5,4) THE TENTATIVE NATURE OF TRUST

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[Hi guys sorry for not publishing any early chapters during Christmas, my parents kept dragging me to all sorts of things...

Finally the saiino meeting as promised.

Thanks to all the people who have been voting lately.

Alchemy has finally reached 100 votes (well just over a hundred now) 1/5 of the way to my halfway goal. Alchemy is also now 13th in #nejiten thanks guys.]

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Ino:


My vision was blurry like a pane of glass on a foggy autumn morning.
But as as I beheld the person whose hands were firmly braced on my shoulders, fear started to swell up inside my heart.
For the pale skin and depthless black eyes of the person before me did not belong to Miyako.

His lilting voice was a melody that left me breathless as the seriousness of the situation became apparent.

"Hi, my name is Sai," he said smiling broadly reminding me of a predator opening its jaws to snap through the bones of its prey. His breath, as cold as his hands caressed my cheeks. His face mere centimetres from mine, he continued to draw closer as if studying me.

Instead of running or screaming I stood more still than the mossy statue in the heart of the graveyard.
I shut my eyes, hoping, praying for a miracle. I had always hated myself since that day. I had always hoped to be put out of my misery. But now when actually faced with the prospect of dying; I wanted to live.

I wanted to live and make things right––somehow. I wanted to somehow atone for my sins before I died. Otherwise I would never be able to face Chouji, Shikamaru and my parents in the afterlife.

But nothing would help now. My life would  now officially be forfeit, no matter what I did… no matter what I said.

But I had to try…

Only as I felt his hands remove themselves from my shoulders did I dare open my eyes. I gathered enough mettle to slap him.
My palm stung as it met its mark on his pale skin sending him stumbling backwards a few meters.

I fisted my duvet as I scrambled backwards. To get away–to get away from him.


In my obtrusive panic all my thoughts tumbled and spun around me becoming a melee that was just as obscure as it was uncontrollable.
Ideas came in quick, sharp bursts like pain from a flesh wound.
A disjointed myriad of fragmented plans flashing like lightning during a thunderstorm.

I continued lurching backwards colliding against the opulent headboard. Before my mind could process everything through my fear; I was trapped.

The intruder––whose name I had either forgotten or hadn't been told at all––had recovered from my feeble attack. He sprung towards me and crouched, in an attack position, on my bed. His hands gripping my wrists, pinning me to the headboard. 


It was in this moment that panic evaporated from my mind like the mist on a chilly morning. Clearing the way for congruent, astute thoughts that melded together to form solid plans. I focussed all my efforts into studying the situation, thus making myself more perceptive to my surroundings and my attacker's weaknesses.
It was then that I met his gaze. His inky eyes were cold and his expression serious. His face a mask of inscrutability. Though I had probably imagined it, I could have sworn that I detected a hint of irritation in his accessing stare.

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