The strange dreams start when Sakura turns twelve. She's just starting sixth grade, so her homework load has just begun to tower over her, dominating her uneventful life. Sakura has always been a good student, and an overachiever at that, so she throws herself into her studies with enthusiasm… at first.

She hadn't expected the dreams to begin-although in her defense no twelve-year-old expects to be plagued by nightmares of violence and horror at the beginning of their middle school career. And it is one such dream that sends her dashing from her own room, into the safety of the light and down the stairs of her home.

"Sakura, dear, what's wrong?" her mother asks. Sakura stops at the bottoms of the steps, and wipes the tears away from her face. Her mother is sitting at the dining room table, pen in hand and hovering over a newspaper article.

"I… had a nightmare," Sakura admits shamefully. She folds her arms across her chest, and suddenly realizes how stupid she's being. She's twelve. She doesn't need to run to her parents for every bit of discomfort she has. She turns, about to retreat back to her room, but a click sounds behind her as her mother sets down her pen.

"Are you alright, sweetie? Come here," her mother says soothingly. For all of her earlier mortification Sakura doesn't hesitate to throw herself into her mother's embrace, and without warning her tears threaten to return. Her eyes water uncontrollably. Her body trembles.

"Oh, no," her mother coos. "It's alright, Sakura, I promise. Just a dream. Would you like to talk about it?"

Sakura shakes her head mutely. Her mother sighs.

"It might feel better if you let it out right now. No good thing comes from holding in such bad thoughts," her mother presses gently. Sakura shudders.

"I… it was terrible," she whispers. "It was dark, and I couldn't move. And there was—there was an evil feel in the air. Some sort of monster…"

Her mother squeezes her tightly and smiles.

"Well, it's all over now," she reassures. "You're awake, and you won't have to deal with it ever again."

Sakura takes a deep breath.

"You're right, Mom," she says shakily. "I'm fine now, I promise. Thanks." She gives her mother an admittedly weak smile, but her mother doesn't seem to notice Sakura's lingering nervousness.

"Good, sweetheart, I'm glad," she says. "Now, get to bed. Don't you have a quiz tomorrow?"

Sakura nods, and heads for the stairs again. She pauses just before reaching them.

"Mom," she says, "I love you."

"Love you too, Sakura," her mother tells her fondly. "Sleep well, alright? If you have another dream you can always talk to me about it, or your father. Sound okay?"

"Okay," Sakura breathes slowly. Her small hand is still shaking ever-so-slightly as she returns to her room. She ignores it. She's never had nightmares before, this is probably a one-time thing. Perhaps she'd eaten something strange earlier in the day.

She climbs back into bed and slides beneath the sheets, curling up into a little ball and relaxing at the warmth that surrounds her.

Sleep is easy to obtain—she's tired, and her mother has successfully gotten rid of her worries. Her eyes close, and she's asleep before she can even think about dreams again.

She dreams anyway, the same as before. She stands in darkness, rooted in place. A low growl sounds from behind her.

"Who's there?" she shouts into the dark, but no one answers her, and the growls suddenly stop.

The silence is almost more terrifying than the monster had been.

Before her panic can grow to unmanageable levels, light slowly begins to fill the area. Sakura squints against it, tries to turn her head, but she is still immobilized. This hadn't happened before, but she isn't waking up this time like she had previously.

A form eventually takes shape in front of her. She wants to turn around, to run, because who knows what kind of beast is responsible for those horrifying sounds—but when it comes completely into view she is surprised to see another human instead of something otherworldly.

He is young, probably her age, with a mop of bright yellow hair and sitting cross-legged on the floor. He's wearing dark clothing, and it doesn't fit him right—he's all but drowning in the shirt.

"Oh," she says. She doesn't mean to speak at all, but he jerks as if stung and swings his head until he's looking directly at her.

"Oh," he echoes back, and then there is a moment of silence where they stare at each other in shock.

"You can see me?" Sakura blurts out, and at the same time he leaps to leaps to his feet with an explosive, "How did you get in here?"

They blink at each other again, and the boy steps forwards.

"I haven't seen another person in weeks!" he crows. "And you're a girl, too, not one of those stupid scientists!" He grins.

"Um," Sakura says. The boy doesn't pause.

"I don't suppose you brought me any ramen, did you? They never let me have any. Which should be illegal!" He takes another step, trying to shift closer to her, and something clinks down near his feet. For the first time since the dream began Sakura can move, and she tilts her head to look down for the source of the noise.

There is a shackle wrapped around the boy's right ankle. It's thicker than her forearm, and the surrounding skin is bright red, irritated from what must be years of rubbing against the metal. She doesn't want to imagine what the skin (if there is any remaining skin) underneath the chain looks like. It connects him to a link in the wall behind him, and he has some slack, but not much.

Sakura realizes that they're in a cell.

"Where… where are we?" she asks faintly. The boy shrugs nonchalantly.

"Beats me," he says. "I've been here for longer than I can remember. Don't have a clue. But now you're here, so unless you're with them, you can talk with me, right? They don't ever want to talk to me unless they're experimenting."

As he speaks, he stretches, and Sakura gets a brief glance at his stomach and lower ribs. He's terribly skinny. Whoever these scientists are, they aren't feeding him.

"I…" she begins slowly, because she honestly has no clue what to say—but suddenly a click sounds from behind her, as if a lock has just been turned.

The boy's face pales instantly, and he shrinks back, smile slipping off of his face to be replaced by an expression of terror.

"You need to go away," he whispers. It takes Sakura a moment to realize he's talking to her. "Go away now, and don't come back."

She frowns at his sudden change in demeanor.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asks nervously. He really doesn't look too good. There's another click from behind her, louder this time. The boy actually flinches.

"Please," he says. "You don't look like you're with them. I dunno how you got here, but you can't let them catch you. They'll do bad things to you if they do."

She shivers at his words. His eyes are haunted, dull in anticipation of pain. He looks like a puppet with cut strings, limp and lifeless. There's not a bone of hope in his whole body.

"Wait—" she tries to say, but the boy turns to her, eyes wide and horrified.

"Run!" he hisses, and to Sakura's horror, the image begins to disintegrate around her. She cries out, but the boy doesn't hear it, and even as she watches the image gets darker and darker until all she can see is darkness once more. The growl returns, growing louder and louder and LOUDER—

Sakura wakes up with a gasp, sitting up and all but throwing the sheets off. She's panting hard, and her head pounds every time she even twitches.

"Wha-" she croaks, mouth dry, and glances at her bedside clock.

It is 7:14. In one minute her alarm will go off, and it will be time to get ready for school.

She'd gone to bed nine hours ago, but it doesn't feel like she's gotten a wink of sleep.

The alarm goes off. Sakura groans and reaches for it, hitting the off button much harder than she'd intended to and wincing at the thunk it makes.

That… had been strange.

But just a dream, like her mother had said. It was just a dream. Her is was starting to play tricks on her. It's probably just stress, that's all. Sakura gets out of bed slowly.

She gives herself a shake and firmly pushes the strange dream to the back of her mind. She has other things to worry about, after all: it's time to go to school.

Her mother greets her at the door when she returns, offering her a freshly baked roll. Sakura accepts it wearily as she lets her backpack drop to the floor and removes her shoes. The sounds of the schoolbus driving away fades as she closes the door behind her.

"Hi, sweetie," her mother says. "How was school today? Did you do well on your quiz?"

"Yeah, of course, Mom," Sakura says, deciding to leave out the tiny detail that she had nearly dozed off during said quiz and received several dirty looks from Iruka-sensei. "I'm pretty sure I did fine. There was only one question at the end that was a little troublesome, but I know I did well on all the rest."

"Excellent work!" her mother says. "I'm so proud of you, Sakura!"

"Is Sakura home from school?" her father booms from another room, and Sakura smiles.

"Yes, Dad, I'm home!" she calls out. Her dad lumbers into the room. He's a tall man, with broad shoulders, but his hug is gentle and warm. Sakura relaxes into his hold.

"I hear you're doing well in your classes, what a surprise!" he teases. She giggles when he ruffles her hair. "Keep doing your best, okay? You're doing so well! If you study hard, eat well, and get plenty of sleep, nothing can stop you!"

Sakura stiffens in his hold, because she'd been able to forget about her strange dream for the majority of the school day, but suddenly her father has reminded her. She sighs. Better to do this now than to wait until later. Sakura isn't a fan of procrastination.

"I've been having weird dreams, Dad," she tells him softly. Her mother hums in surprise.

"Another, dear? Why didn't you tell us sooner?"

"Ah, it's no big deal," Sakura tells them. "I don't want to worry you. It's probably nothing."

Her father frowns.

"If they keep bothering you after tonight I want you to tell me," he says. "Are you alright for now?" The concern in his voice is comforting. Sakura smiles at him.

"Fine, Dad. I'm sure it won't happen again, there's no need to worry."

She is very, very wrong.

She dreams that night again, but there are no ferocious growls that echo through the dark. This time the inky blackness is filled with the sharp sounds of skin on skin, and a voice crying out, begging for forgiveness, for mercy, for anything but more pain.

The voice receives no answer, except for harder blows that echo through the empty space around her.

When the horrific sounds finally stop, light begins to filter in, just as before. Sakura keeps her eyes open, watching for the blond boy she had seen last time—except instead of being in a cell, she is in a room not unlike her own, dimly lit by moonlight and very clean—almost to the point that it seems military in decoration. There is a bed in the far corner across from her, and underneath the blankets a lump shivers and twitches silently.

Sakura hesitates, but she can't move, so she does the only thing she can.

"Hello?"

The lump jumps at her voice, and then doesn't move for a long moment.

"Um," Sakura says again. The lump finally jerks, rustling the blankets, and eyes peer out from underneath the sheets. She squeaks in terror, because for a moment the eyes look red—blood red. But then she blinks, and they are black. She isn't sure if she'd imagined it or not.

"Who are you?" the lump says. It's a male voice, young as well. Sakura blinks—she's never been asked that in a dream before.

"I'm Sakura," she answers. The lump regards her cautiously before the blanket is thrown back, and Sakura finally gets a glimpse of the boy.

He is taller than her, with dark eyes and light skin. His hair is black, and it sticks out in the back. It reminds her of a duck, and she almost giggles, until she notices his other defining features.

He's covered in scars. Lots of them. Bruises, too—they cover his arms, most of his bare chest. There is one taking up the majority of his left cheek.

She gasps in shock, and his stare suddenly turns sour.

"What are you looking at?" he growls. "You annoying little—" he breaks off, suddenly blinking and narrowing his eyes. "Wait… who are you? What are you doing here? How did you get up?" He sends a fearful glance towards the door on Sakura's right.

"What do you mean?" Sakura says. "I don't even know how I got here. Do you?"

"Why would I ask you if I already knew?" he snarls, leaning forwards. A mistake, because he suddenly winces, hands straying towards a large bruise on his ribcage.

"Are you alright?" Sakura asks, voice rising in momentary panic. She moves forwards, holds out a hand to help, and lets out a small shriek of surprise when her arm goes right through his chest.

His eyes widen, but he puts a finger to his lips as she reels back in shock.

"Shut up, idiot," he whispers fiercely. "He'll hear you."

"Who?" Sakura asks, and then gasps again as he reaches out to touch her. His hand goes right through her forehead.

"Are you a ghost?" he mutters. "Here to haunt me?"

"No," Sakura says hesitantly. "At least, I don't think so? I was alive last time I checked."

He snorts.

"You sure? This doesn't really seem like something that would happen if you were alive." He waves his hands through her again, and this time she does feel something—a slight tingling where he passes through, but nothing more.

"Weird," he murmurs. She lifts a hand and stares at it. There is some level of transparency to it, one she hadn't noticed last time she'd dreamed like this. When she had seen the blond boy.

"Ah, I don't really know what's going on," she tells the new boy. "This has happened before, but I didn't realize I was…" She waves her hand vaguely, but he seems to understand.

"A ghost?" he says dryly. "Right, right. Of course this would be something normal for you. Maybe he hit me in the head too hard again. I'm probably going crazy."

"If you're crazy, then I'm crazy too," Sakura tells him determinedly, but that doesn't seem to comfort him at all. He lowers himself gingerly back onto the bed, wincing, and throws a hand over his face. Sakura hovers nearby, unsure of how to proceed.

"So…" she tries, and he sighs heavily.

"What are the chances that you'll go away in a few minutes and leave me with my peace and quiet?" he says. "I don't want to deal with this right now."

A door slams somewhere in the house, and footsteps stomp across hardwood floor. The boy bolts upright, eyes wide.

"Crap," he spits out. The sudden fear in his tone reminds Sakura of the blond boy, for a moment, and it scares her.

"Hide," the boy hisses, and she tries to obey, but she's frozen in place. Just like before the picture begins to fade, darkness overcoming her vision, and the last thing she sees before it goes completely black is the boy's door being flung open, and a towering figure standing in the doorway—

She is exhausted at school the next morning. Ino keeps shooting her worried glances, and even Iruka-sensei approaches her.

"Sakura-chan," he greets. "You've been very distracted in class for the past few days. Is everything alright?" His voice is warm and full of honest concern. Sakura offers him a smile.

"Everything is fine, sensei," she says. "I've been having a hard time sleeping lately, that's all. I'm sure it will pass soon, and I'll be back to normal."

Lies. All lies. She has been getting sleep. But each time she dreams she wakes up and feels like she hasn't gotten any rest at all. And at this rate, it doesn't seem like it will pass soon.

Iruka smiles at her.

"Get some rest, Sakura," he instructs her softly. "Feel better soon, alright?"

"Yes, sensei!" Sakura replies.

If only it were that easy.

She dreams again. It's been a couple days, and she had thought it was all over, but when she least expects it she finds herself standing in darkness for the third time. But in this dream, it is completely silent.

Dead silent.

When the light floods her vision she the first thing she sees is a lithe masculine figure, standing with his back to her. They are in a room lit by a single lamp, and there is a dark fireplace in the wall. She takes a deep breath and steels herself.

"Hello," she says, voice full of feigned confidence, and then she yelps in shock as he turns faster than her eyes can follow and throws a long knife into the space between her eyes.

The weapon passes right through her. That doesn't mean Sakura is unaffected, and she's still shaking as the figure opposite her straightens and she finally gets a good look at his face.

He has extremely pale skin—almost white, and inky black hair that's cropped shorter than both of her other dream subjects. His outfit is skintight, and his entire stomach is revealed by the crop-top he is wearing. A sword of all things is strapped to his back, and it looks like he knows how to use it, if the way it's suddenly positioned at Sakura's throat is of any indication.

She hadn't even seen him move.

"How did you get in here?" he asks. His eyes, his face—if he hadn't been moving, Sakura would have suspected him to be dead. There is no emotion whatsoever in his expression, and Sakura flinches, going completely still.

She isn't completely immobilized in this particular dream for some reason. She isn't sure why.

This new dream is dangerous, she knows. This boy could kill her—definitely would, if she was really there. But she is not, and to prove it she narrows her eyes and walks right into his sword. The satisfaction she feels at the flicker of surprise on his face when her throat isn't slit is childish, but she doesn't care.

"Are you a test?" the boy says evenly. "Did Danzo send you?"

Sakura doesn't know who Danzo is, so she shakes her head.

"I just appeared here," she says truthfully. "I don't know how, or why. You might not even be real."

He tilts his head and sheaths his sword slowly.

"Maybe you're the one who isn't real," he says. His metaphorical mask has returned, and his face is completely blank once again. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave. You are not welcome here."

Sakura feels a surge of indignation. None of the others had treated her like that.

"I would leave if I knew how," she informs him bluntly. "But I don't, so you're stuck with me until I disappear."

He is unfazed by her words and nods once, turning again and striding to the table he had been at when she had first arrived. He turns his head as he walks, pointedly ignoring her.

Against every instinct she has, she follows him.

The table is stocked with knives and other assorted weaponry—some Sakura can't even name. The boy runs his hands lightly over blades and handles, eyes narrowed in concentration.

She can't help herself.

"What are you doing?" she asks. He opens his eyes and glances at her as if unsure if he should answer or not, and then blinks.

"I am choosing the best weapons to take with me on my next mission," he informs her. "I do not know the mission parameters, and therefore I must be prepared for any sort of issue that could occur."

"What kind of mission?" Sakura blurts out, and then winces because she isn't sure she wants to know the answer. The boy gives her a long look.

"I'm going to kill someone," he answers flatly. Her breath catches in her throat at the casual way he says it, like "I'm going to do my homework", or "I'm going to go to the park". She takes a step back, but the boy isn't even looking at her anymore, instead picking up a wicked looking dagger and weighing it in his hand.

"What? Why would you—?" she cries out, and he doesn't even move.

"That is most likely what my orders will say," he says. She shakes her head in denial.

"Why would you want to kill someone?" she whispers. "That's just…"

He turns to look at her again, this time testing the edge of a tanto against a fingertip. A tiny bead of bright red blood drips to the floor.

"I don't want anything," he says. "I will do what Lord Danzo orders."

Sakura gapes at him, and suddenly the boy straightens, sheathing the tanto and hooking it to his belt.

"It's time," he says. "Will you accompany me, I wonder?"

He steps towards the door, and Sakura doesn't try to follow him. It's useless anyway, because she can feel the dream starting to dissolve, breaking down the scene and leaving her in darkness once more.

"Have you had any of those dreams recently, Sakura?" her mother asks. It is Saturday, and they are eating lunch at the table. Sakura's father peers at her curiously, and Sakura frowns—she'd just stuffed her mouth full of rice.

She thinks of the blond boy, trapped in a cell with a shackle keeping him chained to the wall. She thinks of the boy with the bruises, wincing with every movement and cowering from a dark and menacing figure. She pictures the pale assassin, with dead eyes and dead lips and a sword across his back.

She remembers them, and she makes a decision.

"No, Mom, I haven't," she says, beaming cheerfully at her parents. "They've gone completely away!"

"Oh, how wonderful!" her mother says.

Sakura wonders why she had felt the impulse to lie, because it can't mean anything good.

A/N: Just a fun little idea I had. Naruto has been inspiring me lately, what can I say? I already have a few chapters of this written, but school starts back up soon, so I'm not sure when I'll be able to put them up because they still need to be edited.

The title of this work comes from a beautiful song called "Only in Sleep", written by Eriks Esenvalds, and the lyrics of the song are from a poem written by Sara Teasdale. Both are beautiful works of art, please check them out if you're interested!

If you enjoyed it, please leave a review or a favorite! Thank you for your continued support! Any requests or questions? Please feel free to contact me via PMs!

-Meridianpony