I remember talking to Naruto. I feeling his angst seep through every pore of his skin, and into my mind as I slowly closed my eyes, to what we both thought was my death. I remember everything going black, and a feeling of cold engulf my body.
I was unconscious.
I remember something heavy laying on my chest. I remember feeling the vibrations flow through my body as someone shook my frame with her immense tears. I remember trying to breath but not being able to because of her weight on my lungs. I slowly opened my eyes.
Her beautiful long pink hair was cascading down her back.
I remember slightly being confused at why all the sudden her hair was beautiful. Sakura wasn't beautiful. She was annoying.
Words came out of my mouth. She looked up, wide eyed, tears coming down in gushing rivers. For a split second she looked at me, before her arms were around me, holding me.
Her small frame shook against mine. Her tears slowly fell on to my clothing. Her fingers traveled through my hair as she gushed at how worried she was.
It was surprising. I did not expect her to be so upset about my death. She wasn't like any other fan girl. She cared about me. I could tell by the way she gingerly held my injured body. I could tell by the way she stroked my hair. I could tell by how hard she cried. This girl's emotions toward me were not based on fleeting childish feelings. They were real. They were solid.
She loved me.
I was confused. My brain was telling me to push her off me. To tell her to go away. To become cold, reserved and resentful. But something else, something stronger, told me not to. To let her hold me, and cry against me. To, for once, let my guard down.
And so I sat there, with her body against mine, her fingers in my hair, she tears splashing on my shirt. I sat there and let my guard down.
I remember this as I look down at her sleeping form. Her perfect pink lips are slightly parted. Her breathing is shallow. Her skin is perfect in the moonlight. She is snuggled to my chest, her body pressed against mine. All that separates us is the thin material of her elegant night gown; it's pale pink coloring only making her look more, and more like an angel.
My arms are wrapped around her, and she snuggles in deeper.
I have never felt so at peace. I have never let my guard down so much for a person. I have never loved another as I love the slumbering girl in my arms.
She was worth everything I had gone through.
She was worth finally being free.