-by Alena S. Anigor

---

The forest is deep and frightening when they meet again.

The sky is dark, heavy, ominous clouds rolling over them. She trembles inwardly, but on the outside, she looks calm, collected. She looks ready. She should be.

A boy, no...A young man is standing in front of her, his posture rigid and unyielding, his demeanor cold and calculating. He looks almost regal, superior to her.

She can’t see his face, but she can see his eyes. She can see red wheels in the darkness of his face turning.

A kunai is already in her hand, fingers brushing and slipping down the cold metal, slowly, carefully. She doesn’t want to alarm him.

She knows he can see and feel everything, though. He’s a Sharingan bearer. She knows him.

No...She knew him once...but that was a long time ago.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, her voice coming out as a half-whisper, trembling slightly with the wind. Inner Sakura grimaces and scolds at herself; she wanted it to sound different.

He is silent for a few moments, the bangs flying into his shadowed face, but not hiding the fearsome red of his eyes.

“Where is he?” He asks in a low, deep voice and she knows whom he is talking about.

It’s always been about him, hasn’t it?

She tries hard not to think about his voice and how much it has changed...how much he has changed.

She frowns in the darkness, the sound of the wind in the branches, the smell of grass and dirt below her. The scent of him in front of her.

She is not stupid; she knows his strength, his power. She knows it now, she recognizes it again. The only thing she can’t recognize are his eyes.

“I don’t know,” she replies, her voice now steady and firm. She is telling him the truth.

She can feel him watching her, observing her, evaluating, calculating. And she wonders briefly if this is the night she will die – in a forest, in the dark, alone, and by his hand. Oh, what a tragic death that would be.

But, she doesn’t want to die. Not yet.

Red disappears and she can’t see anything anymore as he closes his eyes briefly.

She is waiting, the kunai already slipping down her sweaty fingers, the air becoming thick. It’s hard to breathe and she can feel her blood pulsating quickly in her ears, in her heart and she opens her mouth to inhale deeply when she sees blood in his eyes again.

“Sakura,” He whispers and she blinks, his lips speaking her name for the first time again. It sounds so odd, so strange. Tainted.

She wants to shake her head, but she restrains herself from doing that.

She doesn’t flinch when he takes a step forward; instead, she leans backwards a bit, taking her stance, clutching the kunai once again with renewed strength.

He stops and she stares at him in anticipation, waiting, expecting something to happen, to begin and to end everything.

The leaves churn around them, swirling and playing on the ground, and her nose wrinkles when the wind carries a well known scent her way.

The scent she hates, despises and lives for.

The scent of blood.

She inhales sharply when he moves forward, his eyes and hair and face a mere blur, and she gasps when she finds herself pinned against the tree, her back pressed tightly against the rough bark, her front pressed against the solidity of his body.

Her breath hitches as she stares at him, at his dark, handsome face, into the red abyss of his eyes.

She can see him better now...And, oh...he has changed.

His grip on her is iron-like, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her upper arms. She feels the pain but she doesn’t express it.

The kunai slips out of her hand and falls onto the ground, lying still and useless like she is right now.

“Sakura,” His voice reaches her ears again, his breath tickling her cheeks.

He is close and she tries to back away from him, for she knows she must. But she can’t.

He leans in and presses his cheek to hers, his lips brushing her ear and making her jerk violently in his grip.

He seems almost amused and she curses him out loud, her body thrashing against his, to no avail. He had gotten stronger and she is no longer the one to top him with her chakra.

He moves back slightly and she’s staring into the black of his eyes. The eyes she used to know. Sasuke-kun’s eyes.

She doesn’t know what kind of game he’s playing with her when he lets go of her suddenly, a soft breeze flying by and she is left to stare ahead, wide-eyed.

He is standing in front of her just like a few minutes before, just a shadow hidden in the game of light and dark.

The Sharingan is activated again and that’s the only sign that he is still there.

She grabs the kunai quickly and throws it at him, her aim perfect, fueled by her anger and emotions, residing still somewhere deep within her.

He avoids it effortlessly, making her growl in frustration.

“I hate you!” She screams, her voice echoing through the forest, over the branches and into the dark sky.

He is quiet again, and she has to squint to see if he’s still there, his body only a silhouette in the darkness now, surrounded by the sounds of the forest and the night.

“And I thought you said you loved me.”

She blinks when she can’t see the outline of his body anymore or feel his presence. His scent lingers for a while, remaining on her clothes and her skin, reminding her of something sweet and dirty and innocent and tainted all in one. The scent of Sasuke-kun and the Sharingan bearer.

It reminds her of a sin.

She sinks down to sit on the ground limply, staring into the dull darkness of the forest, her mind replaying his words.

And I thought you said you loved me.

She laughs quietly, bitterly and looks up to gaze at the clouds above, no stars there to lighten her path.

“I did,” She whispers to the forest quietly, “Once.”