The Aftermath is Never Pretty
The world hadn’t changed by the time she woke up, and Sakura was infinitely grateful for that. There was still a cupboard surrounding her, thick wood blocking out the outside world as best it could, hiding her from any possible threats. There was still a green blanket over her, and when Sakura breathed in she could smell the scent which reminded her of the outdoors lingering upon it. She hadn’t smelt that in a long time so she couldn’t be entirely sure of the scent – but it didn’t smell of blood and rust and her prison, so Sakura was as happy as she could be.
Part of her dreaded she was somehow still dreaming – that she would wake up to that smiling face and that voice which purred out her name as knives and other implements came out to play. Her toes clenched, and she remembered the crunch of bone, the pain, and the tugging as her toes were crushed between pliers and pried from her foot one by one. They were still there and whole. Sakura shivered at the memory, hands grasping at her toes then as she sucked in a shaky breath. ‘This is all in the name of science,’ the all too familiar voice purred, and Sakura felt herself shake. The skin wasn’t pink and sensitive, she assured herself, grounding her thoughts within the facts presented before her. They hadn’t only recently regrown. They hadn’t been pried off once more, as they had so many times before. She supposed the nightmare she had just woken up from was something to blame those vivid thoughts and memories on. Nothing good ever happened once she woke from a nightmare, no matter if she was suddenly free from that place of hell and torment. That fact still stood.
A soft whimper escaped her, even as she buried her head in her knees and prayed this was no dream which she would suddenly wake up from. Even if it wasn’t death and the Pure Lands, it wasn’t her prison, which meant it was better. She had escaped from their clutches, and she was free. That had to be all which mattered.
‘You’ll never be free of us, Sa-ku-ra,’ the voice purred, and she sat up suddenly, skin feeling as though there were ants crawling all over it, and she hurried out of her wardrobe then, crouching down as she surveyed the room around her with cautious eyes. There were no threats. Her breathing was the only sound she could hear amidst the eerie stillness which was broken as the sound of a bird’s trill pierced the air. It came from outside, beyond where the light seeped in through the light curtains, and she held her breath for a moment as she listened and watched that light. The same light she had seen yesterday, but hadn’t paid much attention to in her frantic panic.
She hadn’t seen light in so long. It almost looked foreign and far too bright to her tired eyes as she stared at that window, heart beating in her chest rapidly as she edged towards the light. Part of her wondered if it would burn her, or if she wouldn’t feel the heat because it was nothing but an illusion. But she did feel the warmth on her skin, squinting at the brightness of the world outside, breath catching in her throat at the sight of the sea on the horizon.
Waves sparkled in the light, and Sakura could almost taste the salt on the imaginary breeze as she stared at the roiling waves of the sea. Her hand landed against the glass, part of her longing to run down to the sea, but she didn’t know what sort of danger lurked outside. She flinched back then, staring at the faint brown-haired reflection she could see in that glass, turning away from the window then, stomach twisting at the sight of the face which wasn’t hers.
There was no illusion set upon her right then and there. Sakura wasn’t entirely certain if she remembered how to do such a thing. It had been a long while since she had used one, confident in her own strength and skills as she once had been. There had been no need to hide or infiltrate anywhere or anything. Her arms wrapped around herself, and she glared at her brown locks then. Body snatcher, something whispered in the depths of her mind, and so she decided the first order of business was tying her hair back. There was only one problem – she knew where nothing in that house was, and she had the terrible feeling, as she opened draw after empty draw of the dresser, that any sort of hair ties or other beautifying equipment would be in that room she had first awoken in.
That red room – the same room which probably belonged to the body she was in. The same room which would belong to her technically, given how she was there and seemingly breathing in that body. Her hands shook, growing steadily more shaky as the search of another room yielded nothing else, and silently she weighed up her discomfort. There was no knife available to cut her hair, and even if there was, bits would only end up in her vision, too short to be out of the way, and she didn’t particularly want to shave her hair off. It would be terribly itchy growing back and Sakura didn’t think she was comfortable being bald or near enough. She was still female at heart, and she was rather attached to having hair. A lot of the people in the paintings had long hair too – and Sakura supposed that was another mark for keeping her hair there long, yet tied back and out of the way. She wanted to blend in should she meet anyone else.
So the momentary terror and discomfort didn’t outweigh the need for a hair tie of some description, which was how she found herself standing before the door to that room, sucking in deep breaths as she tried to gather any vestiges of courage she had. Shaking fingers curled around the door handle, and Sakura opened the door, stomach twisting as she spied that red colour. She didn’t like red anymore. Never again, not after all the blood and pain. That colouring brought up too many painful memories, and Sakura slammed the door shut, falling to her knees then, burying her face in her hands and whimpering. Pathetic, part of her which sounded eerily like her tormentor whispered amidst the roiling terror in her mind. Defeated by a room, another part whispered, stressing the final word. Sakura stared at her feet, ashamed and miserable at the revelation. Look at what’s become of the great and mighty Haruno Sakura… Her hands curled into fists, nails cutting into skin, drawing blood and another whimper of pain as the red sticky liquid leaked down her arm, skin sealing shut only moments later, taking away the slight pain soon after – the blood on her skin and nails the only evidence of what had happened.
“It is only a room,” she whispered. Her voice sounded strange in ways she couldn’t quite understand. Sakura didn’t think it mattered much in that instant, what with the more pressing issue of trying to get those wrong brown locks out of sight and out of mind. She would be able to deal with everything else once she had managed to get that done. “It is only a room,” she decided then, rising slowly to her feet, ignoring the mocking whispers on the eaves of her mind as her legs trembled somewhat. “And it is not that room,” she reminded, steeling her nerves as she put her hand on that door handle once more. “And I do not need to stay in it…” she trailed off, the spoken words reassuring her once more, jerking the door open, setting eyes on the dresser surrounded by that horrible red colour which made her stomach churn and painful memories claw up from the depths of her mind she had tried to sink them to. She moved quickly, in spite of her shaking hands, pulling open what she thought to be the likeliest of drawers, relief seeping through her as she spied the leather thong. Her fingers closed around it, and, prize in hand, she fled from the room, slamming the door shut behind her, breathing heavy as the heavy wooden door closed with a click.
There was no more red, only the wooden panelling which decorated the corridor in all its glossed glory. It reminded her somewhat of the wardrobe she had slept in, and the wardrobe was a designated safe spot in that large house. Sakura wondered whether she ought to call it a mansion, what with how large it was seeming to be. She had yet to explore all the rooms, determine its safety and defensibility in case of an attack, or even lay some basic traps. Not that she had any material with which to lay traps with. But she hoped to find something. And ideally never have to go in that red room ever again. She didn’t like the red, no matter how she had once worn that colour. ‘And you wore it so very well,’ her tormenter purred in her ear, and Sakura ran then, retracing her steps from earlier, leather thong in hand and ready for use as she made her way back to her designated safe spot.
The walls of that room were a forest green, vibrant and not red which made them soothing to her eyes, and she snuggled back up inside the comforting wooden walls, only fiddling about with her hair then. Her hands moved, nimble fingers twisting that strange hair of hers into a simple braid. One of the few she could just about remember still after everything. Her hands shook at the memories, but the tie was already in her hair, securing those unfamiliar brown locks as out of sight of her immediate vision as they could be. She curled up in her blankets then, letting herself snuggle in the warmth of the odd nest bed she had made in that safe wardrobe. She liked being warm. She had been cold for too long. Exposed for too long. Sakura shuddered at the memory, grateful she was clothed – even if it was a long, flowy, impractical dress she was wearing. She resolved to change clothes at the earliest opportunity, or at the very least wash them, what with how they were somewhat splattered with dried vomit.
Her nose wrinkled, a reminder that scent would give her away ringing in her brain then, and she decided to scout the rest of her new apparent accommodations. She wasn’t probably as hungry as she should have been, per say, but she could feel the beginnings of that gnawing hunger just about scraping in her stomach. The kitchen, food, and the bathroom. Those were what she needed to find. Perhaps the boiler, or the boiler room too, given how she would want hot water for her bath. After that would come everything else. Like traps and defences and then she would begin figuring things out. Sakura nodded to herself, wondering how long she had been snuggled in those warm, comforting blankets. Probably too long. She bit her lip, reluctantly sliding out from the warmth and the blanketing sensation of safety she felt from that wardrobe and that room she had already spent a night in.
She slipped from the safe room then, bare feet padding against the mostly wooden floor. The first floor was mainly wood, or so she was discovering as she explored. There were six bedrooms, including the red room, and three bathrooms with plumbing which thankfully worked. A decent level of technology and plumbing and general hygiene or so it seemed. The water was cold, even from the hot tap, meaning there was likely a boiler room somewhere, but it evidently wasn’t automated or electronic. Sakura supposed in some ways that made things simpler – she couldn’t really remember how to operate a normal one – but a wood fire burner type or whatever it was technically called… That, she would be able to use, even if it meant she would have to remember to set a fire every time she wanted a hot bath.
The lights in that place, aside from the ones in the bedroom, were always seemingly on, and they grew brighter as evening came – or so she was discovering, having not paid much attention the evening before. She couldn’t really remember the evening prior all that well. She made her way downstairs, hairs on end as she walked through the entrance hall – the danger zone where the door which led to the outside was. She all but sprinted further into the house, nervousness rising at the eerie silence which engulfed her. Sakura supposed she would have to get used to that much, what with her seeming to be the only one living there for the time being. She didn’t think she wanted that to change – if there were indeed others out there. Sakura was presuming that much, what with all the portraits which had been in the house, depicting other people whom she didn’t recognise in the slightest.
She still didn’t understand how or why she was there. The only thing which mattered was ensuring she was safe and secure. Then, and only then could she worry about how far away she had managed to get from her tormentors. Though she was fairly sure she was pretty far away, what with how she vaguely remembered dying. Sakura shook her head, padding across the tile which seemed to be the predominant flooring type on the ground floor. And likely the floor beneath it, if the stairs leading downwards were anything indicative. She didn’t think the kitchens would be down there, so she ignored them for the time being, making a mental note of where they were in that house. The kitchens, or so she discovered, were more towards the back of the house, with a view out into the garden on the other end of her new residence. Ground seemed to give way to the sea much too suddenly, and Sakura could only presume there was some kind of cliff edge there, fenced off as it seemingly was.
Food was thankfully in stock in the kitchen painted with creams, the tiles around the kitchen area made black for a nice contrast, and Sakura grabbed a hold of some dried meats, bread, and some cheese by the looks of it, seating herself on one of the granite countertops and making short work of the meal she had grabbed, eyes darting around all the while as she ate. Part of her was terrified of anyone suddenly appearing, especially when she was unarmed and hadn’t used her chakra in years. Well aside from the whole attempted suicide in which she had thought she had managed to damage her chakra system beyond repair. But her Yin Seal still worked, she was alive, and she didn’t understand anything anymore, not even her own body. But Sakura didn’t want to think on that. Water from the taps was cool, clean, and fresh, washing down her meal, and Sakura got straight back to business with that, hunger sated and dealt with meaning it was time for the next item on her self-made agenda.
She needed to find whatever heated water. There was a hot tap, meaning there had to be a way of heating up water, and Sakura was going to find it, she knew. She didn’t want to bathe in cold water. She didn’t want a bucket of cold water to occasionally be thrown over her. The water had to be hot, and so Sakura made her way through all the rooms on that particular floor, disappointment filling her when all she found were parlour rooms, dining rooms, offices, and other spaces for what she assumed to be general living. The house was far larger than she had originally thought. Her stomach stirred at that, nausea gripping at her for some reason. Because she knew nothing about the body she was inhabiting. The body which was apparently hers now. The body which might protect her from her tormentors, different as it was from her last. The body which didn’t feel like her own thanks to that very same reason.
“Downstairs,” she muttered, the word cutting off that train of thoughts before it could roll into another station in her mind. Survival was more important than the matter of that body. Sakura thought she needed warm water for survival. She hardly wanted to catch anything or impair herself with illness from constantly bathing in cold water. She didn’t know the local area, nor the types of illness which would be commonplace there, or if she had immunity to some of them already thanks to that body.
The stairs which led downstairs, to a set of corridors which were still above ground – the house seemingly built on different terrain levels. The lights in that place seemed to be of a warmer glow than the colder lighting of the main part of the house there, a few windows outside letting in the glow from the sun low on the horizon. There were no shadows, lights carefully positioned to ensure there were no blind spots in that corridor which made her wonder if the place belonged to shinobi. Though that didn’t mean she wasn’t careful when opening the doors, always so very careful of where enemies could lurk or traps could be laid.
She found the correct room on her first try in that odd section of the house – the room closest to the stairs on the right hand side, opposite to the side the windows were all situated on. It was a large room, with a fair number of pipes, but the lights were still very bright and there were still no enemies in sight. She was starting to get fully accustomed to the idea that she was blissfully alone in that place, and she was so very grateful for that fact. She didn’t know what she would’ve done, had she suddenly met anyone who she was supposed to know, or one of the people whose portraits had been painted and hung throughout that house.
Shaking her head, Sakura put that horrible imaginary situation to one side and gathered the wood logs and other things she knew she would need, sweeping away the ash which had been left there from the last use of that place into the metal bucket placed by the side of where she presumed the wood was meant to go. The dead ash and the way there were no flammable materials situated there was a bit of a giveaway. Matches had kindly been left there, and there were a few boxes of them, meaning she would have many attempts to get a fire going before she had to worry about how to get more. Something she was thankful for. She didn’t want to go near the front door for a while yet.
Sakura wasn’t sure if she would ever want to venture there or beyond for a long while.