Arc One: A Different Type of Halcyon: Uno Reverse

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"I saw you 

in my dreams again,

I held you a little tighter 

because

 I knew when I would wake up

you'd  be gone."


There was a quiet lull in the late summer air, quiet but a tension of a strange sort lingering with it. Konoha had seen louder, crueler, less peaceful nights, so the ones that came soft and silently were taken in with relish.

Pass the Hokage Administrative Building, a few ways down from the well-known Yamanaka Flower Shop, and right on the edge of Senju Park was a section of housing area that bordered right between the straight shinobi district and the purely civilian district.

In one particular house, that was a standard two-story with a raised garden, was the Haruno's. The lights in the house were off and soft snoring could be heard, but if one listened with keen ears, they would hear soft whimpering.

The whimpering led to a room with pastel pink walls, and wooden floors covered with various hues of dark pink elaborate embroidered rugs. The window was open, allowing a cool breeze to blow in, ruffling the pink curtains and causing the ivory rocking chair near it to move a bit. In one corner of the room held an ash-pink colored toy chest, while in the other corner of the room held a dresser with plenty of clothes that would find their way into donations, because the young toddler who owned the room would outgrow the clothes before even trying some of them on. 'The room clearly showed a child loved and dotted upon.'

In nearly the center of the room pressed up against the wall, clearly decorated with love and care for a daughter, was a bed carved from the wood of a Sakura tree far down in Tea Country. A dark reddish-brown color that was smooth and sturdy enough to keep the child it held safe and sound. 'The seals etched at the bottom of the frame saw to that.

The child sleeping fitfully in the bed appeared delicate and soft, much like the fancy porcelain dolls young noble girls in the capital played with. She had creamy smooth skin, the color of warm vanilla, yet to scar, and peach-hued lips in a delicate cupid-bow shape. The tuft of hair she did have was the color of sakura and meadowsweet flowers, and underneath her closed eyelids were eyes the color of coral jade gemstones fishermen would collect to sell to civilian nobles. The whimpers continued to grow louder and harsher than before by the minute, until four minutes trickled by and the wails slowly got quieter, softer, until finally tempering off as blazing green eyes snapped open.

Discombobulated.

That's how she feels when her green eyes flutter open, and she takes in the achingly familiar room of her childhood. It's hard for her to ease the tension her muscles involuntarily found pressing, because at this moment Sakura was a little girl who wasn't perceived as a threat. 'And she was one. Tsunade saw to that, and so did war.' "It worked." She breathes out as her petite hands, void of scars or callouses, twist the periwinkle pink sheets in relief.

The pastel pink walls covered in childish drawings and pictures of a happy home cause Sakura to bite down on her tongue, so she doesn't sob. The traveling seal had work, and a huge portion of her soul was overjoyed about the results, but the relatively depressed side of her soul wasn't.

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