empathy (rewritten 2019)

chapter five

For a reason unknown to Sakura, Keiko decided to stay away. No longer those walks after the Academy minutes before the sun could say goodbye, no longer those three steaming warm pastries from a basket of plenty, no longer a friend she could have. Keiko was as gone as day was in the nighttime, as gone as winter in the summer--what was once there, was now not, and she could have to wait an eternity for her again.

The eternity stretched on for a week, full of lonely sunsets and afraid classmates, still shaken from what happened and far too hesitant to even acknowledge the pinkette. The week passed and the next school day Sakura was surprised to see Keiko standing by the third tree, a basket in hand and a smile on her face--as though the week was just a figment of her imagination, as though she walked home in her dreams for an infinity, alone and cold.

And she was angry. "Where were you?" Sakura demanded, clenching her fists. Keiko's smile remained unchanged.

"I had to go somewhere, I'm so sorry, Sakura," she said, calm and familiar. She reached in the basket and held out the three pastries, wrapped and tied with a red bow. "I'll tell you when I'm walking you home, okay?"

Sakura growled and in a clawed grasp she threw the pastries on the ground, and in another grasp she took Keiko by her sleeves and threw her to the side. Keiko held a few more pounds over Sakura, but the pinkette was just learning how to throw her own weight during Taijutsu.

And so Keiko stumbled, losing her footing, and felt the sleeves of her black sweater rip, caught in the feral nails of her younger friend. The shredded sleeves fell amongst the pastries in tatters as Sakura took another step, daunting and angry and betrayed, towards Keiko.

"I trusted you! You weren't supposed to leave me!" Sakura shouted and echoed across the listening trees. "Not like Ino! Not like everyone else!"

"Sakura--"

"Why? Where did you go?" Sakura felt the chakra pump and move and divide and meld together with every beat of her heart; she had no plan as to how she'd strike but she felt that if she closed her eyes and moved her body would know how and what--until she saw it.

Flesh--flesh that was pink and jagged atop Keiko's forearms, telling of horrid memories and cowardice. Keiko noticed and crossed her arms to her chest, hiding her scars. "Look, Sakura--okay, I'm gonna go, but we'll talk again tomorrow, okay?"

Keiko disappeared again, but this time left her trace, left it in the tattered sleeves and the three wrapped snacks on the ground, left as reminders--reminders that stared up at her guilt and stricken face as she realized, maybe I didn't know Keiko as well as I thought I did.