A/N- I'm writing this because it's been too long and I'm on study leave and I'm in love with Naruto and Team 7 and the second Shippuden movie and life is devastatingly anti-climactic at times.
Introspective on the dynamics of Naruto and Sakura's friendship, with a bit of Team 7. Okay, actually it's mainly an analysis of Team 7, with a dash of Naruto and Sakura's friendship dynamics. Plus, the rift between them which we call Sasuke.
It's romantic and yet it's definitely not. I was tempted to turn this into a time-travel fic but I don't have the patience at the moment.
Set after the time-skip and somewhere between Team Kakashi meeting Sasuke again and recent manga chapters.
There are spoilers for Shippuden ahead.
And I own nothing.
walking on water
1. hallelujah – team seven
the minor fall and the major lift
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"You know, I've had a crush on you since we were kids," Naruto stated, staring into the last embers of the fire; the dark orange light reflecting against the sharpened edges of his face, casting shadows below his eyes. The still silence of the campsite was deafening and Sakura suddenly realised how tired he looked, for all his short sixteen years.
And she couldn't remember how their quiet conversation had turned to this.
The escort mission had been tedious, predictable and bordering on pointless. Sakura inwardly suspected her shishou of sending them on this mission simply to get Naruto out of the village (and out of her hair), whilst her teammate had loudly proclaimed his feelings towards the mission; "A-rank, my ass! Granny Tsunade better have a good excuse for sending us on this lame mission! We could have been out tracking Sasuke again instead of this!"
After their client was safely delivered to his destination in the Rain Country without any disturbances, the remaining members of Team 7 made their way home. The mid-Autumn sky had darkened quickly on their journey, the blue skies disappearing before they could even be noticed. So, when he tripped over a branch instead of landing on it for the millionth time that evening, Naruto suggested that they set up camp somewhere and start out early in the morning.
And now, here they sat in a small clearing in the woods surrounding the border between the Fire and Rain countries. Sakura thought that they may have rested in this place many times before on the way home from past missions but she couldn't recall such times.
And here was Naruto, saying words that held so much and yet so little meaning to her, and she couldn't remember another time before this when the maturity Naruto had gained over the two years he spent with Jiraiya scared her so much.
It wasn't as if she hadn't known how he felt, she rationalized. But for him to come out and say it like he was speaking of the weather, it was unnerving. What words do you say to that? Me too, Naruto. Forever and Always? Sakura had forgone all of the love clichés so long ago that it was becoming painful to even contemplate them.
Her thoughts vanished when Naruto chuckled sadly and almost bitterly (but not quite because this was Naruto). It was short and sharp, his voice slightly raspy and unbearably raw, and Sakura thought she could hear a chink from within her chest, but she told herself quickly that it wasn't her heart.
"And you always loved Sasuke. Always." He looked up from the illuminated wood, meeting her eyes for what seemed like the first time in forever. The light from the moon pouring through the trees caught the blue of his eyes for just a moment and she was caught up in the unspoken words and the couldhavebeen's and shouldhavebeens and wouldhavebeens and then he blinked and looked away. She was sure she heard a whisper which sounded suspiciously like "teme", full of remorse and nostalgia and just a hint of a smile, but she couldn't be sure.
She stared at the man-child before her; her throat tight and dry and the burning behind her eyes intensifying. In her mind's eye, she could see him as twelve again; round-faced and eyes gleaming with mischief, full of never-ending "Sakura-chan's" and "teme's". Team 7 had sat around many campfires identical to this one but not quite the same.
One particularly memorable night was during one of those mind-numbing D-rank missions of their genin days. She couldn't remember clearly what the mission had involved but it was probably something to do with chasing missing pets or weeding gardens. Anyway, they were on their way home and it had been late, so they had set up camp in a forest half a day away from the Leaf Village, perhaps even the same one that she and Naruto sat in now, but none of that matters.
But she could still remember the soft petal-pink cover she had been hugging throughout that night, all the while trying to edge closer to Sasuke. Whilst surreptitiously moving away, the Uchiha had been scoffing at something Naruto had said and in turn, Naruto kicked up the usual fuss, challenging Sasuke to a fight and bragging about becoming Hokage one day and assigning Sasuke to D-rank missions for the rest of his life until he retired.
Sasuke must have retaliated in some other form of insult but before Naruto could jump on Sasuke, she had flung him forcefully into a nearby clump of bushes.
Settling back down with her blanket, she had smiled sweetly at Sasuke, and he had sighed quietly in response.
During all of this, Kakashi-sensei would be sitting languidly against a tree, a little away from the fire, reading his perverted and ever-present orange book. She wonders now if he had known...if he had known what would happen in the not-so-distant future. If he had known Sasuke would walk away from it all. If he had known that these days would be the best of all their lives?
Because, for all the pettiness and childishness and infatuation, nothing else would compare to the warmth and safety of childhood, of the days when they were doing those pointless missions. And she knows, with tragic grimness, that it was very likely that Kakashi Hatake knew this all too well.
She also knows that Naruto fights to get those days back; he fights to get his team back. She doesn't have the heart to tell him that even if they do get Sasuke to come home, nothing will ever be the same as it was before. There is no time anymore, none at all, and they're probably too late to save their bonds, to save Sasuke. Always, always, too damn late, (and they were taking on more and more of their sensei's traits).
too late...
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no time...
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Sasuke...
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The figures around the fire faded slowly from her mindscape until only Naruto and Sakura were left; both sixteen once more, full of jaded anger and nostalgic promises.
The crowded campfires were now nothing more than ghosts of the past; a faraway and unreachable place where they could no longer tread. Sasuke was long gone, like the fire, and Kakashi-sensei hardly ever came on missions with them anymore. Sakura sighed into the silence.
Naruto had tilted his head back, watching the stars overhead.
Swallowing quietly, she cautiously thought over her words, before sighing again. She done too much of that lately.
"Life is so ironic, isn't it?" There would be no use in lying or pretending about how she felt now. "You liked me, I liked Sasuke, and Sasuke was only ever interested in power, which meant I, the weak link of Team 7, was obsolete from the very beginning—"
"No, Sakura-chan! You weren't- you aren't weak...I never thought you were weak..." He scrambled for excuse-words and clenched his fists and was leaning forward now, staring passionately into her eyes over the remnants of their campfire. She had seen this look so many times before when he was doing that wonderful thing he does; making people believe in themselves and in him.
She gave a tired smile which didn't quite reach her eyes. He was always trying to keep the team morale up, trying to keep her smiling and laughing and believing – 'we will bring Sasuke back, Sakura-chan! Even if I have to drag him back to Konoha by his hair!' 'I promise I'll bring him back to you.' – and it worked, most of the time.
"Don't worry about it, Naruto." She was the one staring at the charred pile of wood now, the lightly glowing splinters being the only indication that a fire had once been there, sparkling and crackling and warm. The forest surrounding them was silent, except for the occasional sounds of owl hoots high up in the trees.
She thought she might have heard him talking. Muttering and cursing and then speaking to her. He probably knew she wasn't listening, wasn't there, but he carried on anyway, speaking of strength and power and traitors and friends and team-mates and everything and nothing.
It hurt, she decided, ignoring Naruto's rough-voiced ramblings. It hurt when she thought of Sasuke and the old days. There was no pain like it. Like something sharp ripping through her heart; glass-shards or a kunai or maybe a sword. And because she was a medic-nin, she would sew herself back up, she thought, with black wire. Black wire, twisting in uneven criss-crosses – if it was too neat then it would be too easy to forget. A scar, an ugly dark one, would be left and it would be fitting.
Because after all, all good things come to an end, and she should have known that.
Suddenly, he was kneeling in front of her. She hadn't even noticed when he'd moved from his place at the other side of the fire, but he was a ninja, but then again so was she. So weak.
They stared at each other, so close now. She could feel his breath and smell his skin and hair and clothes. His scent reminded her of the times she would open her bedroom window in Konoha, and breathe in the cool air; he was like dewy grass and clearing clouds and the sunshine after the rain.
She could see all the colours in his eyes; the previously solid blue she had always presumed was now different and beautiful, coloured with varying shades of azures and ceruleans.
She thinks that this is probably the closest she's ever been to Naruto, and she can almost feel the coolness from the tip of his nose, almost. They should have been blushing by now...
But the closeness reminds her of another time, when there had been tears and marks like black fire and sobbing, heaving breaths, and her face against someone's rigid back, feeling the burn of his skin beneath the material against her cheek, and strands of pink hair were fluttering in the wind.
But now it was too late and none of that mattered, and -
"What would you give," she mused aloud in a low whisper, startling Naruto and cutting off anything he was going to say. "What would you give to go back…"
"To go back where?" Naruto asked quietly, although she knew his obliviousness this time was superficial and he knew what she was saying, he knew.
"Back to when we were a team."
He frowned. "But, we are a team."
There was never a moment before this that Sakura felt such an urge to slap him. Slap him so hard that it stung red, because how could he be so stupid.
Calming herself, she breathed out and looked at him, meeting his sea-coloured eyes which were eerily calm and waiting.
"You know what I mean, Naruto. What would you give to go back…?"
Everything surrounding them seemed to cascade in and then out, and Sakura felt dizzy but Naruto sat still. He blinked slowly, with a calmness which she feared was not his own. Sighing under his breath, he gave her a small smile, so quiet and tragic and beautiful and all those things she would never associate with him before this moment.
"Too much."
And that's all that needed to be said.
The clouds that had steadily covered the sky above their camp had cracked and small droplets of rain began to fall. They continued to stare at each other, so very close and in the darkness now. The only light coming from the nearly invisible moon behind the trees.
She watched his gleaming blue eyes, as the rain washed over them both steadily, rivets clinging to the strands of their hair. Her eyes followed a bead of water which trickled from Naruto's forehead protector and down the bridge of his nose, until it dropped off the tip, landing somewhere on the dark material of his thighs.
She looked back up and he was still staring at her, and she wondered what he was looking for. The rain was becoming colder and her clothes were sticking to her but she didn't dare move, lest the moment be over. Time seemed to elongate for them as the patter of raindrops surrounded them, encasing them.
For a split second, as she watched him watching her, she thought that he might kiss her. She knew it would be warm and spicy, mixed with rain and salt and everything that was him. His lips would feel hard but the kiss would be soft, and the tip of his nose would be cold against her cheek, and it would be so wrong, and yet so damn right.
But he didn't, and she knew he wouldn't, because he was Naruto and she was Sakura, and things were never that simple or easy for them.
She didn't know if he had moved closer or further away, but she found herself entranced with the tiny black lashes protruding from his eyelids and the water clinging to them. It would be impossible to tell if the water was caused by the rain or not.
He cleared his throat.
"Sakura-chan…?"
"Yeah?" she breathed, her voice barely discernible above the noise of the rain.
"I miss him, you know? You're not the only one who misses him. He was my…my…"
"I know."
And he nodded.
Time passed with an aching slowness until the rain stuttered and turned to drizzle. Naruto seemed to be torn between standing and sitting but logic seemed to take over as he closed his eyes and slowly stood from his place in front of her. She tried to pretend that the sudden empty feeling in her chest was caused by something else.
He rubbed his face, clearing away the raindrops and shook his hair gently. He gave her a quick grin as the water from his hair spattered over the grass.
"You're soaked, Sakura-chan," he said quietly and as if he wasn't just as wet. She wanted to lament on the 'chan' and how he still used it so freely and without hesitation but couldn't find the energy. "We should dry off and find somewhere else to sleep."
And as he turned away and began to collect his belongings, Sakura stared at the wet, black wood in front of her. She took a moment to close her aching eyes and breathed in slowly, surrounding herself with the metaphors and Naruto's dewy scent.
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And love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah