Preventing The Inevitable

Chapter 5

So, Sakura was alive. For some reason.

And she was around 95 percent sure, presuming she wasn't going crazy, that she had time-traveled too. Or rather, she was alive, because she had time-traveled. The destination? Somewhere during her fourth to fifth year of living (Sakura only knew that, due to the absence of the horrible yellow blob of color on her wall, as that one had been an accident from when she was seven.)

She would've liked to make sure of a hundred more things and clear up thousands of other uncertainties, but a five-year old shouldn't be spending so much time alone in her room, lest she be diagnosed with some personality disorder that apparently caused her to be unsocial.

Sakura had plenty of time to think more at night. First though, she needed to get more information.

Because the pink-haired man that had just entered her room wasn't her father.

"Sacchan? Sakura?"

A hand was placed on her shoulder. It was cold.

"Saaakura?"

"Oh– yes?", she said, trying to mimic the high-pitched tone her voice had had at that age.

"You spaced out, just now. What were you thinking 'bout with that tiny brain of yours, hm?", the man said, while ruffling through her hair.

On second thought, he wasn't a man, but rather a young teenager. Maybe around 12-years old? The height difference had probably messed up her perception. And the shock of seeing a stranger call himself her brother.

"See! You're doing it again. Sacchan, you are being really weird today."

"Am not!", came her shrieking reply. Sakura grimaced internally. She would need to work on her personality if she wanted to avoid dying of shame.

The two of them were sitting at the dinner table, while her mother cooked food. She had decided to go downstairs earlier after this... person came to fetch her.

"Yeah, sure. That's what they all say and later turn out to be a–"

"Yūta!", her mother interrupted him. "You're not supposed to tell a child that!" She started scolding him about what not to tell small children.
Sakura watched the interaction closely, trying to figure out the relationship between her mother and her so-called brother. He probably wasn't adopted though, pink hair and all. Maybe he was her half-brother? The hair came from her (their?) father, after all.

That reminded her...

"Where's Otōsan?", she asked.

Her mother stilled, while Yūta (likely his name) coughed on his drink. "Sacchan, what do you mean by that? Tell your Nīchan."

"Just... that.", Sakura carefully said. What was going on? Where was he?

Her mother suddenly kneeled next to her and Sakura jumped a little (She seriously needed to get the ninja-senses back.). Her voice was soft. "Sakura, dear You know your Otōsan isn't here anymore. He went on a long trip."

"A trip to where? When is he coming back?" A suspicion she didn't want to confirm was dawning upon her. "Is–... Is he gonna come back?"

Mebuki sighed deeply. "Sacchan, we already talked about that, didn't we? Otōsan can't come back. You said goodbye to him, remember?" She put a warm hand against her cheek. "It's just us now."

"But don't worry, my dearest sister! I shall protect you!", Yūta loudly declared next to her. She heard his voice muffled, brain racing with thoughts, as the ringing in her ears was suddenly back at full force.

Huh?

Her father–... Otōsan was dead?

But she had only just come back! Wasn't she supposed to save everyone? Did she fail?

Had she already failed?

But... Why would... How could... Was she–

"Sakura!"

And there was the cold hand on her shoulder again. This time on both sides. They were swinging her back and forth, a voice calling her name over and over. Her cheeks were wet.

Blood?

"Hey! Sakura! Why're you crying? What made you sad now?" Yūta's grip around her was tight and somehow made her feel secure. It reminded her of a strong arms carrying her around the village, tightly holding her so she wouldn't fall, calling her by the special nickname only he had used–

"Blossom?" And emerald eyes just like hers were staring at her, full of concern. "Whats wrong? Will you tell me? I will try to make it better."

And Sakura knew he was a stranger, no matter how much he claimed not to be. But those eyes and the face that carried so much resemblance to–

Sakura threw herself at Yūta and strong arms wrapped around her, protecting her from the dangers of the future. She clung to this stranger like he was her lifeline.
And suddenly she was overwhelmed with feelings, not knowing whether to be overjoyed or devastated. Her mother was alive, standing right there (Sakura would've liked to hug her too). And everyone else was alive. She could save them.

But at the same time, she had lost her father before she had a chance to see him again. What if she lost them again? How was she supposed to save everyone?

Could she even do that?

Sakura had the urge to slap herself, throw herself out of this trance. But instead, she pulled at the pink locks of her probably-brother, as he yelled at her to stop. Her mother cupped her face with her warm hands and was telling her that it was all going to be alright. That she didn't have to worry about a thing.

But Okāsan, she wanted to say.

How am I supposed to save the world if I am so weak? How am I supposed to stop the Tsuki no Me plan if I am clinging to a stranger? How am I supposed to stop something that has been bound to happen for centuries if I cannot even stop myself from crying?

Tell me, Okāsan, she wanted to say, how could I not worry about a thing, when I am the only one that knows about the end of the world?

How could she rest idly, when the gods were telling her to prevent the inevitable?

[1022 words]
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