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This diary entry is written by ‹***そら***のあなたはだいき›. ( View all entries )
 
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~Cherry Blossom Snow~~~SanCategory: (general)
Tuesday, 1 June 2010
04:02:15 AM (GMT)
Chapter Three:: Couldy Day:: Part One





I dunno. I think out mornings gonice and easy. And I say that with such
malice.

'The fuck does that have to do with anything?'

I don't really know. I didn't get much sleep. Never do.

'Ugh. You're stupid. Just get back to your idiot fucking friends.'

Don't gotta be a dick about it.


It was late morning-- around eleven a.m. The pillowy, periwinkle sky held in its
grasp tufts of cottony dark clouds. And birds scarcely flew overhead; I wouldn't fly
over this place eitherr. It's a fucking crap excuse for a prison. Plus, they're
probably too scared to fly over anyways.

Every 'Limit' had been let out into the yards at nine, right after breakfast. Even us
'Dogs' were let out. They all sprint from one side of the worn black-top to the
other, trying to work up enough lower body strength to be one of those ninja dudes 
and leap over the fence or scale the walls. Some occasionally trip and seriously
injure themselves on the rough asphalt. Some sit up against the walls and watch,
amused by it all or just talking to each other, trying to come up with a way to
escape. Others walk around aimlessly, bored out of their minds.

I, on the other hand, am sitting up against the ugly, prickly white wall of the
building the 'Dogs' are housed in, in the shade, accompanied by two others. A girl
and a boy. My two best friends...

The boy had sunset auburn hair- you know, the beautiful clash of blood and flame?
Yeah, that kind- that was relatively short and messy. It was like Sasori's but
less...ew. And he had eyes the color of a delicate sea foam at noon-time. Just and
inch or so above his left eye rests a blood red kanji that means 'love'. He has those
cute pudgy cheeks, like a chipmunk. And he has no eyebrows... But even so...he's so
cute...and pretty damn badass.

My female companion has a sweet but sarcastic face- heart-shaped with that
little...edge- that's framed by layered, shoulder-length albino hair with a purple
under layer. She has oober cool hair... And her eyes are lime green and ice blue. The
intensities depend on her physical health or her mood. Her eyes are pretty fucking
cool too. >.<

They wore the traditional prison uniform; a plain white t-shirt with gray sweatpants.
But theirs (and mine) were different from all the other 'Limits' uniforms. On the hem
of the shirt was a piece of colored cloth pinned into place. And on that cloth was a
number, a gender, a name, a list of abilities, a danger level, and a cell number. Not
neccesarily in that order.

Name: Kusanagi Yuki-Lynn  Inmate #[/u6884-02
Danger Level: 9-10  Cell #4-46  Sex: F
Abilities:[/u Transformation, distinct techniques through eye-contact,
elemental manipulation

Her cloth was sky blue, whereas the text was green. That resembles her eyes. o.O

Name: Sabaku no Gaara  Inmate #6881-07
Danger Level:[/u 9  Cell#4-50 Sex: M
Abilities: aggressive manipulation of sand, jinchuuriki.

His cloth was obviously red with sea green text. Um...

It's weird how the people running this hell-hole do that, determine the cloth and
text colors by going off the hair and eye colors. That's so weird. Maybe they're
losers. Or they're just stupid. >.<

Name: Chiyoye Amaya  Inmate #6882-07
Danger Level: 9-10  Cell #4-51  Sex: F
Abilities: distinct techniques through eye contact, elemental
manipulation, movement prediction, jinchuuriki.

And mine was purple with lavender text.

My eyes aren't lavender, by the way. They're dark purple and sometimes they glow red.
And my isn't just any normal purple, dammit. It's a medium-length, oober layered,
slightly spikey, dark purple with some black chunks. So ha. My hair is awesome. >.<

Sheesh. These people need to get it right. 


A pale hand waved and twirled in front of my face, a bit close, bringing me back from
my observations. The hand was so pale that it was almost discolored. Gaara's hand. It
kept swishing around, grains of his special desert sand swirling along side it. The
action seemed so innocent at first.

A flick of his wrist and that fucking sand took a nose-dive towards and down my
shirt, forcing me to squirm. I jumped up to my feet, the sand tickling my stomach and
trickling off my boobies. (XD) Rushing my hands up my shirt to clear it of sand, I
made a grab for the hem. After deciding that I was undoubtedly going to get nowhere
by struggling, I whipped around to glare at Mr. Sabaku no Gaara.

And the slithering sand stopped making my skin crawl and inched back to him as
hishand dropped heavily beside him, returning my disturbed stare. Our little glaring
contest only intensified.

In all the yeas that we've been here, his hair had grown from really short to a mop
of red. No dullness. No ew-ness. Not entirely like Sasori's. And his personality had
changed considerably. Some gestures and mannerisms had developed and were painfully
cute, playful, and intimate, whilst others had remained cold, angry, and distanced.
That might never change. There will always be some part of him that's stuck in a
defensive phase. I mean, after all that trauma... Anyways, he's certainly more
different then when I first met him. He's always looking out for me and Yuki, always
just trying to be calm and sweet-- at least, to me anyways.

On with the glares.

"Ass... Why'd you do that?" It's pretty obvious. Sexual tension... >.> But I still
thought I'd ask. I'm usually quiet, but I think this can be an exception.

The redheaded friend of mine shifted his weight and pushed himself up to stand
toe-to-toe with me. So he wants a fight? Okay. Bring it. I'm not scared... He had a
murderous look on his face. Meh... Bring it. But his expression softened slightly, no
reply, and he stepped passed me.

He's mad at me. That much is obvious. I grimaced before zipping around to chase after
him. Only...all I saw was the other 'Limits' practicing their abilities.

So he left me?

'Obviously.'

Shut up. Nobody asked for your unimportant fucking opinion.

'Fuck you, bitch.'

I don't know how you have the balls to be a hypocrit and call ME the bitch when
YOUR the five-tailed fucking wolf.

'Just wait till I'm released. I'll fucking kill you!

Ha! You could try.


So he was gone. For someone so emotionless and calm, he sure was dramatic.

A soft tap on my shoulder. Very soft, almost non-existant. Iknow whose it was. Her
feathery sent and touch could be recognized immediately, if you payed attention to
things like that. e.e

I slowly turned around to face the sweetly-sarcastic face of Yuki. She had a somewhat
serious expression gracing her features. I wonder... "Yes, Yuki?" came my quiet
demand.

"I know where he went." That raspy voice of hers didn't belong. It never ceases to
amaze me. How could someone so pretty have such an injured voice?

Giving her a quick glance, hoping that she'd get it and tell me where my life-long
friend went. Then I realized that she wasn't very observant with things like that. So
I took another course of action. Grabbing her hand and dragging her out into the sea
of 'Limits', I impatiently commanded, "Take me to where he is then."

Now that I think about it, Gaara's been doing this a lot lately. Leaving. I don't
exactly have the guts to ask him why, mainly because I don't want him to get mad. I
hate it when he's mad at me...

Even though he storms off without a word, leaving me alone or with Yuki... I won't
ask him why and I... try not to eveer show that I care about what he does unless he
touches me. I don't care if hugs or kissesme, 'cause I'll kiss or hug him right back.
But they donn't usually mean anything to him, so why should it matter? And there are
those occasional caresses-- on my cheek, little twirls on my arm, deliberate swishes
on me hips and sides. I often have to stop and think about that. Ask myself why.
Maybe they're just absent-minded gestures?

Should I ask about those? No. He'll just get mad... Or will he?

I fellt a harsh tug, the tables of control turning. Glancing around, completely
confused, I saw the 'Limits' backing away as I was being led to this place of
Gaara's. They all glared at me with the utmost fear and hate and disgust, frightened
snarls creeping onto their ugly faces. A small whisper broke the silence. Just one
single word seemed to trigger a wave of hateful shouts, each accompanied by a fucking
stone made of cement or black-top pieces.

Before I could fully understand what was happening, a rough and jagged chunk of the
black-top bit deeply into my shoulder blade, shredding off bits and pieces of skin.

I guess it's a good thing I taught myself not to feel pain. And isn't this situation
a bit...I dunno, familiar?

'These people must REALLY fucking hate you.'

Gee, you think?!

Comments 
Chris567 says:   1 June 2010   340033  
OMG PART 2. I'm gonna read right now.
‹***そら***のあなたはだいき› says :   1 June 2010   657466  
Lol. XD
 
 
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