The Book of Love

PROLOUGE DEUX

Sakura was awakened by the light that filtered through the small cracks of the curtains. As her mind slowly shifted between states, her body was unable to move, muscles unwilling to budge even the slightest bit. It almost felt as though she was trapped within her own body, and though a rational mind would wait for the sleep paralysis to wear off, she blamed her body's lag on a particular force that she felt could have even stopped her heart if it wanted to.

"He's back." Sakura replayed that moment in her mind, over and over again. His arrival. Her embrace. How his scent clinged to her even now. It was as though he was lying next to her in bed and if she could just turn her head slightly to the side, she'd see him there. He was that present to her, and yet when she finally was able to turn her head, she found that there was no one there.

Her routine after getting out of bed went as usual: washing herself, brushing her teeth, having a small breakfast,and finally walking around the house for the thousandth time and wondering about it's history. This was certainly not Sasuke's childhood home. Indeed, that place had been destroyed when Pein had invaded all those years ago. What was built over the remnants of that place was it's replica. Exact, yet modernly updated versions of what it would have looked like inside the typical Uchiha home.

It was almost cult like, how many symbols of the clan were painted in the home,and how many banners flew outside denoting the clan of the district. These were either a proud or an arrogant people. Thinking about this, she looked at the symbols that were now in her home— those of her own clan, and the glance that Sasuke had given her. There was such a displeasure to it that she felt guilty of painting over them in the first place. Was it truly wrong in his eyes?"It must have been like I was erasing a part of him from his home when I was only a guest," she concluded to herself. "I only wish you'd tell me how you feel about this...your clan and their history."

He and she both knew the truth of it all. She wondered how it must have felt to realize everything he grew up with and everything his clan believed in was a lie fabricated by someone else with their own purposes. These people spun their story, and perhaps because they were too young, or because these people were older, they believed in their lies. There was no questioning the narrative, and they— all Uchihas, lived and died by these fabricated notions— instructions that would lead them to do what the story maker wanted them to do. For Sasuke, it was to kill his beloved brother, and for the clan as a whole, to destroy the world. This all brought about only more curiosity from Sakura and she could only find herself asking 'Why?'

Why would Sasuke fall for every single one of Itachi's lies?

Why could he not see through these lies when their clan prided themselves on seeing with such powerful eyes?

Why should he even associate himself with such hatred, bloodshed, and deceit after all that occurred?

Why did he?

Sakura pulled the red, white, and black paint from the closet beneath the stairway. Where she saw circles, she knew paper fans had to take their place. Sasuke wanted his home back, and the symbol that he wore, the one that had brought about such reckoning, would be the mark that claimed it.

And perhaps her, along with it.