Chains

                                                        C          H          A         I         N         S

I could taste the salt and copper upon my bottom lip. It was a curiously alive flavor that I tested a few more times rolling my tongue over the puncture mark where my teeth ventured too far into the earth of my soft skin. I was absorbed in my thoughts and I had never heard a more terrible anxiety ridden noise than that of Sasuke’s heavy trodden footsteps ascending the stairway.

The roll of mountain air came in delicious chilly inviting waves upon the wind traveling Southward from the snow peaked mountainside. It was truly a picture I would never tire from. There was no underlying bustle of city life or pressure to piece back together a broken child. I could never get used to the surgical and sterile smell of a hospital. I still hated it even if it was being cloaked in the scent of sullen mothers perfumes as they visited their kids and sweet sticky candy hovering in the air.

I wouldn’t allow myself to face Sasuke in this manor. I would not be disheveled and lying flat on my back with the nights guilt still lingering on the top layer of my skin. I had time. I sprang from the bed flying to the bathroom where I dipped a washcloth into a full basin as icy as the air outside. I didn’t mind. I scrubbed the sin away letting the bowl drink in all the salt and dirt it wanted. The dirtier the surface the cleaner I felt. Baptizing myself but knowing what I had done would be unforgivable in Sasuke’s eyes. And it hit me like a sledgehammer.

His opinion of me was the only one I truly valued. Yes I had lingering affections for Itachi, but I believe it was because he too was like a piece of Sasuke. And Sasuke was something I treasured.

Slowly I lift to face myself in the mirror. I never cared for my appearance before. I never saw this kind of glow upon my skin. I  read about it in many romance novels but thought it more fictitious than fact. I was a woman of science. Ones skin glowed only when pregnant or eating super foods where the vitamin enriched fruit renewed and rejuvenated ones skin. But this was different. There was a flush to my cheeks, my eyes seemed to gleam, even the rose tint of my hair blossomed to that of a hue brighter than before.

All at once I understood now. Finally in every fiber of my being I knew. I laid my palm over my breast to where my beating heart thundered against my rib cage. Somehow the old dust that settled in my bones was rattled and shaken up and I saw things with clarity. I felt like I had been just that. A snow globe rotting away on a shelf gathering dust. But then Sasuke came along and polished my glass, admired my simplicity (or so in my mind), and made me feel alive. Actually alive.

Things were different now. I closed my eyes for a brief moment and imagined what it would be like to celebrate holidays with this new revelation. They would seem brighter, have more meaning, and I wanted to make precious memories with him. I wanted to go to festivals, events, and I wanted to proudly tote him upon my arm. I couldn’t imagine my life without him. My heart condensed squeezing tightly like a fist and a sickly warm feeling roiled through my stomach.

My eyes glittered with tears and I knew this sickly feeling was called loss. I couldn’t bear to lose him. Especially not after the mistake I’ve made. Oh how to grovel. Should I just start my punishment now by claiming I would drag myself on my belly across the jagged rocks of the mountain slopes? Maybe if I spent an entire winter in the wilderness that would gain some small measure of favor.

I hadn’t heard him come in, he didn’t look me in the eyes even when his body slumped against the doorframe of the bathroom. Guilt. Stupid Sakura. Stupid damned woman.

“Come outside with me.” His steely tone sent vibrations throughout my bones. Hold onto it because its probably the last happy chill I’ll get before the conversation tore me asunder.

We walked along a dusty trail until the house was nothing more than a dot in the distance. The scent of pine wrapped around me and the underlying humming of bird chitter and stream chatter was the only thing around us. The chortle of the horses could no longer be heard in the echo from the bowl shaped valley.

Sasuke leaned his tailbone against a large boulder while I was too restless to camp myself anywhere. I tested the mossy underbelly of the forest floor then drew a line with the front of my boot against the soot of the creek bed. The shale and slate jaggedly making up the bones of the bendy steady stream.

He was quiet for awhile and I was absorbed in this menial task of drawing lines and watching the water eat my shapes correcting the sand to smoothness over and over again until finally he broke the silence.

“I’ve been thinking.” Not a good line. This was evident from every novel, movie, and real life situation. It was usually followed by the line of: Its not you, its me. God my heart was like a stone in my throat. But I stayed silent and I listened. Each lash of his tongue was a strike at me rightfully deserving.

He still refused to look at me. I doubt it was because he was a coward and couldn’t face me, but rather was afraid if he gazed at me even once the picture of his brother naked and myself would mingle together. I didn’t blame him. Perhaps I could drown myself in this shallow stream.

“I’ve got a plane ticket, and by tomorrow night you’ll be back home. Back to your normal life.” My head snapped up to him. It felt like all my weight sank down to my toes. This wasn’t something I expected. This was a punishment far worse than I imagined. He was cutting me entirely loose. I’d rather he shoved my face into this brook right now than be exiled away from his side.

Now his eyes blazed a trail up to meet mine. He took his time getting there as if imprinting the last image of my body into memory. Somewhere between the cage of trees I swore I heard the sound of ice cracking and tumbling from the top of a peak. Thinking back on it now, that may have just been my heart. Or rather, my spirit.

If this was his judgement I would not dispute or try and go against this verdict. But there was a small sliver of hope that still pulsed within me that maybe he would change his mind.

Inside I was a tangle of emotions. I was heartbroken, devastated, and screaming ready to cry and rage like a toddler stamping her little feet wailing how unfair this was. But the woman was a mere shell on display at the present moment and nothing more than a mute broken thing awaiting more instruction as to what else would be added to my death sentence.

All the saliva I was gulping back stuck above the warm lump in my throat. I could only tell myself over and over not to cry. I would take my judgement with dignity. Even if it was nothing but the size of a hangnail.

“Itachi has agreed to drive you to the airport. You will be fully compensated. And our issues will no longer trouble you any longer.”

And with that the final onslaught of his lashing left me bloody and beaten. Each word a sharp searing poker twisting in the tender parts of my body. My eye sockets, my tongue, my stomach, and most damaged was my heart. I nodded to show I accepted and understood.

—-...—-

I packed the night before on autopilot. Ever since then I couldn’t eat or sleep and I couldn’t even focus my eyes for two seconds on anything. They seemed to glaze over and float to no particular focal point. Even in the car, in awkward silence I let my slumped head beat against the glass without concern. I couldn’t tell you when we left the bumpy trail from the ranch and got to glassy smooth road. I didn’t even know how I got into the car. Itachi said nothing.

When I was at the airport He only got out in order to retrieve my baggage which was no more than a small luggage case from the trunk. I mechanically extended my hand, my fingers working by themselves as they latched around the handle. My other hand taking the papers presented to me by the elder male. My passport papers and my ticket back to my normal life.

Sensing there was nothing to rectify the silence, Itachi said nothing but watched as I floated through the doors and disappeared to the tarmac. Guess I was over my fear of flying as well. I thought for a second the jostling was from the cab of the car still grinding over uneven road. I placidly watched the clouds roll over the window.

Sasuke didn’t say goodbye. I hadn’t seen him since I too engraved what I knew would be the last time I would see Sasuke into memory. He trudged ahead of me back to the house leading me over uneven terrain. I never took my eyes off his broad backside. My fingers ached to rake over the hard shelving of his bones. The outline from his shirt was painfully in front of me like a mirage I would never again reach.

He had disappeared after that into the birch barn and never came out. I heard the door that night open and close telling me he was retiring for the night and the last grain of hope that he would come through the door beat faintly like a simmering coal in beat with my heart. When he walked past all embers in me died. Flushed out like a hurricane to a campfire.

—-. . . —-

O  n  e  |  W  e  e k  |  L  a  t  e  r

Hinata was the first to see me when I was "officially" back home. I had acclimated like a clumsy duck landing to water. Everything seemed foreign to me. Even my wardrobe and textbooks on the shelving. The first thing I did was clean. I cleaned for a good three days. I scrubbed all the accumulated dust until my knuckles were raw. Then I had to speak with the police. I knew what to say, memorized everything Sasuke told me to speak, and like a snap of the long arms fingers, I was off the hook. Absolved of all suspicion. Which I was. Itachi made sure of that when he took responsibility for killing Danzo.

Here, in the real world where slumlords and terrible things were gleaned over and decorated with positive world news, I could not find a single thing about the mob boss. There was an airplane crash in a foreign country, a car accident three blocks from me. Standard stuff. If it bleeds it leads. Unless it pertained to the underbelly of black market trade. I didn’t dare search results for Danzo or anything pertaining to Sasuke’s line of work. I was ignorant about these things. I thought the FBI would bust down my door as soon as I hit enter in the search bar. I even rubbed a piece of blacked out tape over the camera on my laptop. I bought a new phone with a private number only those closest to me would know.

I deleted my social media outlets. I kept my website however, so at least my successful career would remain intact. I contacted the board and informed them I would be able to get back to work immediately. The story was plausible enough. I had seen something I wasn’t supposed to and therefore was placed in witness protection until the assailant was apprehended. I got odd looks after that from peers and practitioners.

I didn’t mind. I knew I couldn’t come from this sort of thing unscathed. Besides that it blessedly kept potential bachelors that were interested in taking me out at bay.

I hadn’t thought or spoke His name in two weeks since coming home. As I said Hinata had come to see me and fawned and doted over my return. She asked me every question under the sun about my time away which I summed up in one sentence. I told her it was utterly over and with that same sympathetic face the others gave me at work, she understood. I was a waterlogged creature to be pitied. Something that wouldn’t quite have that same shine to it as before.

I didn’t care. I worked my ass off and was glad for the distraction. I nearly worked myself to death, and when my body finally yielded my ministrations by shutting me down with a cold for a week I did my damndest not to have my thoughts turn back to the mountains. How much could I endure? Being alone in bed drowning in a flood of tissue with an impaired fever mind that was always trying to pull me back to those fucking mountains.

My brain and my heart were at war during my incoherent state. My brain was always trying to kill and crush my heart. I don’t know how much longer I could withstand the squeezing feeling behind my breast. I do know from studying and doing my dissertation paper on it, that one really could die from heartbreak. I’d rather it give out then keep spasming like this.

I drowned the fog with wine and tea. I filled my membrane with junk TV and daily calls to and from Hinata. She had come over to cojile and nurse me back to health.

After a month home, life before was beginning to get fuzzy and forgotten. Hinata came over one evening when I actually felt vitalized for the first time in thirty days. I played the part of host drowning the empty glasses until their bellies were full of strawberry wine. I propped myself upon my settee while Hinata poised and proper sat erect, leg over her other leg upon my sofa taking polite sips. I was grateful not to drink alone.

“How are you holding up?”

“As well as could be expected.” I muttered over the lip of my cup.

I had asked her how things faired her first visit and she, as usual, acclimatized quickly back to her old life. As if the kidnapping was nothing more than a blip in her life. As it should be. I smiled as he took another gulp of the sweet nectar before setting the stem down on the end table to her right. She produced a pamphlet from the silk lining of her cashmere jacket. There was a soft blush against her porcelain cheeks.

“I was hoping you would come to fathers gallery tonight. Its for charity. A benefit for benefactors pay for pieces of locally made artwork. Some of the proceeds naturally will go to your funding.”

I forgot the business venture to open a children’s hospital. One that would be my own. And Hinata, naturally would help me lead it as a director. I smiled and looked it over.

“Is it safe for him to be out in the open?” Her father, I mean.

“Oh yes. We have extra security measures in place.” She added gesturing at the back of the paper. I scanned the glossy words nodding in understanding. The explanation of the exposition fluffed the extravagance the benefit of the gallery would have, but underlying in those perfumed words was the implication that there would be heavy guard to enforce the invitation only rule.

“All white party?”

“A tradition with gallery pieces I suppose.” She too looked a little embarrassed. White parties in New York City were as rare as apples and oranges in the surplus stores. Though I should be grateful it wasn’t a costume party.

“I asked father if instead we could do a masquerade ball.” Another thing that I’d rather not participate in. But if it would please my friend to see me out back in polite society acting normal then I had no choice but to accept.

The emails had been sent out informing guests about the slight change in theme and in an underline red score was the reminder to bring your brochure as proof of purchase into the gallery. Those without would absolutely not be permitted to enter. My stomach was in knots rereading the email from the Hyuga company. Question was...what the hell was I supposed to wear?