Hello! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!
___
"The day had started out innocently enough." He whispered to himself, numb, hands covered in river water that he wished he could torch off. "It had started so... just... here, I'm not sure anymore. I'm just trying to process. Yes. I'll recount it."
___
Hikaru stared blankly at the wall once more, his breath sharp. His chest was heaving, sweat dripping onto his flushed skin.
Something had brushed against him.
It had felt like a hand, ghosting against his cheek. The touch was so... familiar and sickening, leaving the taste of vomit heavy in Hikaru's mouth. He'd rushed to the bathroom right after waking up, sick and dizzy and feeling like he'd gotten thrown into a tree a few too many times.
He pressed into the corner, eyes staring all over him. His entire body kept shaking, and he could physically taste his paranoia. It was hard to tell himself that he was just imagining it when he kept seeing things out of the corner of his eye.
It reminded him too much of his cell. It reminded him way too much of Kiri, of the time trapped in his bonds, cold metal around his wrists and ankles.
His hair brushed against his neck, startling him to the point that he jumped. His breath sped up, glancing down for a moment.
A black shadow darted across the room, and Hikaru quickly looked back up.
Whatever was messing with him needed to leave. Hikaru wasn't sure if it was plainly other things, or an actual shinobi, but it wasn't okay. He'd rather stab himself with a kunai before getting up and leaving, though.
It wasn't like he could move anyway.
His legs had gone completely numb, and his fingers were ice cold. Everything was so cold, his breath showing in the dark of his bedroom. His ears felt frozen, and he couldn't really feel the tip of his nose anymore.
Hikaru blinked, clutching his sword even more.
The ANBU mask fell to the ground with a resounding clatter, and Hikaru jumped up, leaning against the wall. His chakra automatically spread out, hunting for other chakra.
Nothing.
There was nobody, and if there was, they were extremely good at hiding their chakra.
He glanced over at his ANBU mask, blood rushing to his head and filling his eyes with brilliant white spots.
It was okay. He was okay. And there was nothing in his apartment, he was just paranoid.
Yes.
Paranoid.
Hikaru slowly sat back down, eyes darting around the room.
He wanted to sleep so, so badly. But every time he almost dozed off something happened, and it wasn't quite a good thing.
It was like... killing intent, almost. But not quite.
Hikaru thudded his head against the back of his wall, mind racing sluggishly. He couldn't really breathe that well-- his gaze was flashed with fear and his stomach was churning.
He was so, so cold.
His eyes slid closed.
A gleeful sort of intent flooded the room, and Hikaru forced his eyes to remain closed. He deepened his breathing, letting his sword fall to the ground and his chakra go sluggish.
A few minutes passed, then another intent flooded the room.
Malice.
So much familiar malice, making his heart race and his head spin. He forced his breathing to remain the same although he was panicking.
Fingertips grazed his cheek, warm and sickeningly familiar. There was a shift of clothing, then something against his forehead that felt suspiciously like lips. A soft giggle, so familiar, and then Hikaru couldn't speak.
His throat and mouth had gone dry, and his eyes snapped open.
He couldn't move.
She was gone with the soft fluttering of clothes, a wide smile that sent a pang into him.
He was frozen solid.
Hikaru's chest heaved, breaking immediately into a cold sweat. If she was here-- how was she here? But if she was here, then what the hell was she planning on doing? What was happening?
Fingers dug into his skin, a voice in his ear. "Hikaru-chan, I've got a little surprise for you!" Hamasaki chirped, and Hikaru felt a wave of foreboding race through him.
Breathe, Hikaru, breathe. She's not here, she is not here, it would be impossible. Use your mind.
Blackness. Thick, dark, blackness that pressed all around him. It curled between his thin fingers, around his ice cold limbs. The scent of mist hung heavily in the air, and the room was practically ice. Hikaru couldn't even shift to warm himself up.
He was left laying down, in bonds colder than the room itself. And the blackness didn't quite help either.
The eyes finally left, and Hikaru was alone.
He took in a sweet gasp of air that rang out in the bedroom, louder than anything he'd done so far.
His chest tightened, much like there was a metal band around his ribcage and pressing, squeezing until it made him feel like he would burst. All he really knew was that his heartbeat was so loud in his head, his fingers pulsating with cold.
A throbbing headache began.
And, with just a glimpse of her, Hikaru began floating. His eyes couldn't quite focus on anything, mind blank. He couldn't exactly bring himself to move his limbs, nor would he even try.
His limbs were not his own.
They belonged to somebody else, somebody other than him. They couldn't be his, after all, he didn't feel attached to them. There was a numbness to them, much like the feeling inside of his head that told him he should be panicking.
But he couldn't dig far enough into his mind to remember why.
Sure, she'd shown up, but if he was like this... If he was disconnected from whatever she was looking for, he would be safe. He had to be safe, after all, because it wasn't happening to him.
Hikaru resumed floating.
And then he was in the kitchen, daylight streaming in through the living room window. The door was wide open.
Hikaru blinked, then he blinked again.
He glanced down, seeing a cup of tea in his hands. Surprise coursed through him as he resumed pouring himself more tea. He'd vaguely remembered doing this before-- when was it again? Hikaru didn't quite recall, but the scene was heavily familiar.
He headed back into the living room, setting his cup down on the coffee table. He resumed going over Deidara's seal, especially now that he could pick seals up again.
Eyes bored sickeningly into his back.
Oh. That's why he'd even gone out here in the first place-- Hikaru had gotten sick of being in the corner. Then a noise had come from the kitchen, and he'd gone to investigate, and there was a bowl broken on the ground. This was at dawn, and now it was about... 9 am?
Hikaru glanced over at the clock.
Yeah. 9 am.
A kunai arched slowly through the air, whistling cleanly towards the clock. Shards of broken glass embedded into the carpet, the clock stopping a few seconds before twelve.
Hikaru blinked.
He didn't understand.
Then, all at once, it hit him as he dodged underneath another kunai aimed for his shoulder. His heart raced in his ears as he left his apartment, chased by an invisible killing intent.
Hikaru felt the light brush against his face, the freezing wind raging against his body, making him take a step back. He pulled up the scarf he'd forgotten that he'd tugged on, adjusting the gloves on his hands.
He was weak. Whoever had arrived to kill him had chosen the perfect time to do it. After all, he'd been sick only a week or so ago, and he hadn't trained in awhile. He was weaker even more so now that his head spun with every step, and he was always cold.
Hikaru could tell that they'd been spying on him for awhile-- setting up the target, the perfect place to do it. And they were attempting to drive him out of his apartment for a reason, but for what? He was likely also playing into their hands, considering the eyes were still on him.
Hikaru walked calmly down the street, ducking into an alleyway. Children ran by, laughing, their noses running and their cheeks ruddy. His senses flared, screaming at him to get down.
He jumped up instead, crouching on the side of the wall. A kunai flew past his eye, cutting off some of his bangs. He raised an eyebrow at where the kunai had come from, meeting a pair of cold brown eyes.
Hikaru continued on his way, jumping down from the wall. His feet hit the cold, hard-packed dirt with a soft twinge of pain, but Hikaru pushed it away.
His hands were shaking.
He walked out of the alleyway, glancing quickly behind him as a voice echoed down the alley. It was warm and familiar, one that had talked to him late at night when Hamasaki had left.
"Check the river."
And then Hikaru pulled out a kunai, eyes narrowing. His mind raced with both panic, chakra signatures reaching out for--
A lock of pink hair fell in front of him, rough but also well-cared for.
No no no no-
Hikaru's breath hitched, and he shunshined towards the river. His entire body was shaking wildly, nerves making his hands shake. He couldn't make a kill like this.
Vegatation brushed against his feet, and he leaned against a tree. The bark was rough, cutting deeply into his hands. Black dots danced before his eyes, blood rushing to his head until he could barely see.
He was dizzy, overwhelmingly so, but he still stumbled forward.
Hikaru fell to his knees for a few seconds.
A heartbeat passed, filled with longing and fear. Pink hair floated in the river, a winter jacket washed up on the bank.
He struggled upwards, his steps uselessly faltering. The calm crashing of the river waves on the shore rang heavily in his ears as the pink hair came closer.
His fingertips brushed the cold jacket, shaking and shivering. It was ice-cold, a shock to his entire body. He blinked a few times, violet eyes bouncing between the body and what was in his hands.
He reached out a hand, pulling the body close. It was soaking wet as he heaved her onto the shore.
She was wearing her civillian clothes.
She was wearing her civillian clothes. They'd taken her from her home, and, and--
He assesed the damage, slipping back into the war-like mindset.
She had the kanji 'weak' branded into her forehead, jade green eyes wide and blank. Her hair was rough, cropped to just below her chin. There was a cut over her neck, slicing deep and revealing the gleaming white of her spine.
It was not a pretty way to die, nor was it clean and painless.
They'd tortured her.
They'd tortured Sakura, kind Sakura who was sometimes mean to everybody. They'd branded her as weak when she was one of the strongest he'd ever known.
The Sakura who'd invited him for tea, the one who'd greeted him cheerfully, the one who was so intrested in seals. The one who Ino looked up to, the one who even Sasuke was beginning to be friendly with her.
How would he tell them?
How could he tell them?
Her eyes-- blank, likely once filled with heartbreaking fear-- bored into him.
Hikaru reached out a hand, his fingertips touching her cold face. He closed her eyelids, a flash of hot fury pulsing through him before it fell away.
Weak.
He was weak.
___
Oops, my fingers slipped...
Original: 12/25/2020
Edited: 03/15/2021
This chapter contains 1958 words!