[Red Sands: In Search of the Scarlet Dawn]

There was an oddly still air around the house which Sakura couldn’t help but notice as she moved about between classes and exercise. It felt like the calm before the storm, a moment of quiet before the hubbub eventually returned. Her uncle was coming, she reminded herself, even as she paced back and forwards, wishing she could get rid of the nervousness swimming about in her gut. She swallowed thickly, trying to picture Sasori’s face, and wondering if she was remembering it properly. Wondering if she was ready for another Sasuke-not-her-Sasuke situation. Only this time it would involve her enemy who had mystifyingly ended up becoming her family in her… next life. She swallowed thickly at the thought, shoulders sinking at the reminder that her memories of her death, of dying, and of a life she could never return to would forever be there. She just somehow needed to learn to cope with that much, and hopefully – eventually – move on.

They were such easy words to say and think, yet it was an infinitely harder process to put into practice. More so when her life liked to give her those familiar-strangers. One of them was coming to visit, the time of his arrival ticking closer with every single second which passed.

“Um, Lady Sakura?” the timid voice of her current teacher pierced through the haze, and Sakura tried to smile as best she could – an effort which went awry, if the look of terror on Countess Yuki’s face was anything to go off of.

“My apologies,” she said. “My mind was miles away. If you wouldn’t mind repeating what you just said?” Sakura tilted her head, sighing inwardly as ever so hesitantly, the older woman did as she’d been asked. Idly, she wondered if anyone would ever overcome the fear they seemed to have for her, and Sakura could only wonder exactly what the Sakura of before had done to merit such a reaction. She wondered if it was selfish of her to hate the girl she had apparently been before for that much, and the many messes there were to clear up. She wondered just how long it would take to clear those up – or if people there would be content to bask in whatever image of her they had build up prior, and foist that onto her forevermore.

She hoped that wouldn’t be the case, frustration boiling up inside her at the very thought of that happening. “Look at me now, Naruto,” she whispered, pondering then on if her situation resembled her once-friend’s in some way, shape, or form. With everyone treading carefully around her, likely speaking badly of her behind her back. Sakura closed her eyes, sighing softly as her lesson came to an end, the mock test paper she received for homework making her hum under her breath and wonder if she had retained anything from that lesson. Her thoughts were a mess, and she could only be grateful that her sword training was next. There was nothing better to prevent nightmares than by working herself hard enough that she could only collapse into bed and sleep dreamlessly. It was either that or begging Ichiro to work his magic on her – and it was getting to the point where he was trying to earnestly talk with her about her problems.

She didn’t particularly want to talk earnestly about what plagued her, about how pathetically she had died, about how she should have been able to avoid it, and so that meant working herself to the bone it was.

“Sister!” Ren greeted, charging through the door her tutor had left through only a matter of minutes before. “It’s sword practice time!” he declared, full of enthusiasm and cheer as he always was. Idly, she wondered if that was how she used to come across to her own friends. She pondered then on why that seemed so exhausting to her thoughts right then and there.

“I know,” she answered, allowing her brother to help her to her feet, a blanket of exhaustion seeming to settle over her as she clambered over to the door.

“Are you—?”

“I’m fine,” she said flatly, cutting him off before he could ask the question that everyone always seemed to whenever they saw her. She hated their ever so blatant concern, even merited though it might be, and even though she would probably show the same concern if one of her brothers looked as she did right then and there. She was a filthy hypocrite like that.

Ren looked at her for an instant, green eyes sharp and cutting, and Sakura only sighed. “If you insist,” he said, shoulders seeming to sink, eyes dimming in their blatant enthusiasm ever so slightly. Sakura wondered why that sight made part of her feel cowed – ashamed as if she had told someone a lie she shouldn’t have. He was earnest, she had long since learnt, and ever so perceptive. A combination which only promised her more frustration and headaches in the coming future.

She wondered then what her uncle would be like in that world. Would he be kind? Perpetually angry? Murderous with an aura which whispered at her not to cross him? Sakura could only wonder, the days until his arrival seeming to slip through the hourglass like sand. He would be there soon, and Sakura mentally tried to steel herself for the approaching storm.

“I can do this,” she whispered to herself, reminding herself that she needed to get through an hour or so of sword practice before she could soak in the bath for a short while and promptly go to bed. Dreams were hard-pressed to find – at least the good ones which didn’t have her waking up in a cold sweat were.

“That you can,” Ren declared, reminding her of the fact she had company. “You haven’t even missed a single day of training just yet,” he said, evidently not aware of the rabbit hole her thoughts had jumped down. “Even I wasn’t as good as you – Ichiro had to drag me by my ankles a couple of times to get me to come, so you’re certainly on the right track,” he said, smiling ever so sunnily – a smile Sakura felt she might have lost in that moment, even as tiredness seemed to eat away at her very being itself.

“Do you think you’ll be able to teach me some more on magic tomorrow?” she asked, shifting the topic of conversation before she really realised it. “I mean, will you have time?” she added, wanting some way to shift the fog of tiredness and unenthusiasm which seemed to have crept up on her. Magic was more exciting than most things, a new, shiny thing to play with. If that didn’t get her brain going, she wasn’t entirely sure what would.

“For you, certainly,” her brother answered, pushing open the door to their little training courtyard and beckoning her through. “Now, though, our beloved wooden swords await.” He skipped the last of the distance, and Sakura could only stare at him, something like longing bubbling up in her gut – for the times when she hadn’t had to worry about feeling like an imposter or otherwise losing everything.

Rain had just began to fall when their training finished up for the day, the skies beginning to turn a familiar dusky colour as the sun edged closer and closer to finishing its descent. The moon was already up, pale and distant as its light was. Dinner was still to be had, she was reminded as the first embers of hunger came crackling to life in her gut. She needed a bath as well, what with the fact she had one tutor coming to call the next morning. She hardly wanted to be stinking the room out. Sakura could only envision the rumours which would fly around at the idea of the duke’s daughter having far more than a hair out of place.

They would probably blame it on her beloved Sasuke treating her ‘as she had deserved to be treated’. They would want her to be miserable, wouldn’t they? She could picture them all then – blurry faces, malicious grins, eyes watching and waiting for her to make a mistake. Part of her shuddered in fear and nervousness at the thought that she would have to go back to that place – to those judging stares even if she wasn’t quite the same person who had once stood in those halls. Truthfully, she didn’t really want to go back there. She would rather stay within the walls of the Haruno Duchy where it was safe and where she was coming to know. It wasn’t safe there in that academy she had come from, and a part of her felt that viscerally. She could only wonder why – why a bunch of schoolchildren seemed to terrify her so.

An image came to the forefront of her mind – a door carved with an unfamiliar sigil. A club room, her brain told her distantly, and Sakura only shook her head and pushed that thought aside.

“Sister,” Ichiro spoke, hand on her shoulder, guiding her forwards from where she had stopped all of a sudden. “There is dinner to be had,” he informed her, and she nodded at that. “Come along,” he beckoned, not leaving her any other option than to follow him along. “It’s your favourite—or, well, what used to be your favourite. We need to use up the shrimp before Uncle Sasori comes along – he’s allergic, you see.”

Sakura barely refrained from choking on her spit at the casual name drop, brain still trying to process the idea of Sasori – any version of him – being distinctly friend-shaped. Or, perhaps more accurately, family-shaped that time around. “Huh,” she mumbled, storing that little factoid away in the recesses of her brain. “He’s allergic to shrimp…”

Ichiro glanced at her questioningly, and she almost tried to reassure him that she wasn’t out to poison their uncle. Her uncle. Whenever he decided to arrive – that was. There was an unsettling thought to that. The fact that she didn’t know precisely when the look-alike of the man who had been her first big kill, to say the least. The act which once had her thinking she’d end up in the bingo book with a high bounty and either kill or flee on sight marked next to her name.

“I’m not planning anything untoward, stop looking at me like that,” she grumbled, treading down the familiar corridor which led to the dining room. Her hand traced the wall, part of her musing on how she ought to explore all of that place and figure out exactly what was where. A tiny part of her couldn’t be bothered, content to let things happen as they happened. Another bit of her wanted to be bothered. Yet being bothered was quite exhausting for her those days. Sakura wasn’t really sure what to make of that fact.

“Of course, sister,” Ichiro acknowledged ever so calmly. “I wouldn’t dare to think otherwise.”

One eyebrow rose, disbelief scrawled across her face. “That look on your face begged the contrary,” she said flatly, expelling a loud sigh when her brother only looked back at her ever so piercingly.

“I worry for you,” he said, closing his eyes and leaving it at that as they neared their destination. He pushed the doors to the dining room open and took a seat, even as their trusty serving staff started bringing out the dinner the chef had kindly made for them. “Shrimp tempura,” Ichiro murmured, smiling as their dinner was laid out in front of them. “I hope you’ll like it…” he trailed off, and Sakura heard the as much as you used to, unsaid though it went.

She smiled as best she could, but truthfully, she didn’t feel as though she were fooling any of the four other family members who sat around the table with her. “I’m sure I will,” she said, digging in, thinking then about the long soak in the tub which awaited her instead of the eyes which watched her curiously. She rather felt like she was inhaling her food as opposed to eating it, eager to get out of the room and sink into the bath and then collapse on her bed and sleep as her aching limbs wished to.

“Is it good?” Itsuki asked, lip curled in that familiar way as he watched her eat like something he probably classed as a savage. “It certainly looks… as if you’re enjoying your meal. Though, Ichiro, brother, when will our darling sister learn table manners again?”

“Smooth,” she muttered, rolling her eyes at her third brother. “Real smooth. Totally not taking a jab at me for anything.” She stared at him, scowl deepening as he only stared back. Sakura grinned, feeling a bit of batter stuck between her front teeth. Itsuki grimaced, and mentally, she patted herself on the back for that much. Being petty was oddly relieving in many odd ways, and one of her brothers was easier to bother – generally by simply existing.

“Stop it, both of you,” Ichiro grumbled, and then it was his turn to roll his eyes at them, it seemed.

Ren only smiled at them all as he ate, humming quietly to himself, seemingly eternally full of good cheer compared to the rest of them. “I think today went well,” he declared, steering the conversation away from their bickering.

“You only say that because you keep winning,” Itsuki said between mouthfuls. “If you lost a bout for once, then I doubt you would look as cheery.”

“On the contrary, dear brother, I look forwards to the day when you finally, eventually manage to defeat me,” he replied, looking as blasé as ever about the prospect of their brother winning a fight. “No matter how far in the future that might be.”

Sakura snickered at that, seeing the twitch of his brow – ever an indicator of his irritation.

“You all did well today,” their father spoke, cutting all of them off before anybody could speak – and inevitably start bickering with one or the other. “You made me proud,” he said, and Sakura felt the faintest bit of warmth come to her cheeks at that. At the praise. “Though you each have varying hurdles to overcome – it does not mean you are not doing exceptionally well for both your age, and your skill level as well,” he continued, blue eyes flickering over to her green ones at that last bit. “I’ve received word from your uncle that he is due tomorrow – evening at the latest, though knowing Sasori, he’ll be here in the early hours of the morning.”

“Oh goodie,” she muttered at that, shoving another forkful of rice into her mouth, ignoring the nervous twist there was to her stomach.

“I will inform him of your amnesia,” he said matter-of-factly. “He’s a perceptive man, and that much can’t be hidden. I won’t inform him of Negative Mana Reflux, not if you don’t want me to – but there’s always the chance he might figure it out himself.”

“You can tell him,” she grumbled, pushing the remnants of her food around on her plate. “Sasori… he’s, well, family, isn’t he?” she spoke, feeling awfully hesitant. He wasn’t Sasori of the Red Sands there, she reminded herself, thoughts pausing. Well, technically he was called Sasori of the Red Sands there, but he was supposed to be her uncle. She tapped her finger against the table, a nervous habit she had picked up; constantly keeping a part of herself moving whilst her mind raced on ahead.

“Uncles are generally considered part of the family, yes,” Itsuki answered, a sardonic smile curving at his lips.

“Itsuki,” Ichiro called warningly, eyes narrowing on their blonde brother.

“It’s fine,” she said, setting her cutlery down on her plate. “Might I be excused, father?” She tilted her head. “The bath is calling my name.”

“Certainly.” He nodded at that. “See you tomorrow morning – I have cleared your schedule just a bit from after tomorrow, if you would like to… get to know your uncle a bit better.”

Sakura blinked, feeling inordinately nervous all of a sudden at the prospect of getting to know her ‘uncle’. “I see… thank you,” she mumbled, uncertain then of whether or not she was truly all that thankful for not having excuses to avoid Sasori. The doors to the dining room shut behind her with a soft click, and the tension fled from her shoulders as she realised she was out of sight from her family. The same family that had an uncle whose alternate self she had once killed in battle. “It will be fine,” she tried to reassure herself, walking towards her bathroom, a slight shake to her step as she did so. “I’m sure it will be.”

Morning came too soon.

She woke with her heart racing, a cold sweat over all of her body, and the faint memory of eerie chanting and whispering. “Well, this is an auspicious start to the day,” she muttered, speaking to herself as if she could get rid of the lingering remnants of fear that the nightmare she couldn’t remember had left her with.

A knock came at the door, and she unthinkingly called for them to come, forgetting that most of her new family preferred not to see her in her sleepwear.

“You could have told me to wait,” Ren said, folding his arms as he looked at her briefly before going to peer out the window. “You should go and get changed behind your screen. I’d prefer to talk to you when you’re dressed properly.”

“Fine,” she mumbled, grabbing herself a dress from her cupboard – still awaiting Madam Fuji’s return with more trousers and the styles of clothing she had specified. Of which – according to Madam Fuji – were more popular in Suna. The place her mother had been born and raised in, she was reminded. Her parent’s hadn’t both been native to her current lands, a difference between her last world and her current one. “I’m dressed properly now,” she declared, having quickly thrown on that dress before striding out from behind her screen, ready to greet her brother. “Happy?”

“Much,” Ren answered. “Father just received word that your tutor won’t be able to make today's session. There’s a sickness going around, it seems.”

“Is it safe for uncle Sasori to stay then?” she asked, thinking then on epidemics and hygiene then. They definitely had sewer systems and proper waste disposal systems to her knowledge. It wasn’t like they were peeing in a bucket and throwing it out the window – there was plumbing and there was fresh water.

“It’s a minor flu, don’t worry, sister,” he said, quelling her worries as much as they could be quelled. “We would rather you not get sick though, especially what with how you’ve been unwell recently.”

“I see…”

“Breakfast will be in an hour. The staff and father have been busy with preparations for uncle’s arrival, if you’re wondering about the delay.” Ren folded his arms, shrugging then. “I’m not sure what you’ll want to do, given how you seem to have acquired some free time. It’s quite the contrast to that schedule you’ve been following for weeks now.”

“I am capable of self-study, brother darling,” she grumbled, folding her own arms and staring right back at him.

“Do you want me to show you where the library is?” he asked, one pink brow quirking up in question. “I’m quite surprised you haven’t come across it before, what with your new rampant thirst for knowledge, but there are other bookshelves in the rooms you’ve been using for tutoring, and I suppose you haven’t seemed to be all that keen on exploring the house.” He tilted his head, as if wondering why that was the case before he turned and headed towards the door to her room.

“Lead the way,” she said, hot on her brother’s heels at the mention of the library. A place which had been her best friend for a period in her prior life. She swallowed thickly, wondering then if Sasori was already roaming the halls of the Haruno Estate, and whether or not she might bump into him. If he arrived in time for breakfast… her thoughts trailed off, the knowledge that she would see him – whether she liked it or not – at mealtimes making her stomach twist with anxiety.

Ren only chuckled at her apparent enthusiasm for all things bookish, leading her through halls she had yet to traverse – to a corner of the house she had yet to visit. He pulled aside a tapestry, revealing an ornate door carved with a variety of flowers. “If you’re wondering why it’s hidden behind this tapestry, it’s because our library is rather well known amongst other nobles, if only for the large variety it contains, mostly on esoteric magic.”

Her eyes narrowed, flickering over to her brother’s matching ones. “Have we had problems with intruders before, then?” she questioned, raising her own eyebrow then.

“Well deducted,” he answered, pushing the door open and beckoning her inside. “Come on in. You might as well read to your heart’s content until breakfast.”

“Is that what you’re going to do?” She looked at him, the question written all over her face.

“Why, sister darling, you know me so well,” he declared, smirking at her then. “History is the section on our right where the rugs are blue trimmed with silver, geography is green with burgundy trimmings, but I think the section you’ll be most interested in,” he said, pointing to a few rows of shelves further in where the rugs were purple trimmed with gold, “is this one – magic.”

Sakura blinked, looking longingly at the magic section of their library, before spinning around to take in the expanse of the library. It was a rather open-plan room, large glass windows in the walls and skylights in the roof providing most of the daytime illumination to the room made up of stained panelling and dark wood bookshelves. There were three storeys to the library, a myriad of books on each floor, spiral staircases leading up to the balconies which overlooked the main floor, a large square space above her, allowing the sunlight to flood down through the windows. There were sofas positioned close by the windows, armchairs dotted about at odd intervals, yet there was an odd charm to the haphazardness. She could smell all of the books, the musty smell she had been expected nowhere to be found as she gazed at the varying colour of book spines which dotted the bookshelves.

“Personally,” her brother said, pulling her attention away from the towering bookshelves. “I would recommend you read these – they will probably be of the most interest to you.” He held out two books, one bound in a royal purple stained leather, the other wrapped in a forest green print embossed with gold decoration.

“A guide to exercising mana,” she murmured, reading the golden title on the green book. “And the study of mana pathways in the body…” she trailed off, franticly trying to wrack her brain for the sort of information they might contain. “Mana pathways…”

“They’re important – both how strong they are and how wide they are,” her brother said. “What do you suppose would be easier: walking down a narrow forest track littered with branches and brambles, or walking down a paved street in a town?” He raised an eyebrow. “Now replace the person walking with your mana, and the track or road with your body – that’s what your body currently is for your mana: a narrow forest track which is difficult and slower to navigate.” Ren smiled, folding his arms and leaning back against the bookshelf. “I know we have yet to cover the specifics in the little lessons, but if you have any questions, feel free to ask me. I’m a wealth of knowledge when it comes to magic, I’ll have you know.”

Sakura looked at the books he’d given her. “Magic and sword fighting… is there anything you aren’t supposedly good at?” she asked, thinking then on the power behind her navel – an energy no one else in that world seemed to have.

“If there is, I certainly haven’t discovered it,” he replied snootily, and she rolled her eyes and went on a hunt to find the perfect armchair or sofa to relax and read on. “Happy reading, sister!” her brother sung, and Sakura only sighed at his antics.

“It will be,” she murmured, finding a sofa right by the window, perching herself on it and curling up, shifting the skirts of her dress until she was as comfy as could be. “Let’s find out some more about mana pathways then…”

Her uncle hadn’t arrived by breakfast, and Sakura wasn’t sure whether she wanted him to hurry up and arrive and get his introduction to her life over with, or whether she wanted him to be delayed until nightfall and thus tomorrow’s problem. She liked avoiding problems, it seemed, and Sakura didn’t know whether she wanted to do something. “You can’t avoid your problems forever, you know,” a line Ino had fed her many a times rang out in her brain, bringing the inevitable sense of loss she felt back to the forefront of her mind as she sat at the dining room table with her three brothers and her father.

“I hear uncle should be arriving soon,” Sakura spoke, hoping that her father would say that he’d been delayed.

“Yes,” he answered, crushing that wish of hers without a shadow of a doubt. “I’ve heard that he’s entered our territory – he should be with us just after we finish breakfast.”

Sakura smiled at that, hoping it didn’t look too strained as the raging ball of anxiety in her stomach came back to bite with vengeance. “That’s… great. I’m looking forwards to it,” she said, wincing internally at just how unenthusiastic she sounded.

Itsuki raised an eyebrow at her, scepticism written clearly on his face as he stared at her.

Determinedly, she ignored his stare, instead opting to mentally go over the theory she had just learnt about cycling mana and the many mana pathways of the body – all of which were tiny and narrow due to the fact that she hadn’t used magic all that much before. Not consciously, in any case, she mused, thinking of the black wispy tendrils of smoke which still gathered around her hands on occasion.

Start from the heart, she recalled, trying to mentally picture all of her mana gates. The holy gate was the uppermost, she remembered, pushing her mana through that ever so slowly. It was slow to move, sluggish almost, undoubtedly from disuse, like a muscle she hadn’t exercised before. She was going to change that fact though. She was aiming for becoming a magic swordswoman in any case, hopefully after becoming something of a healer – whatever qualifications there were beyond going to the Holy Lands.  If she was able to go to the Holy Lands in the first place. She needed to pass the examinations from her academy and whatever other trials awaited her.

The gentle impact of a hand on her head had her startling from her trance, hold on mana slipping. “No mana cycling at the table, sister,” Ren ordered, and Sakura scowled. “That’s best saved for when there’s peace and quiet.”

“Well, excuse me for wanting to learn while the rest of the rabble finish eating,” she grumbled, sour that her little mana cycling session had been delayed, even as her mana slunk back into her core, some of it lost to the ether in the process. “You made me waste some mana,” she muttered, folding her arms with a harrumph.

“It will recover in time,” Ren said, taking his seat beside her once more. “Though, perhaps, for our next lesson together, we ought to investigate your mana recovery rate – everyone’s is slightly different.”

“Sounds interesting,” she said, perking up at bit at the mention of that.

“Whilst I am glad to see you both getting along,” their father said, smiling at the sight of them. “Might I suggest you shelve the discussion about mana for later, I can hear—”

A crisp, sharp knock sounded at the door. “My lord,” the butler’s voice reverberated through the wood. “Prince Sasori of Suna is here.”

“Show him in, please,” their father said, rising to his feet. “We had best go to greet him—”

The door swung open, and Sakura abruptly regretted sitting with her back to the door, hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end as she heard footsteps; the sound of someone entering the room. She felt infinitely apprehensive and worried, both of which went up by a few notches as a voice she recognised rang out, soft and sibilant.

“He meant that I am right here,” Sasori spoke, “outside the room. Did you honestly think any of your staff would stop me at the entranceway to wait for you?”

“Well, technically, now you’re inside the room,” Itsuki pointed out, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Ever the one for technicalities, I see, you impertinent brat,” Sasori said, and Sakura felt herself stiffen as she caught sight of his red hair as he plonked himself down on the open seat opposite Ichiro – beside father, and far too close to herself. “How fare the rest of my darling family?” he asked, and Sakura only swallowed nervously as those brown eyes fixed on her.

She smiled as best she could. “Hello, uncle,” she greeted.

Sasori looked at her for a few moments, and she felt her smile twitch under the scrutiny. He turned to her father. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked blankly, and Sakura barely resisted the urge to bash her head against the table.

“That,” her father remarked, glancing at the butler and the rest of the staff, “is a conversation best saved for family.”

The butler, someone she hadn’t really interacted with just yet, only inclined his head and seemed to non-verbally encourage the rest of the staff out, until she, her brothers, her father, and her visiting uncle were the only ones left in the room.

“Elaborate.”

Sakura sighed, grabbing the arms of her chair hard enough to make them creak. “Negative Mana Reflux, and the resultant amnesia from that,” she declared, tiring of her father looking between her and Sasori for a few seconds too long. “There, I said it.” Her fingers slackened their death grip, arms coming up folded in front of her chest, as if that could protect her from the piercing gaze of her uncle.

Sasori blinked, taking a few moments to digest that. “Ah,” he said, recovering alarmingly quickly. “So, who do I need to kill?”