5,3) INESCAPABLE PASTS

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[Hello, sorry this took about half a week to post. I actually finished it on Friday already but I'm only posting it now... Partially because nothing I wrote seemed good enough so I kept editing and changing this chapter heavily; and partially because my phone is really old and is starting to give me problems (like freezing for 12 hours whenever I tried to open the Microsoft draft of this chapter to copy ot over to wattpad...so frustrating)

Like requested we have Ino's pov...]

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Ino:


I sat on the window seat in utter silence as I gazed in wonder at the world outside my window.

I watched as various swarms of diurnal birds manifested and diverged in sky during the dying hours of the day. I loved the sunset although I hated what it represented––the arrival of dusk bringing with it the onset of sleep.

The sky clung to colour as if it were its very life force––hues of tangerine, garnet and punch-pink gradually darkened to sangria- and boysenberry-purple󐇘––before surrendering itself wholly to the insidious dark.

A melange of colour filled the sky just a few heartbeats ago, wasn’t it wonderful? 

The melee of colour that illuminated the sky resonated with the colour within my veins…my body––my soul.

If refracting rays from the sun coloured the sky then emotions coloured the soul. Just as the colour of the sky perpetually varying; emotions were tumultuous in nature. One's temperament could evolve from jubilant to melancholic within the span of a minute. Thus changing one's outlook on life and influencing those around you.

In short emotions were vital to live life to the fullest degree, though they were also powerful if not controlled.

I hated nightfall as with the cover of darkness came nightmares and memories. Both equally woeful.
Though my people had long believed me to be dead, there were still ambiguous whispers about a princess cast away into the woods. A princess who eternally dwelled in the land of dreams. A princess cursed with eternal slumber.

Those rumours were frivolously false and ironic. I hated sleep––more than never being able to press my feet against the soft grass. More never again getting to feel the wind kiss my scalp and it lift my long, golden hair off my shoulders.

Miyako, my governess–– the only person who truly knew that I was alive––had still not returned from her supposedly three day long supply run.
I had owed both my life and survival thus far to her.

I knew better than to worry, there was just probably some delay, she  was a capable kunoichi and could take care of herself. But unease gnawed at my nerves nonetheless.
I sat up still long past midnight––waiting––and stalling. But I couldn’t outlast it any longer.

Tiredness swallowed me whole. My honey lashes fluttered and oblivion engulfed me. Sleep came over me like cruel shattering waves more vivid than ever before. It was worse tonight––worse than normal––though not the worst I've ever experienced. It was as though the intensity of my exhaustion had created a prefect canvas for them.  The nightmares…I mean.

Every nightmare was slightly different––yet wholly the same.

For one, they all took place on the exact same day––that day. Though they all took place at different times during the course of that day.

The concept of time itself was different as well. Sometimes time seemed to zoom by if if carried on swift invisible wings. In others time seemed to stagnant, and wind like the slow meandering of a near dried-up brook.

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