It had to be done. She really didn't have any choice. Despite his beautiful smile, despite his caring attitude, he wasn't the same. His eyes weren't black; his face wasn't pale. They weren't the same.

She would tell him that night. She had decided that hours ago. She didn't recognize the date, what it symbolized. She didn't know it was the anniversary of his departure, the one month anniversary of their first date. All she knew was that it was long enough.

So when she saw his face she didn't accept the joy in his eyes. It was the third time she saw such happiness. She didn't accept it though she knew it was there. Acknowledging it would make this impossible. She couldn't allow that.

He could see her fervent contemplation. The sadness tainted her eyes and face, casting a dark shadow. Immediately the joy left him, replaced by worry and a careful, caring emotion she couldn't find in anyone else but him. He bent his knees and placed a hand on each shoulder tentatively; her touch still overwhelmed him.

"Are you okay, Sakura-chan?" he asked softly, even his tone laden with emotion. Anyone observing this would have stifled a sob in their throat if they knew her thoughts. Had anyone but her known what she was to say they would have yelled for her stupid immaturity. She was so childish.

"I…I need to…" she said weakly, looking down again. His hands were blazingly hot on her flushed skin. She hated to admit it but she loved those hands. She loved those hands, those arms, that face and that smile. She loved the intensity he gave off when he embraced her. He was her own personal furnace, one she had denied but a very few times. After tonight she never would again.

Just because she needed to do it didn't mean she wanted to. But she had to release him. She knew he loved her; she knew and cherished that fact. 'He can't always love me. I can't let him love me. I can't let him suffer a one-sided love.' she thought sadly. A single tear broke from her emerald eyes. That was all he needed to see.

He burst through the open doorway, clinging to her tightly. He suffocated her. He intoxicated her. Another tear broke, followed by more. They landed onto his black silken shirt, one he had bought only for that night. That was not lost on her.

She grabbed him back, her fists wrapping themselves in bunches of his shirt. Her hands immediately got wet from her tears and he repositioned himself, allowing her to rest on him. He wasn't ready for what she would say. He never would be. Neither would she.

"I don't love you, Naruto! I can't! Get out of here!" she choked through her tears and his shirt. He collapsed. He fell forward, onto his knees, and he forced her forward. She somehow maintained her balance and stood. She fell against the wall after, not finding the strength to stand. Her dress protected her from the cold the wall possessed.

She watched him, watched him fall. She watched him fall unlike he ever had. She watched his eyes droop and water, his hands curling around the hem of his shirt. The rumble in his throat came out as he fell forward to all fours. Red engulfed him, peeling the flesh from him. By now he had almost lost all control, but somehow he maintained it. When his spine cracked and broke from the tension he collapsed, his breathing ragged as the fox calmed. The man didn't.

She couldn't imagine the pain that had put him through as he blubbered; she could hear the cracking of his bones from the distance. But she couldn't go to embrace him, she wouldn't. That would torture him even more than before. The cracking within him was loud but it didn't nearly cover the scream of why.

She didn't answer. If her lips opened she'd of drowned. The sounds he made were like he was drowning. She couldn't move. The guilt and shame kept her stuck to the wall. The lack of energy barely sustained her legs.

She had known it would be hard. She had known it would be terrible and miserable and painful. She hadn't expected this. It was too hard, too terrible and miserable and painful. But she had to continue.

She fell forward onto him. Her skin burned and sizzled as she touched him; the fox had not receded. The nerves of her upper-body died, his skin bubbling and pulsing putridly. Mumbles of "I'm sorry" streamed endlessly from her lips, forgetting her own torture and pain.