The Butterfly | By : tealeaf Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 1742 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Disclaimer: No Naruto still isn’t mine I’m just borrowing
the characters for this story.
A/N: heh heh, you guys will hate me at the end of this [evil
grin] but it sets up this awesome scene I’ve got planned for the next chapter.
Umm, I’m pretty sure they don’t have Pink Floyd music in the
Naruto world, I’m not even sure they have great sound systems and CDs, but for
the sake of the flashback…bear with me please ^^() it just worked well so I put
it in anyway.
Another song that works really well with this chapter is
“Gravity” by Maaya Sakamoto and is from the Wolf’s Rain soundtrack. I tried to
fit the words it but it didn’t work…oh well.
To Sailor Tiamat: About Chrysanthemum. A chrysanthemum is a
type of flower that is said to bring longevity. In the song by Everclear, the
protagonists is on a desperate search for this plant which one could
extrapolate to say is symbolic of not only longevity but of truly living. In
the case of the last chapter, the chrysanthemums become allegories for Sakura’s
need to find Kakashi, and Sasuke’s need to find Sakura.
Thank you to everyone who reviewed chapter 8, hope you all
enjoy this new chapter and I’ll see you in the next one ^_~
~~~
The Butterfly: Chapter 9
By: Tea Leaf / Banana Soap
~~~
The rain felt good. She was resting again or rather, her
body had collapsed again. She nibbled on some food. She hated it. It was like
ash in her mouth but she chocked it down anyway. She couldn’t die from hunger
now, not when she was this close.
Tomorrow, tomorrow she’d arrive.
Her stomach knotted as she swallowed another dry bite of
some anonymous food. Her gut clenched painfully. It wasn’t used to food.
She felt sick. Her head was spinning. She leaned back
against the tree she was “resting” at. Her left leg was upraised, her left arm
resting on the knee. Her right leg was stretched out in front of her, its bonds
were becoming painfully tight. It was swollen. She suspected she might have
broken it more. But she wasn’t focused on that wound.
She was staring at her left forearm. More specifically at
the kunai still imbedded in it. The edges of the wound were full of puss and
dirt; the area surrounding it was an angry red. It was obviously badly
infected.
Still she didn’t touch the kunai.
The swimming in her head turned to spinning and the
blankness turned to fog as black spots obscured her vision familiarly.
She was really sick.
She heaved forward then as her stomach rejected the food it
had been demanding from her for days, expulsing the ash onto the ground between
her knees.
Dry heaves wracked her fragile frame and her brittle bones
rattled with the motion. Her broken rib screamed bloody murder in the form of
pain.
Eventually the heaves subsided and she rested with her head
between her now both upraised knees. Her elbows rested on her leg joints as her
hands held back the straggly strands of hair that had fallen loose from the
braid the nurses at the hospital had given her.
She was so pathetic. She was falling apart.
She wanted to rise, she wanted to keep moving forward but
every time she collapsed it got harder and harder to get back up. It was harder
and harder to take that first step.
She was so close and she was terrified.
What if it wasn’t him? What if it was? What would she say?
She closed her eyes and leaned back again, grateful for the
rain that drowned out the smell of vomit and so kept her from repeating the
exercise.
She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the rain.
She had to go.
He needed her; she could feel it in her gut, in her heart,
in her mind. The closer she got the stronger the pull. Like gravity.
He wallinlling her, she was sure of it.
She placed her hands behind her, bracing herself on the
trunk of the tree and pushed herself to her feet again. She managed a half step
before she crumbled to the ground again.
The black spots were blinding her.
Again she tried to push herself back up but this time she
didn’t even make it to her feet before she collapsed again.
The pain was gone now. She’d finally gone blind.
~~~
She smiled suddenly as she pulled a CD out of his extensive
collection. It was a single. Pink Floyd, Another Brick in the Wall.
Her grin widened as she placed it into the elaborate sound
system.
Her teacher had pathetically outdated technology when it
came to everything else, but his stereo was top of the line.
{Who would have thought he liked music so much…must go
well with his reading} her inner self had commented, her tone laden with
innuendo.
Her outer self chuckled gently as she pressed play.
Who would have thought her teacher would like a song about
the uselessness of the school system and of teachers.
The chopper sound effects started then the yelling, then the
drums, then the bass and the electric guitar.
Her head started to move with the sinister beat as she
continued to browse the CDs of which he had hundreds.
“We don’t need no education…” she sang along as the music
moved to its signature mellow motion.
“We don’t need no thought control.”
“No dark sarcasm in the classroom”
“Teachers leave them kids alone…”
“HEY! Teacher! Leave those kids alone!” she sang a little
louder as the band shouted it.
“Well if you insist.” Came a voice from behind her and she
turned around in surprise to see Kakashi standing in the entranceway with his
arms crossed and his visible eyebrow raised.
“Ah!
Kakashi-sensei!” She said in an embarrassed tone as she blushed.
“Umm, welcome home?” she half asked with a nervous smile.
“Hmph.” Was his only response as he came fully into the room
and wa ove over to the sound system.
To her surprise, instead of turning it off, he turned it up.
“If you’re going to listen to Floyd, at least do it at the
proper volume” he said as the speakers blasted and he sang along to the chorus
of “Hey teacher! Leave them kids alone!” (now sung by children in the song) and
he bopping his head to the beat as well.
“All in all, you’re just another brick in the wall”
She couldn’t help it. She just started laughing.
~~~
He was practically flying through the trees as he made use
of all the speed he’d gathered over the years.
His sharingan eyes were activated, heightening his senses
and making it easier to spot Sakura’s trail below him on the ground.
The trail was clearer now; he was catching up to her. She
couldn’t be more than two days ahead of him now.
For the first time, he was almost glad she was injured
seeing as it was really slowing her down and was making her trail easier to
follow.
~~~
Shikamaru sighed as he stared at his clipboard.
It hadn’t been easy, it had been downright life threatening,
but they’d done it.
Through a series of conditioning experiments conducted on
the butterflies as well as dissection and a lot more biology than he ever
wanted to do again, they had finally proven it.
The butterflies did think independently and they were not a
typical summoning animal, as in they weren’t part of a separate realm of more
powerful and godlike animals. Such as Gamabunta and his various underlings that
Jiraiya and Naruto summoned.
They were just normal insects.
However, it did appear that they were connected in a kind of
hive mind sort of way. The thing was though that there didn’t appear to be any
sign of one “queen” butterfly that controlled the rest. It was more like they
were once one consciousness that had dissipated and spread evenly throughout
all of the butterflies as they reproduced and their population grew.
The mind had dissolved into basic instincts, the most
prominent ones being possessiveness, self-preservation and protectiveness.
He had a huge report written up on how he believed that the
butterflies must react to something in Sakura’s blood (point figured from the
now several dead young butterflies around the puddle of dried blood on the
window sill of Sakura’s old apartment).
The new tenant said that even though he’d cleaned the stain
with bleach those butterflies kept coming back and so he had to keep the window
shut all the time.
&nb![en![endif]>
He now firmly believed that Sakura didn’t really control the
butterflies at all. They had claimed her as their own and were very protective
and possessive of her.
Gaara had told him that often when he’d been with Sakura,
butterflies had tried to land on him. He’d been protected due to the sand of
course but they hadn’t seemed to be attacking. It was more like they were
trying to subtly kill him and make it look like an accident.
Shikamaru had thought Gaara was just being paranoid.
Gaara thought the butterflies could act out of jealousy.
Regardless, his mission was over and it had brought the
results he’d expected.
{Today is good day} he mused to himself as he made
his way to the Hokage tower.
~~~
The last bars of the song faded from her mind, as did the
fog faded from her brain.
She didn’t move for a long moment after regaining
consciousness.
Finally she opened her eyes. It was still raining but it was
dark out. She must have been out for several hours.
At least her body was slightly rested now and she could keep
moving.
She pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the jarring pain
from her arm, ribs and leg, and started walking again.
She had to keep going.
~~~
Tsunade frowned over Shikamaru’s report. This really changed
everything.
If anything, it proved that Sakura was even more dangerous
than originally thought because she wasn’t even the one in control.
She sighed as she dropped the report on her desk and leaned
back.
She had to get a message to Sasuke somehow but she had no
idea where he was and the trail would be long gone by now. She’d just have to
hope his head was on straight when he found her (and she didn’t doubt for a
minute that he would find her) and so didn’t kill her but simply brought her
back.
{Phh, you’ve got better odds of Orochimaru coming back to
life and apologizing} her inner self sneered.
“Ugh…remind me why I took this job?” she muttered.
“Because in all honesty, you have nothing better to do with
your time.” A deep voice answered from the door. She could hear his smirk.
She looked up and glared at him.
Jiraiya grinned at her.
“What do you want?” she asked sulkily.
“Do I really need a reason to visit with my favorite
childhood teammate?” he asked, feigning a wound from her words.
<
<
“Yes.” She answered sarcastically.
His face fell and he gave her an annoyed look and sat down.
“Fine. Yes I do have a reason for being here.” He responded
in a childish, annoyed tone.
“What?” she said, also annoyed.
“About that girl…the little one. Are you sure Gaara’s the
right person to take care of her?” he asked.
She sighed.
“No, I’m not sure. But he’s sure and I trust him.” She
responded.
“Any word from the Uchiha kid yet?” he asked.
“Nothiothing from him or Sakura. Why do you care?” she asked
suspiciously.
“Honestly, I don’t. But that blonde kid does and its
distracting him from his work.” Jiraiya answered as he stood.
Tsunade sighed again. Even Naruto was off kilter now.
~~~
He paused to examine the scene. She’d been here, probably
less than a day ago. She’d collapsed under the tree.
There was more vomit. It hadn’t all washed away yet.
She really was sick. He frowned as worry coiled in his
stomach.
She’d tried to get up but she’d collapsed again only a few
feet away. There was a deep indentation in the undergrowth. She’d lain here a
long time, sever hours at least.
She’d lost consciousness.
She was getting worse again.
He took off, forcing his body past its limits as he pushed
for more speed.
~~~
Stoodtood there for a long time. The hospital was ten meters
in front of her and her feet were frozen to the spot.
This was it.
She bit her lip and took a deep breath through her nose and
finally took a hesitant step forward.
And then another. And another. And suddenly she was running,
heedless of her body’s protest.
At the door she hesitated again, but only for a second.
“I…I need to see…John Doe…869…” she forced out. She was out
of breath and her voice felt awkward from so long without really using it. Her
ribs ached with every breath.
The receptionist looked at hor aor a long time as though
unsure whether to admit this fy any and infected girl.
There must have been some pleading desperation clearly
visible in her face because finally the receptionist consented and gave her the
room number.
She limped away from the counter, now that she was here, it
seemed her broken leg had finally given up on her. She considered the elevator
then took the stairs.
She was stalling, she knew. She couldn’t help it.
She was nervous. She was scared. She was light-headed and
her skin felt too warm.
She limped to the sixth floor and eased the heavy door open
with great difficulty.
She felt heavy. Her feet were dragging. Her limbs were
falling limp. And still she moved on.
She came to the room and stopped. She swayed slightly.
There was something in the back of her mind pleading her to
come forward, almost ordering her.
Her hand was shaking violently as it reached for the knob and
after several unsuccessful tries, finally turned it.
The door, now unlatched, lazily drifted open on silent
hinges.
The curtains on the window were drawn, but it was in the
predawn hours so everything would have been dark anyway.
A faint glow came from a few monitoring machines, they were
the only source of light in the room, and a steady beep echoed gently through
the darkness. There was a curtain hiding the bed.
She limped over to it and her hand was still trembling so
badly she could barely grasp it.
Finally she did and she took a deep breath in an attempt to
clear her head and calm her nerves.
She only succeeded in sending a sharp pain through her torso
as the breath disturbed her rib.
She pulled the curtain and with a noisy rattle it moved, revealing
the bed.
~~~
He didn’t pause, he didn’t hesitate, he just kept running.
He burst through the hospital door and ran to the desk.
&s]>
With one hand he pushed his ANBU mask to the side, with his
other he proffered the very worn and now water stained picture.
“Have you…seen her?” he ground out between labored breaths.
The receptionist looked stunned.
“Yes, she came in about ten minutes ago” she responded.
“Where is she?” he burst out, ignoring the emotions that
swelled within him. He’d finally caught up.
“She went to room 689” She started but he was gone before
she could finish, already bounding up the staircase, taking the steps three at
a time.
He shoved the door open on the sixth floor aauseaused
briefly to consult the signs on the wall for the direction of the room and
rushed off again.
The door was open.
He slowed. He walked silently to the door and looked in. He
froze.
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