A/N:

'Lo! I haven't updated or posted anything for a while... myehh. Been busy. School and stuff. I've also been doing some beta work for both a friend (who's also managed to wrestle me into co-writing multiple things which I also beta for) and a user on this site. And, there's also the whole "I-have-a-life" bit. Truth be told, if I had all the time in the world, I'd spend it writing. But I don't, sadly. And I've been distracted. Which means I've gotten a bit behind in beta-ing. I hope no one gets mad at me! :O My co-writer will get revenge by forcing the fluff on me... she knows how to torture, I'll give her that.

Anyway, on to the important stuff!

NaruHina FTW. If Kishimoto (who, incidentally, owns Naruto) doesn't give us NaruHina when Naruto finally ends, I'll convert to the Harry Potter fandom. I swear.

This is just meaningless angsty fluff crap. I suggest reading if your bored.

Warning: character death, mentions of blood (I don't know how to warn for gore.. honestly, until I start naming the body parts being thrown onto the floor and what color and general squishy-ness they are, I don't feel the need to warn for blood. I've been told I'm insensitive, though, so I figure it's better to be on the safe side for those who prefer not to read descriptions of disembowlment)

This is a oneshot and will not be continued because, well, it's just a oneshot. No plot at all to speak of, no dialogue. It's blah.


He gently brushed his lips against her forehead. She smiled up at him, weakly, the light in those silver eyes fading. She'd always seemed to have a tinge of purple around her, as if a violet haze were following her around everywhere. Her unmarred skin, dark hair, and glowing eyes were as much of an opposite as you could get from his tanned and scarred face, sunshine hair, and smiling azure gaze. He should have known someone as beautiful and ethereal as her couldn't be with someone like him.

She shuddered as she breathed, her eyelids lowered just a fraction more, and he felt her grip on his hand start to slip. Still, she smiled and struggled and kept her eyes locked on his. He didn't cry; he was past tears. Her eyelashes dipped a little lower as she exhaled. In the corner of his eye, he could see the stain of blood invading her little by little, tainting her fading purple glow with the stark red of death.

He had seen too many die. He had grown up too much these past years. He had finally been able to see who had been the one to silently stand beside him all along. He had just kissed her, long and passionately, in a stolen moment before she was sent off on a mission, just outside Ichiraku's. He had only just begun to show her just how much fun trouble (like him) really was.

She breathed again, her eyes slowly closing, but still locked on him. Her smile never faltered. He didn't allow his gaze to slip down to where that gaping wound had torn her apart, for fear of letting out the fox like he had when he first saw her fall.

He didn't remember what happened, but carnage filled the area when he regained consciousness. He hadn't stopped to worry over the details, but scooped her up and carried her back to the best medic-nins he knew.

She would live.

She would die.

They hadn't given him either answer. But he knew, as he watched her breathe in air that once came effortlessly, as her eyes slowly dimmed, that she wouldn't share those brief moments of joy with him anymore. She would no longer look at him adoringly as she laughed at him. She wouldn't give him a small, quiet smile to welcome him back home from a long mission. She wouldn't lose that small smile to his lips anymore.

In a way, he had always expected to have someone close to him, like she was, taken away. He just hadn't expected her to be that someone. He had known, though, from the moment he first saw her that she wasn't for the likes of him. The angel would never look twice at the demon. And when she had -well, his world had only shown the mercy of falling to pieces slowly. It all made sense, when he thought about it. They were never made to last.

He couldn't help but wish that it was his breaths that caused his entire body to shake, his blood staining his clothes, his eyelids dragging down him down into oblivion.

The faintest glimmer of white, with the smallest modicum of a purple tinge, peeked out through her dark lashes at him. She was still smiling. Her hand was limp, but laid inbetween his. Her hair was spread across her pillow, tangled and not at all neat and silky like she usually kept it.

He was reminded of so many times he had seen her smile at him like that, after he had made her proud and feel loved, and how she would close her eyes and fall asleep as if he had solved every problem that tied her to this world.

Maybe he had.

She was still smiling at him, but he could feel the tears welling up in his eyes. Even though he was denying it with all he had, he knew she was leaving. He held her hand steadily; she exhaled.

Her eyes clamped shut.

She was gone

.

The tears fell as he kept on looking, willing her eyes to snap open, her lips to open, her gentle words to grace his ears. She remained still. The purple haze, or what remained of it, drained away.

He'd always known that she was not his to keep forever.

He just hadn't expected it to end so soon.


A/N:

See. Told you it was meaningless and stuff. Unless this (somehow) gave you great insight into your life. Then I suppose I'm a philosophy prodigy. (Random person: *snicker*) Meh. Either way, the distinct lack of dialogue has me twitching.

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