Acquiring Sentence (discontinued)

Ground

Finished: 2-2-2019

:::

She woke up the next day, feeling a headache coming, and put a hand to her forehead, channeling some chakra to soothe the feeling. Dark bags were prominent under her eyes and she couldn't help but gaze aimlessly at the door facing her. Maybe someone would go through, maybe not. Maybe someone who cared would come and try to comfort her. Not take her to the therapist and offer some food and a small talk to relieve stress. That would have been enough, she supposed, for her not to get worse.

But no. They just had to take her to that fucking guy and make her do things against her will. It was complete and utter bullshit. How was any of it supposed to help? If they just helped her find Itachi, ask him about all of it, and then get back, it would all be okay! They didn't even know about the seal! It was a large mass injected with chakra inside, so she didn't know how they hadn't detected it yet. Hell, maybe they could just go ask the Hokage, he should know about all this. To the extent of her information, maybe he was even in onto it.

She groaned and stood up to go to the bathroom, locking the door behind her despite knowing no one would come. It didn't hurt to take precautions.

A while later, she came out in her usual clothes— a black shirt and grey sweatpants— after taking a shower.
She tied her hair in a low ponytail, nostalgia hitting her as she did so, and quickly went down the wooden stairs to the kitchen, happy that she had woken up first for once ever since Shikaku had been into her life. He was always here moments before her, waking up her parents in the process, and leaving her annoyed, not being able to be alone in the mornings. It was a fresh change.

A knock came from the door. Her face twitched. She had just sat down. In last efforts, a dark shadow materialized and rushed across the room to the house's door, hardening itself and twisted the doorknob at command. She didn't even look at who was there before she continued making her tea. While she was scarred, that definitely did not mean she couldn't do normal things like this. What did you take her for, a mental?

She inwardly snorted and drank her tea on one of the tall stools, looking at the smoke wafting out of the glass cup.

Suddenly, a deep voice cleared their throat, but Shiru paid no mind, just waving a hand to him to let him know she'd acknowledged him to be inside the abode. The man, Shikaku, sighed and rubbed his temples.

"I want to take you to Inoichi, Shiru-chan. We have something to discuss before the matter is taken to the Hokage," he said, dismissing the fact that she had ignored him.

Her eyes suddenly flickered to look him in the eye, a glare following. He could've sworn she had leaked some really strong killing intent for a moment there, almost making him dizzy.

"Can't. I'm going to talk with Hokage-sama about a matter. Don't come." She quickly went back to drinking her tea after saying that, acting like nothing had happened. Shikaku, baffled, grabbed her hand. He heard a low growl coming from her, and she snapped her head to look at him hey again, her brown eyes looking dull but fierce and cold. He shivered inwardly.

"I'm afraid we already made plans for it, Shiru-ch—" he was interrupted by a stronger look.
"Add -chan to my name again and I'll make sure the to come over on the weekends, too," she threatened, knowing fully well that he hated her coming over.

He started sweating bullets, already knowing she had figured him out from that one time, and nodded in exasperation. This could wait, right? Right. He waved a hand to her and released her from his grip, not even getting a nod out of her as she put the glass cup into the sink, going back upstairs. He grumbled, leaving the home. Could he even call it home? It was a mess. It deserved to be called a house instead.

::

She had contemplated her words. Yes. She was going to go to the Hokage, appointment or not, and was asking him about the massacre and Itachi. If he answered willingly, great. If not, she'd have to pry deeper for answers out of him. Worst case scenario, she gets killed for knowing too much yet again. A sigh escaped her lips.

Would the Hokage even let her talk? It seemed only yesterday when she'd go to him for some D-Rank missions that were mandatory before promotion. Where he would give a grandfatherly smile and pat her head when she would pout like the child she used to be when she had been a gennin. She had been 7. It's been 6 years. Her head suddenly started to throb, an immense headache hitting her in an instant. She hissed and clawed at the pillow she was holding, doing her best not to lose consciousness. If she did and it wasn't night, then something would happen. She just knew it.

She abruptly stood up and went to her door, locked it, held the handle tight and her other hand to the wall to her right, and—

Bam!

Her eyes turned wide when she realized —

It wasn't going away.

She quickly scampered to grab her hand mirror, and opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out. The seal.

It was glowing black. No other color. She didn't know how she knew it was glowing black, since a mouth was supposedly dark itself, but it was. She got the bottle she always kept with her and drank. She drank and drank and drank until not even a drop was left. Her tongue was searing hot, like those metal poles that are dipped in fire until they're extremely hot before planting them on your skin to make a scar. She could hear the sizzling sound it made. It was horrifying. Of all the things she'd experienced. This was just—

Horrible. Excruciating. It blinded her with rage that other people younger than her had to go through this in their lifetime.

She questioned what she'd done. All she had done today was talk to that Nara. That's it. And if it was about that Madara, wouldn't it have hurt yesterday? She mulled it over as her tongue's heat reduced to a sharp needle feeling. She looked at her window outside.

Her eyes seemed to roll to the back of her head as her body crashed to the ground.