I was falling rapidly, but I did not fear my descent. I loved it, wanted it, craved it. The pressure against my whole being as I plummeted through the atmosphere, cutting through clouds and passing by birds.
It was not meant to end so graphically. There wasn't supposed to be an end at all. A dysfunctional parachute, a narrowing distance between myself and the earth. A narrowing distance to my end.
I was accepting, not willing, but accepting of my fate. I don't know when my eyes had closed, or when my time had ended. All I know now is displacement.
I was... Confused when I first came aware. I was detained within myself. any attempt to move, to see, was prevented. For a long time afterwards I believed I was dead. Confined to a bed, confined to my mind. Left to be driven insane whilst I listened to my thoughts.
That was until I had started picking up  muddled sounds. My desperation for something outside of myself left me straining with all my will to make out sounds, to hear clearly. Muddled sounds which once were written off as white noise turned into leaves rustling from the breeze. Turned into the occasional footsteps and mumbles of people.
To the repetitive sound of crying, to the muddled voices of people speaking. They we're a constant I clinged to. These criers and Chatters. I could faintly recognize two of the voices as time went on. They visited often, speaking to an unresponsive girl who could not even hear them clearly.
I had wished to know who they are. The people who spent long periods of time speaking to her constantly. Were they workers? Was it people I know? With a new motive, I had started fighting with fevor. I struggled against the limits, for a single movement, a feeling, for clarity. Pushing and fighting endlessly, for what felt like decades in the void within myself, I gained something.
the feeling of Fingertips brushing lightly across my forehead, the weight of arms across my torso, or the regular hands gripping hers, holding tightly as if she would fade away.
I took comfort in those feelings, feelings I had cherished. I cherished the thought of someone caring for me to the point they would sit there hold my hand and reciting words upon words.
These cherished ideals led me to push on, to hear, see, move, or do anything clearly. I had regretted these actions briefly.
Clarity of my hearing was overstimulating. Every movement, every sound, was amplified greater than what I had ever dealt with before. But while that was annoying, I was more startled by my visitors.
"...Sakura-chan!"
"...Sakura..."
"...Haruno-san..."
"...Haruno Sakura..."
They address me as someone else. A name I recognized quickly, along with voices who sound so uncannily similar to their voice actors, yet different at the same time.
It took time until I had fully accepted my new fate. My new situation. From the denial stage to illogical thoughts, I had conceded to the change. I was now in her body, Haruno Sakura.