The summer heat felt like it roasted her bent neck, but the looks the other orphans sent her way scorched themselves deeper than the sun into Sakura's skin. She sat with the matron across from her at a low table in the shadow of the orphanage. The other children played barefooted on the yellow grass of the yard by kicking the can and dust at each other. Meanwhile, Sakura modeled a light blue and grey kimono and polished her handwriting and language skills.
She had not played with the others in a long while.
Taking a deep breath, she concentrated not to let the pen slip from her clammy fingers. They are jealous because she was special. The matron loved her. That alone was the best thing that could happen to a child here. Sakura had to stay in the woman's favor.
Cost what it may.
Sakura clenched her teeth and continued copying kanji after kanji from a page of the poetry book titled The Singer and the Samurai. She worked slowly, holding her breath before every stroke she drew. Immaculate and elegant. Sakura had to be careful not to make a mistake, especially because she was unfamiliar with the complicated language.
Finishing the last kanji, Sakura put down the pen, lifted the paper from the table with both hands and bowed, holding her work out towards the matron. She was a small woman with ash-blonde hair pulled back into a short braid, a plump nose, and a black mole on her forehead.
"I finished the assignment. I hope it will please you, Matron-sama."
The matron sliced a peach into pieces and turned her focus towards Sakura. She laid half of a peach and the knife she had used to cut the fruit down on a plate between them. The paper crackled and winkled as she snatched it off Sakura's gentle hold. The thick fingers smudged Sakura's work with sticky peach juice, but she would never dare to complain. Sakura squared her shoulders and rubbed her hands over her lap to eliminate the sweat. Almost immediately, the matron's eagle eyes spotted the motion, pinning the hands flat on her thighs into the proper position.
"Cease such unladylike habits, Doll," the matron chided harshly. The spit flew from her mouth everywhere. She put the paper down and picked up the peach again.
"Is adequate, Doll. You may eat a peach slice before you move to the next page."
The grey kimono collar itched on the back of Sakura's neck as she savored the flesh of the forbidden succulent fruit.
It was evening. Sakura and the matron were alone together in her room. She was the only child in the orphanage, enjoying the luxury of not having to share a room.
"There is an uneven number of children." One day, the matron had justified herself their way in front of Sakura. Even the dumbest kid could see through the lie.
Sakura sat on a chair as the matron stood behind it. The woman's fingers combed through her long, loose-hanging rose-colored hair. The golden candlelight enhanced its shine, making it look like a blazing sunset. Usually, Sakura savored the soothing sensations and the blooming feeling of safety and maternal love, but now she could not bring herself to enjoy it. In sharp contrast, she bit the inside of her cheek. Begging the matron to stop was out of the question.
"Does the cheek still hurt, Doll?"
Sakura shook her head slightly. A bandage covered half of her left cheek. An exaggeration it was, in Sakura's eyes. The wound had been a nick, shallower than a cat's claw.
For it, the matron had beat Jio's palms bloody with the disciplinary stick and left her to deal with the pain alone in the bathroom. No foot and no mattress tonight.
Jio was a year or so older than Sakura. Once upon a time, they had played together. Sakura found her the cutest of the other girls. With the inwardly peaked inner corner of her green eyes and fine bone structure, she resembled a cat. Cats are cute. Jio also excelled in befriending the stray cats in the neighborhood. She could make them do tricks. There was the rumor she could speak with them. The matron never gave her more than an annoyed grunt.
"Why do you always get the best foot?" Jio had confronted Sakura today. Sakura had been on her way to her place with her meal. It was meat day, and the matron gave Sakura the thickest pre-cut piece. On Jio's plate was only a sliver of meat. It was seethrogh. Sakura felt her hunger drop, but she had learned not to share her potions, or a punishment awaited her.
"We need to eat too," Jio pointed at the others, who stood around them, watching, judging and waiting.
Jio had put Sakura on the spot. "I do not distribute the potions." It sounded like and ultimately was a wimpy excuse. She knew.
Jin's face was red with anger, and the look in her eyes hurt Sakura.
"You stupid doll!" mocked Jin and pulled a disgusted face.
"I am not stupid." Sakura knew it was wrong. She was not delusional, but what could she do?
A gleam of feral light split Jin's green eyes. She pushed her plate into the arms of the nearest unsuspecting boy, surprising him, and launched herself at Sakura. Sakura sacrificed her plate by letting it drop and pulling her arms up to shield herself. She was too slow. As the plate shattered on the ground, and the meal slattered everywhere. Jun had wretched herself into Sakura's defense. Seizing Sakura's collar, Jun slapped her cheek hard, one of her outgrown nails drawing blood. The matron arrived on the scene a second later. All the children had to watch how the matron cleaned the fifteen-inch-long wooden stick of Jun's blood.
It was the first time something like that happened. It had been a sick display. It was Sakura's fault. As soon as the matron left, Sakura flung herself into her bed. She cried, muffling her wailes into the pillow. It was a fruitless endeavor. Her palm came down hard on the mattress. It stung a bit. The pain almost felt good. She was a fault. Stupid little doll with stupid pink hair. She sat up on her knees and punched, punched, and punched. The waves of pink hair flew around her head and became a wild mess. Every punch became more exhausting. Sakura slumped head-first into the pillow again. She stayed that way for a few seconds before she rolled to her side. No matter her effort, the horrible feelings stayed stuck to her like ink strains. Sakura felt the strings attached to her ankles, wrists, and neck. What should she do?
A while later, as everything was dark, stuffy, and quiet, Sakura decided to break a rule for the first time and left her room at night. She wanted to smell the scent of the night.
A strange need within her had grown too strong to ignore.