#and no sap except as third wheel for said ship | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vesperlionheart · 7 years

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Obelisk: Jasper

The buckles of her corset stung where they pressed against the freshly blooming bruises. Sakura found it hard to twist without the skin between her bonds crying out in pain. She needed to loosen the whalebone garment, but in her current position, movement was more than just a little difficult. She shuddered another breath and whimpered at how sore it left her. She had been kicked down one measly flight of stairs on an decommissioned colonial class airship, locked in a closet, left in the dark, and already she was starting to cave. She bruised so easily when she was malnourished. Even with the rainwater leaking through the filtration nets, she had little to drink during her stow away, and now that she had been captured, she doubted that was about to change.

Things were bad once more, and the fact that everyone had warned her about the dangers of stowing away on such a mediocre vessel made her shame taste all the more bitter. It was hard to stow away for long flights, and the smaller the ship or the larger the crew, the harder it got. Sakura should have known what she had attempted would be impossible, but just like the game of Tiles, she hated to give up, and just like in the game of Tiles, she ended up loosing.

She felt around for the back of her corset and felt one of the strings. There was a braid of leather and she picked at it, peeling it away from her corset until the red bead fell free from where it had been stitched in.

‘For when things get bad,’ her friend had told her before the trip even began. Sakura had a hard time believing things could be any worse, but the bead was still a dangerous thing to hold.

The footsteps overhead became hurried and she knew they were reaching port soon. They would take her, as they took all prisoners, and drop her before the inquisitors. They would trap her in the lights and know her secretes as easily as if they read them out of a book and not out of her shadows. All the work that went into readying her to take this journey would be wasted and worse if they knew what she knew.

The red bead felt heavy between her fingers.

She had seen it once, when her father had taken her into the capitol as a child. No one looked twice at such a lovely little girl, except to smile her way and tip a hat or head in greeting. She was privileged, and her father knew that better than she ever had. It was why he even bothered to take her into the House of Justice, up all those flights of stairs to the observation decks where students of Justice and Scholars of Nature watched with keen eyes and lecture notes curled up under their noses.

Children were rarely ever allowed into such a sacred place, but Sakura knew her eyes were big almost as much as her father did and made sure to use them when her papa asked a guard to help him ‘indulge his princess.’

They had seats towards the back with the other distinguished public, but she was small enough she slipped out of hers and stood in front of the glass, below the knees of a spindly scholar and his classmate. She watched with wrapped fascination as the criminal was brought forward in chains and set into place. They made the criminal stand while curtains rose all around him, revealing the illuminators; giant bulbs of glass with spirals on the inside that hummed and sparked life not unlike a lightbulb. The main difference between the bulbs made from simple science and those of the sacred science lay in what they revealed.

Sakura watched as the first switch was pulled and the hum came on. She could feel it in her bones before the sound grew louder. Light bloomed inside the glass and started to grow. It made the criminal squeal and squirm and beg to be let go, but the lights kept growing.

“They take some time to warm up,” one scholar said to another, by means of explanation.

“Why so many of them? Would not one suffice?” his younger friend asked.

“The illuminators reveal the secrets of the mind, and nothing on this earth is as complex as the human mind. One would not be enough, for it would only reveal one side of the truth. The higher the stakes, the more illuminators they bring in. I once saw a inquisition where they had to use five.”

“I still think three is overdoing it for such a petty crime.”

“They suspect he’s part of a resistance movement. They want to make sure.”

Adults only whispered about the resistance when they thought she could hear them. It wasn’t talk suited for children. The empire was too good a thing to disgrace with slanderous talk. There was no resistance, only traitors and thieves. Men and women had been speaking like that for as long as Sakura could remember.

Someone sucked in a breath through tight lips and her eyes widened at what she saw. Three illuminators cast three different shadows that spread out from the criminals body in hooked, shriveled imitations of his posture. Each shadow rippled as the thrum of power to the illuminators mounted and the shadows began to rise off the floor like solid figures.

The criminal moaned, hunching over himself as his shadows grew longer and larger than he had ever been. No longer man shaped, the shadows were towers of black, each one a bit different from the other, but all three shared a reflective property.

It hurt to look so long at the shadows and Sakura felt her eyes begin to water. She wanted to look away, it was harder to stare at the sun, but she forced her face to stay pressed to the glass as she blinked the tears away. She noticed some of the scholars had equipped custom goggles for the viewing, while others squinted through their own naked lashes.

The shadows were speaking the mans secrets in a way only the inquisitors knew how to read. Inquisitors had their own spectacles of colored glass that they switched in and out between rose and green lenses, reading what Sakura could not. The lenses for the sacred science were expensive, and only the privileged could afford such a luxury if they were not already a part of the inquisition.

The humming whined down and the shadows melted back into the floor while the criminal sat sobbing. All around spectators began to mummer and whisper.

One of the scholars closes to her made a sound of annoyance with his teeth before removing his goggles. “Poor fool, that’s enough for a rope.”

“I couldn’t see, what was it?” the younger of the pair said, rubbing tears out of his eyes. They were red and blotchy, the same way Sakura expected hers to be.

“He’s a poor sap but he knew the wrong people. It was all years ago, but association with traitors is treachery itself. There is nothing more to be done for the man.”

“But…” the younger scholar was still rubbing his eyes. “The merchandise… did he steal it?”

“No, but that doesn’t matter. Now do you see why they must use so many illuminators? Without the third bulb his past would not have been seen.”

He went on to explain what each light had revealed based on the gems and geodes inside and where the memories and secrets left off but Sakura wasn’t listening anymore. She watched the floor down below where guards ran in to unhook the chains and drag the broken man away. Her father touched her shoulder and she left with him. It wasn’t until they were far away that he said anything.

“What did you think?”

She held out her hands and he lifted her into his arms, cradling her like she was tired, even though they both knew she was just acting spoiled. She had enough energy to lap their city two times over. “He looked so sad.”

“That’s what people look like when they know they’re going to die.”

“No, not like that.” Sakura buried her face in her father’s shoulder. “Like it hurt.”

He hummed, stroking the back of her head. Behind them a pair of elderly woman cooed at the sight they made. “Why would you think that, my gem?”

Sakura shook her head and buried her face deeper, refusing to say anything more. It would be a rare thing for her to ever speak on the subject again, and her feather never pressed her on it for the rest of his life. She hadn’t told him, but she knew what she had wanted to say that day, the words she had been too scared to speak out loud. That man looked like someone had violated him, stolen his insides and left him hollow. He looked empty, and it wasn’t a rare thing.

They called it Swelter’s Syndrome, after a Henry Swelter who suffered trauma and depression as a result of extensive sessions under the illuminators. Some people were fine after multiple interrogations, while others broke after only one bulb. Doctors needed a name for what they were dealing with. That was back before things got ugly, when people were allowed to feel sorry for human beings who happened to also be criminals. Back then they had said it was inhuman. Later on, the said it was necessary.

The ship lurched and Sakura heard the riggings go wild as hands scrambled to secure the ship in it’s final moments before docking into the sky harbor. Docking in general was difficult enough, but sky harbors were always a bit more challenging. Only the most experienced dared make the journey.

Another lurch told her the hooks had caught hold of the railing and was pulling them in. She had minutes before someone came down for her. She heard the wooden wheels and grimaced. Already they were unloading the walk-away planks.

The red bead was heavy in her hands, but not heavier than the memory of the man, hallowed and broken under the light of the illuminators. Her resolve settled and she felt it like the grip of a scimitar; something to hold onto.

She dropped the bead and twisted onto her side, her hands still tied behind her back. Her face was less than an inch off the floor. The bead was caught in a groove between floorboards, and with enough struggling, she managed to put herself in position to reach it with her teeth if she stretched her neck long enough.

“Someone, grab that blasted stowaway. Get her off my ship!”

The footsteps were more than just heavy, they were angry and they were drawing closer.

She reached out and caught the bead between her teeth and tasted it in her mouth before swallowing. It was enough to make her want to gag, and she choked as the bead slid down her esophagus, cold and metallic. She tasted what she thought were rotting oranges dipped in old mechanic’s oil. It wasn’t meant to taste pleasant.

It was seconds later when she felt the pull in her brain, followed by the heat and all the searing pain that one could imagine of a demolition crew crawling around in her skull. She gasped again, falling sideways onto the floor, face turned upwards as the world bled a stark white. She couldn’t see, but there were tears in her eyes as another wave of pain rolled over her.

The door overhead opened and she heard cursing. Someone was complaining about girls and their crying faces and all the trouble they would get into if the empire officials thought they mistreated a prisoner in their care, especially a woman with her privileged heritage. Not everyone was as highly valued as a woman with such pale skin, soft features, and lovely colored hair.

In parts of the world where red and rose colored hair made you a witch or something vile, the empire made no secret of showing its favoritism to the red, rose, and pale colored hair of its esteemed citizens. It made her perfect for what she wanted to do, what she set out to….

Her mind hit a wall and more pain made her cringe.

She had come to the city in the clouds for a purpose. She was there to…

The wall showed up again and she felt the vibrations of her collision shock her again. She whimpered in pain, frightened as well as wounded by something she couldn’t see or understand. There was something solid in her mind that kept her out. She couldn’t see what she wanted to. She couldn’t remember what she needed to.

She was there to…no. She needed to, it had been her job-mission-plan….to do something…

Then there was no wall, only emptiness, rotten oranges and motor oil in her throat. Motor oil always reminded her of the simple science, but dead fruit, rotten flowers and expired things that once had been so covetously pulled from the earth, always reminded her of the sacred sciences, the ones that did what others called magic.

Her throat was filled with the taste of dead things as the tattooed man hauled her off the floor, cursing and grumbling about how bad it looked for him. Sakura still cried, but it was a quiet crying. The pain was gone and she couldn’t remember why she would have cried in the first place. She couldn’t remember being sad. She couldn’t remember much of anything.

“So, what is the story with this one?” The younger of the two immigration officials asked, looking through the glass window into the room below.

The girl was still standing in the middle of it crying, even after the illuminator had powered down. The sight of her tears made him uneasy and he hoped she wouldn’t suffer anything lasting as a result of her exposure. It was rare for anyone to be so adversely affected from only one bulb, and her records were impeccably clean so she hadn’t ever been exposed before. Still, she was a young girl, and young girls can be easily frightened.

Edger huffed, tossing the goggles aside. “Ballet. She came to see the dancers preform at the Cygnet Dome.”

The gruff official rubbed the underside of his chin, scratching at the stubble he had meant to keep away. It made the curve of his waxed stash stand out all the more when he was, otherwise, clean shaven. When he noticed his partner linger he paused to chuckle. “I’ve seen it enough. She’s young, her parents probably spoiled her and this is the result; a sense of entitlement.”

“She has none.”

The older officer looked up, frowning. “What?”

“Both of her parents, the records say they are both deceased. Her mother died of Coil sixteen years ago. Her father…it says he was killed in a traffic accident last year. Trampled when a horse went wild. Nothing after that, no names, no relatives.”

“Beastly things.” Edgar touched his mustache again. “Fools should just use the motor cars if they can afford to keep horses in the city. The vanity of some people will be the death of us all.”

“She’s the age of legal consent. We don’t need a guardian’s permission, not that there was any way we could find one, so I’m going to draw up the paperwork for her fine. Will you prepare a cell room for her if she is unable to pay?”

“No need,” when the younger of the two guards gave his superior a look of confusion Edgar waved a hand dismissively. “You’ve been here only a month, Kiba, you wouldn’t know to recognize it, but she’s too well groomed to be poor.” He tapped the glass. “Her hands for one, and her clothing for another. In her memories she was a dancer, and only the affluent dance so well. She’s high born, a lady of some class. Even orphaned, I doubt she would be unable to pay our measly fine.” He then grinned at the rookie. “Take a good, long look now before she walks out of here, it might be the last you see of our pretty lady.”

Kiba shook the look away, glancing down at the floor below where she continued to shake, holding her shoulders. “I didn’t miss it, I noticed how well she walked when they brought her in. Also, the whale bone in her hair comb would be enough to cover her fine, but that doesn’t always mean we shouldn’t be prepared. I’m trying to do things by the book.”

“I know you are, but experience makes you better than the books. I’ll clean out a room, but it will be a waste of my time. Speaking of which, feel free to take yours. If the city watch comes by asking for help again we can at least say we’re doing something.”

Kiba wanted to wince, but knew what he was supposed to say. “If we can help we should.”

That had been prominently drilled into him before his graduation from the academy. A year ago he might have been tempted to lie around and take whatever shortcuts he could, but he was in uniform now, and the buttons were almost as heavy as the responsibility to live the life of an exemplary citizen. It had been a year since his sister left, but people still whispered. They would whisper less when they saw his uniform.

Edger rubbed the underside of his chin, muttering something about children and all the energy he didn’t have. He turned and started to walk away, but over his shoulder he called back to the younger partner. “If she offers you a bribe, you should take it. Sometimes her type don’t like leaving a record.”

Kiba nearly bristled. “That’s not something-.“

“Don’t tell me anything, I never saw this.” With a wave he was gone and Kiba doubted he would see the older guard again unless someone came looking for them.

Kiba rolled the papers back down and pulled a few new sheets off the wall before walking towards the release door. He didn’t mind walking a little faster to reach it, and thought it was only good manners to not keep the lady waiting any longer than she had been.

She looked up sharply when she heard the heavy door pull back. Her hands were still around her arms, but the shaking had stopped. She swallowed once and met his eyes. He wanted to look down. It always unnerved him when those with colored eyes stared into his. Most people looked like him, so it rarely mattered, but she wasn’t most people.

“You can come this way, you’re not being charges with espionage, so we can settle the stowaway matter at my desk.”

He meant it to sound light and teasing, but her shoulders didn’t ease and the hard edges of her gaze remained, so Kiba guessed he hadn’t been successful at putting her at ease. Of course, the more he wanted something the harder it was to obtain it.

Of course.

She followed him wordlessly to the offices towards the front. The others were in use by other officers working the paper heavy job of cataloging and processing information regarding transportation. His office was empty except for the papers littering his desk and spilling over onto his floor. I was a tad embarrassing, but he pretended it wasn’t as he pushed them away with the side of his foot.

“I apologize for the mess.”

She took a seat in front of the desk while Kiba moved to that the one on the opposite side. He pulled out the necessary forms and filled in the dates before turning them over. “I just need you to fill these out and they’ll go into your file. Once you’re able to pay the fine you’re free to go.”

She picked up on of the papers and narrowed her eyes at the writing that was already penned in. Kiba had written the date, but he had also written in her name, or the name they had on file for her. “You looked up my file.” It wasn’t a question but it made Kiba feel as uncomfortable as if it had been.

“It’s standard procedure. We also didn’t know if you were actually a minor or of age. You…looked so young. We had to make sure.”

She looked up, over the paper at him and his eyes went to the wall behind her head, avoiding her gaze. “How did you find my file so quickly?”

“It wasn’t’ quick, actually. You’ve been under the illuminator for almost an hour. It’s an older model, so it took a while to power up and the shadows came so slowly.” Kiba waved to the papers he had in front of him with all her records. He smiled, or tried to. “While my partner worked the machine I tracked you down. It was a group effort. I apologize for taking up so much of your time.”

“No, not at all. I should be the one apologizing for making so much trouble for others.” The girl with eyes as green as sea glass sighed.

“It happens to the best of us.” He offered her his pen. “And most stowaways are not so easy going. This is pleasant work.”

She hesitated a moment longer before taking his pen and signing in a careful hand at the bottom of the first page. She initialed in a few more places before pausing. Her eyes scanned the print as she read the terms of agreement. She pointed to a portion of the page made up of boxes.

“Do I have to fill these out if I am no longer a minor? I’m not being released into anyone’s custody.”

“No, but it is required to provide the name of someone we can contact to get in touch with if we need you again and can’t reach you. Do you have a relative, or a grandparents?”

She glanced to her file and he knew there was no one listed among her living relatives. Her lips were drawn tight before she answered, still not looking at his face. “No. I have a godmother, but she would be harder to reach than I would be, and I didn’t want her knowing I was here. That was the reason I didn’t buy an actual ticket.”

He recognized the thinness of her voice, remembering it well when he talked to the grieving woman who insisted they were fine after having to identify the bodies of loved ones. During his last year at the academy, his internship had him on the street and in the morgue, in two places he knew he wouldn’t be able to work in again.

Just like for those mothers, Kiba felt his sympathetic heart drop in his chest. He wanted to change how things were, wanted to fix what she felt, but knew better than to try or even let her know what he suspected. Like those woman, she was proud, and likely strong. It would be a sad thing to let her know what he thought, so he smiled again and nodded in what he hoped looked like sympathy.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Really, it’s only customary. You just need to fill out what you can. We’ll deal with the rest if it comes to that,” he said before pointing to another section of the papers. “My name is Kiba, you can write that down for the officer present for your debrief. Kiba Izuna.”

“You started to write my name but neglected to pen down yours?” she asked in a hum that might have been jovial if she didn’t sound so tired. She finally looked up at him and he tried to look away again, but her gaze was a trap. She had sea glass for eyes and he was as common as sand on a dirty beach.

Kiba swallowed, feeling his throat dry. “Are you thirsty at all?” He stood, his chair scratching across the floor. “There are refreshments as well. I’m going to go get a scone.”

He waited only a second to see her shake her head before he paced out of the room with his hands pinned to his sides, making a beeline for the recreational room meant for employees. He poured two cups of hot water from the tap in the wall and picked up a handful of tea bags before pausing.

If she was from a wealthy family she probably took her tea straight from the leaves the way aristocrats would. Would it be insulting to offer her tea from a silk bag? He didn’t know how to make tea any other way, there was never the time to waste on such things.

He didn’t want to be rude, but coming back with only refreshments for himself would be more than just awkward. Also, she looked tired. When was the last time she had eaten? She didn’t look well fed when the brought her in, and it wasn’t uncommon for stowaways to be neglected, even if they were high born citizens of the empire.

Deciding he’d rather be rude than neglectful, he took the tea bags and set a scone on each of the saucers before carrying them out. She was still on the same paper, reading all the fine print, when he came back into the room. He cleared a patch with his elbow before setting the saucers down on his desk and pulling the the bags from his pocket.

“I apologize if I overstep, I didn’t know which tea you would prefer and we don’t carry anything but bags.” He gestured to the scones. “It’s raspberry.”

Her eyes left the paper and shone before she reached out for the food. She hesitated before her finger could touch the glazed exterior and looked up at Kiba, who still stood awkwardly behind his desk. “Thank you.”

As he watched her eat, he felt better about his decision. He had been right in assuming she was hungry. She ate more like a person and less like a doll, the way he was used to seeing aristocrats eat. His sister had tried eating like that too, before she left. He remembered teasing her for all the tiny bites that never touched her lips.

Stiffly, he took his seat, pulling his tea closer to where he could more easily reach it from his chair. “Do you have someone who could escort you through the city? Imperium is not as large as our capital, but it is complex for the new and visiting.”

He watched as she licked the sugar from her lips and reached for a lemongrass tea bag. She ripped of the top off the paper wrapper and lowered the silk bag into her water, staining it with the color of melted sunlight. “No, there is no one.” She glanced up, through her lashes. “I had endeavored to be discrete about my escapades. My family and friends believed me to be in Blath, visiting school friends at the coast.” She jogged the tea bag in her water, swirling the color. “I didn’t want them to know I came here.”

“Your family?” Kiba wanted to pick up her file again. “I didn’t see a mention of them on your record.”

“It’s only my godmother and her sister in law. My parents…well, that should be in the file, shouldn’t it-what happened to them? ”

Kiba nodded, picking up his tea and blowing across the surface before taking a sip. “There wasn’t much more than that, however. Your file was simpler than most. Did you not attend a university?”

She hesitated and his heart seized up, wondering if his light conversation had rubbed her the wrong way. While he had been asked before and asked others the same question, he suspected it was different for someone like her. There wasn’t any shame in not attending university or school in general, but some families were stricter about tradition than others, and it wasn’t a secret that blue bloods made up the greatest percentage of university students. As often happened when he panicked, scenarios of the worst possible outcomes flickered to life in his mind. Maybe she had been unable to attend university after her father’s death. What if she had been sick? What if she had fought with her parents about it and-

“I did not attend university. I wanted to focus more of my time on the arts. Is there anything else that you found odd about my file?” She took the first, experimental sip of her tea and then another.

“N-No, no it wasn’t odd, I was just trying to make-um, er, no there’s not. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable.” He knew his cheeks were burning. His face was probably a flame with red. His uniform didn’t help any either. He felt so stuffy inside of it.

She waved him off and sighed her name at the bottom of another paper. When she turned it around Kiba recognized the section pertaining to the fine. “If my file isn’t under suspicion, then I think all I have left is the fine. Will this suffice?”

Kiba took the paper and felt equal parts relieved and disappointed when he saw it would. “Yes, this should be fine. I’ll take this part to the treasurer and then I’ll walk you out. Thank you for being so accommodating.”

He hesitated only on the threshold before power walking across the offices to where the secretary filed away checks and pay stubs for all the transactions in the immigration offices. Normally, these things would take a few minutes, but the day had been unexpectedly boring with little work, making the process all the faster.

It was one of the reasons so many of his co workers were anxious about the city guard coming in to ask for help on patrols. They were not allowed to refuse unless they had something else they could use to justify them needing to stay inside the immigration offices. And while it wasn’t difficult or particularly dangerous work, the city guards had a reputation that made others want to avoid their ranks. It was a part of the politics that made up their floating city.

“Shit,” the sectary hissed under his breath, digging into papers under his desk and pulling them up to make it look like he was working.

Kiba turned around and felt his gut clench. A pair of polished dull eyed guards stood in the doorway, looking around with hungry gazes. Kiba recognized only the shorter of the two as Ukon. The other was a male he had seen before but didn’t know the name of. Ukon was younger than most of the others, but he had been a guard for the city for years and held a measure of authority over other guards.

‘Speak of the devil and he shall appear.’

Kiba froze when he saw their eyes meet his. Inwardly he groaned. They had seen him and were now coming over. He had made a mistake, he should have kept his head down. Now they were coming to harass him when all he wanted to do was hide under a rock and pretend today never happened. Sure, he got to meet and see a stunningly attractive woman come through his department, but he also made himself a fool in front of her and drew the attention of one of his least favorite people ever. It was a nice thing to have met the beauty, but it didn’t even come close to making up for what he would have to endure with Ukon.

“Kiba,” the shorter officer hissed in delight. “So good to see you working faithfully for the crown. What is the nature of your work currently?”

Kiba inclined his head in their direction and schooled his features into a mask of indifference. “I am dealing with an immigrant. I still have work to be done here.”

Ukon didn’t look impressed, but leaned down over the counter with his arms crossed. “Do you now, how quaint. And your partner? Where might the old bearded man be?”

“He is seeing to the maintenance of the illuminators,” Kiba lied, hating how easy it had become. His partner was taking a nap somewhere, and the Illuminators weren’t due for a cleaning or maintenance for weeks, even with the extra use. “We have divided the work for greater efficiency,” Kiba recited in a monotone voice, knowing it was something that older officers like to hear.

Ukon looked behind Kiba, down the hall. “Is your Immigrant here, presently? Will he need an escort?”

“I don’t think so. The situation is being handled. If you are in need of the help, would you like me to post a bulletin requesting volunteers? I could have it up on the Bolts in ten minutes.

The Bolts were the ever changing, electronic bulletin boards made up of slides that flipped over and over to display newer, up to date information across the city. The Bolts with the blue boarders were for the official city use only, but privet companies used them to advertise in designated areas in different colors. The City Guard hated having their name on the Bolts, on account of how they believed it made them look like they couldn’t do their job without aid. Kiba was thankful he knew to ask them about it.

Ukon straightened, agitation clear across his features. “No, that will be all. If such a desperate need does arise for aid, you can be sure we will post it ourselves. Your reports are due at the end of the week, remember.”

Kiba nodded, not daring to breath easily until they had all left. Behind him, the male secretary forced himself to keep writing a report that had been finished hours ago. Kiba began to turn towards him with the sighed papers he needed processed. Uko and his men had already turned away, but were still within ear shot. “Before I can release her I need this cheque cleared,” Kiba said, bending low and holding out the paper.

Shino, looked over his spectacles and took the paper before pushing his chair to roll to the switchboard. He connected with the bank before adjusting his headset to fit. Kiba waited patiently as his friend read off the account numbers and transferred the monies. It was a few minutes later before the call could finish, but when Shino turned back, his expression was perplexed.

“What?” Kiba asked.

Shino stamped the check with a red PAID stamp before handing it back to Kiba. “The account had an information screen. It’s been a while since I’ve run into one of those. Who is it for?”

“Her name is Sakura.”

“Yeah, I saw that, but who is she? Not just anyone can have a screen put up over their account and few people would want to. It makes it that much harder to withdraw money.”

“Do you want me to ask her about it? I have her file.”

Shino narrowed his eyes behind his spectacles, pushing them up just slightly. “Was the file suspiciously thin?”

Kiba swallowed. “The information seemed accurate. I don’t think it was a ghost file. It had all the necessary components…” his voice trailed off as he remembered there was no mention of who her parents were, only their fates and basic information. She was a ward of an aunt and had adopted the older woman’s last name.

The way Kiba’s words trailed off made Shino’s frown deepen. “Don’t let her leave. Make up something if you can, but there’s something there that doesn’t sit right.”

Kiba picked up his heels and hurried back to where he had left her. Ukon’s visit had delayed him, but he doubted she would have done anything as silly as leave. And it wasn’t like she had any reason to run. They had used one of the Illuminators on her and seen the inside of her brain. She had nothing to hide.

Kiba stopped on the threshold of his office, jaw slack. Her seat was left empty along with the rest of the room.

“Shit.”

Sakura retched in an alley, hating how she was caught between hunger and nausea. She wanted to lie down and wallow, but she couldn’t. She had work to do...if only she could remember what...

#This is so old #Remember the TeaLion Express in Obelisk #this was the yellow lever #Jasper was almost an Obelisk chapter #This is from so long ago #Sakura meets up with the akatsuki #she's a rebel #of sorts #it was a cool idea #cool world #maybe one day I'll try it out again #Jasper #Obelisk #Sakura #Sakura Haruno #Kiba #Kiba izuna #my writing #mine

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