Chapitre 7: Chapter 7
The sky wasn't even dark as she left the stinky hospital—Tsunade had told her to go home early again, and get some rest, as they were expecting a group of jounin returning that evening. She wanted her apprentice available in case there was anything nasty when they returned. Sakura had debated with herself whether to return to Sasuke's house, but decided against it. The house was clean; there was nothing for her to do there.
Dragging her feet, Sakura wandered home, going mostly on autopilot; as there was nothing to do, there was nothing to keep outer Sakura distracted from joining Inner Sakura in the emo corner. That was where she was now, in the deepest recesses of her mind, despairing over the loss of Sasuke.
"Sakura?"
Sakura looked up with a smile on her face, ready to fool whoever was greeting her into thinking that she was not as miserable as she felt, but her face quickly fell again as she found out the caller of her name. It was Ino, standing outside the flower shop, taking down the display of flowers that stood outside the door.
"What do you want, Ino?" she asked heavily, not in the mood for arguing.
Ino gave a smirk, "Sorry, bill-board brow, didn't know I wasn't allowed to ask what was getting you down."
Sakura sighed and rubbed her temples, a slight headache coming on, "It's nothing…nothing I'd expect you to remember anyways."
Ino rested her hands on her hips and frowned a little, "Care to share?"
"Not really," was Sakura's blunt reply before she started walking again.
"I'm betting it has something to do with why you're wearing black," Ino remarked snidely, as Sakura drew level with her, "Who died?"
Sakura came to an abrupt stop, her feet suddenly refusing to move. Petal pink bangs dangled in front of her eyes, hiding the tears that were forming as her head was hung dolefully.
"Nobody died," Sakura whispered quietly, refusing to look at Ino, "Just please leave me alone today."
Stepping nimbly in front of Sakura with her arms stretched wide, Ino blocked the path as Sakura took a step forward. "Tell me, Sakura."
Again, like Tsunade's tone, it was an order, not a request, spoken in a way that could not be argued against. With a quiet exhalation, Sakura replied quietly, "It's three years to the day, as of tomorrow, that Sasuke-kun left Konoha."
Ino, whose arms were still stretched out wide, slowly dropped them to the side, looking worriedly at the girl whom she had once called her best friend.
"That means that Orochimaru will have the ability to take over…Sasuke-kun's body," Sakura continued without being asked to do so, "His body will no longer be his to control, even if his soul still lives… He is as good as dead the world."
A tear fell off the end of her nose and landed with a quiet drip on the ground. Hugging her black covered arms, she tried to let the midnight folds encompass her—make her disappear.
"I need to go home, Ino," she said shakily, "I need my strength for tomorrow, you know?"
Ino did not even raise a finger to stop Sakura as she passed by, but stared after her, not sure what to do, if there was something she could do. Quietly and quickly Sakura headed up the street, slipping past her mother in the kitchen unnoticed, and up the stairs to her bedroom. Ino would probably cause her a world of trouble now that she had revealed the reason behind her mourning, but Sakura simply failed to care.
Gingerly she picked up the octagonal frame that held her picture of team seven. It was the only picture she had of him, the only reminder of a happy time long past. She hugged the photo close to her heart, and lay down on the bed, letting the tears run silently down her face.
Kurenai had quickly leapt to her feet at the smell of the blood, and made her way across the terrain quickly, following the scent as quickly as she could before the wind changed directions. The chakra that she had concentrated in her nose was dismissed as the smell became overwhelming—now, even without her enhanced senses, she could find the odour distinctly in the air, and soon a small thin trail of blood could be seen on the forest floor.
Leaping branch to branch she followed it, noting how it was straight in direction, like something had dragged the injured being. The straight trail then ended in a pool of blood, and Kurenai dropped down to the ground, touching the red liquid experimentally. It was sticky and partially dried; whatever had been there had only been there a few hours earlier. The trail of blood then continued through the forest, except it was splattered in a wavering line. Whatever had been bleeding had either escaped, or had been left to die and had struggled onward regardless.
Despite the age of the blood, and the amount lost, there was still a small chance that whatever it was, or whoever it was, was still alive somewhere. Of course it could be the blood of an injured animal, but it was good just to be sure—it might save someone's life.
Quickly she ran after the trail of blood, following it for a while on the forest floor; it was thinner than before, like some of the bleeding had stopped, and the blood only pooled where the thing had stopped to rest. Kurenai jumped over a tree root, side stepped a branch, and almost tripped as the forest seem to cut off abruptly before her into a clearing.
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État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone