all I've ever been
silverdiadems
All
I've
Ever
Been
(is helpless)
.
.
'I hate the feeling when i really want to help, but I know there's
nothing I can do.'
.
.
all
i've
ever been
(is weak.)
.
'All I've ever been is weak.'
(because that is the word she has known her whole life, weak, weak, weak.)
She thinks this bitterly to herself, and she is reminded of the boy who never smiles, the boy she loves so much, the one she spends her dreamless nights thinking about.
Love at first sight doesn't exist, she knows, she believes, but what other words can she use to describe the hurt she feels in her chest when he turns away, the warmth in her cheeks, the small touches, the feelings…
'Love,' she thinks.
[Or an illusion of love.]
She hates feeling helpless when she glimpses him in his room crying. She whispers 'I'm sorry' to the wind because only the wind has been with her through the nights were she worries for someone that isn't her.
She feels it in the smallest touches. A small smile her way lights the spark in her viridian eyes, and the world seems brighter, clearer when he's there.
And then he left.
.
.
The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of helping others.
.
.
She's a medic.
She heals with every touch, and she saves every life she can, knowing there is one life she cannot save- the life that matters to her the most.
[Sasuke-kun…]
It hurts, knowing that he'd push away her hands (the very hands made to heal) if she came close. It hurts that she knows deep down that he'd kill her if she ever got in the way.
She had gotten in the way so many times.
He hadn't killed her then.
[but he would now.]
"I won't get in the way next time," she vows, a promise to herself, but also a promise to her beloved.
She takes her hands, hands born to heal, and teaches them how to kill.
.
.
Did I change?
Or did you stop loving, (caring) for me?
(…did you ever love me?)
.
.
The next time she fights him, she is fourteen.
Fourteen and with enough training that she thinks she can battle her demons alone.
The night before, she sneaks of to the hospital, disabling the security cameras with the enter of a password.
She heads to the storeroom.
Storeroom 59 was a dark, rarely entered place. Amidst the other storerooms which hold antidotes, it was the only one which held poisons.
Sakura thinks it funny to hold a room full of the world's deadliest poison in a hospital.
Sakura thinks it funny that nearly all the poisons in there are of her own creation.
She heads to the back of the isles, where the poisons are ordered neatly on shelves. She picks a bottle up, examines the back, noting the notes which a younger Sakura has written.
#43.
'Sasori'.
She twirls it around, watching the onyx ink-like liquid that stains the glass. She tucks it into the pocket of her shorts, and makes her way out of the storeroom, closing the door behind her.
Walking down the hallway, she hears the breathing of the patients in the two hundreds corridor. The two hundreds were for the terminally ill, and Sakura could feel her breath catch with every cough or choke heard in the silent hospital.
The lights were on, but duller then their usual piercing glares. She is thankful for the silence of the terminally ill; for she knows that no one alive tomorrow will remember her presence at storeroom 59.
.
.
Life hurts a lot more than death.
.
.
A smoke bomb and trust is all it takes to subdue Konoha's most powerful ninja.
Sakura feels the sting in her heart for betraying her friends, (friends who cared more than Sasuke would) but the deeper, still bleeding cut in her heart pushes aside a small paper cut.
He's there like Kiba said he was, but seeing him there, in the flesh sends heat to her chest.
He's there. He's really, really there.
No lies. No fake trails. Just him.
Slowly, she makes her way out of the foliage and into the light. He hasn't turned yet. Slowly, she takes step by step, making sure she leaves no trace of sound or sight in her wake.
She takes the poisoned kunai, its surface glistening with the shiny obsidian of Sasori's poison.
(Serve me well, old friend.)
The knife pauses, and she trembles, holding the blade with loose fingers, all determination gone.
(this is the only way I can save him from the darkness. You cannot be useless any longer, Sakura!)
He still hasn't turned, and her breath fades as she draws closer, she is nothing but the wind, nothing but the wind, she is the wind, the wind-
She is-
"-Sakura," her beloved hisses, and Sakura feels the wound in her heart grow deeper. The hurt she feels reminds her there is something there, something inside her.
Love?
The way he says her name is in distaste, not with the friendliness, the care-
"Sasuke-kun," she murmurs lowering her eyes like a child, chastised. She still says his name with love, with sorrow, for the sake of 'what ifs' and 'what could've beens'.
And in an instant, her own weapon is turned against her, and her eyes widened-
(-he saw her, he saw her….)
He holds the obsidian blade to her throat. "Give me one reason," he says, and Sakura stays deathly still, for she knows the poison on that blade all too well.
She lowers her eyes, unable to meet Sasuke's, for his eyes spin in the crimson red of the sharingan, and she will not be foolish enough to meet her own doom.
But with great reverence and sadness, she looks into the scalding red of Sasuke's gaze, her voice soft and with regret when she replies-
"I don't have one."
And before she knows it, she has been saved by another, once again.
.
.
Pause
.
.
.
She's
Broken
Because
She
Believed
(She's broken because she believed.)
(He's okay because he lied.)
.
.
.
Play
.
.
"I can fight my own battles, too, Naruto."
"He would've killed you, Sakura-chan. The Sasuke we knew is lost now."
(…since when has Naruto been so mature?)
"…he wouldn't have, Naruto."
(she sounds uncertain.)
"How do you know?"
"I don't."
(pause.)
"I believe, Naruto. I thought I would have given up before you. You can't stop believing in him, Naruto, please."
(Naruto smiles sadly at her.)
"I guess you're right."
.
.
.
How are you?
.
broken sad lonely depressed dying helpless weak
in pain without hope wearing a mask cutting bleeding
hurting alone without love I'M FINE.hanging onto nothing
lifeless numb stressing angry in anguish dying inside and out
without you crying defying death simply existing
.
.
.
The next time is in a battlefield.
He lands there, next to her, (next to Naruto) but still, next to her.
"Sasuke-kun," she says, in disbelief, and he turns, looking at her with those soulless eyes.
"…Sakura," he greets, and she gives an unsure smile back.
They talk.
They fight.
She runs, into the battlefield, into war, ready to wipe the floor with the blood of her deceased. Her fist, her power is worth a hundred.
Byakugoū.
Her fists slams, and the sheer force of it is enough to stop time for a fraction of a second. The thing flies back, the power fuelling it sweeping the rest of the enemy with it.
(…take that.)
She flies into the whirlwind of destruction she has created, landing on the ground as the dust falls in a graceful crouch; the only sign of the destruction her fists created was the violent rhombus on her forehead.
She's the queen of the battlefield and she will have no king.
And the sun and the moon land beside her, and Sakura realises (no, she sees) the shadow they have cast on their weakest link.
"I can- no, I will stand on my own."
She fails to notice Sasuke's approving gaze.
.
.
.
Wars end.
Peace begins.
.
.
.
(…this is the start of something beautiful.)
"Take me with you?"
"Not this time."
(she smiles all the same, she knew the answer long before he opened his mouth.)
But she is happy.
"I know," she says, but not with sadness, but with truth.
"I'll be back," he says, and she smiles.
"I know you will."
(…not like last time, where you left me, you left me-)
She shuts the door to their past.
They stand in silence at the gate of their home town.
"…be safe," she says at last, when silent agreement decrees his leave.
"I will."
"And come back to me," she continues. "I don't want to lose you-"
His fingers meet her forehead.
(poke.)
She stops.
His hands ghost down, cupping her face.
"I'll come back, Sakura," he says, and this time her name is a treasure to him.
(…it won't be like last time.)
.
.
.
She has a daughter.
A daughter, and Sakura cries because she is so, so, beautiful.
She has a daughter.
She can see him and her in one soul.
"She's beautiful," she says to her beloved, but now she has two she treasure the very most in life.
"Of course she is," her husband says, but Sakura can tell his words are softer, kinder, and gentler. (because he has a daughter.) "She looks like you, after all."
Sakura can't bring herself to smile, for she herself is crying with tears of sadness, love and joy. But she doesn't need to.
He knows how she feels.
(and that's all that mattered.)
.
.
.
For you, I was a chapter.
For me, you were the book.
.
.
.
"Sarada's gone."
"What," hisses she, her fists clenching, "do you mean, she's gone?!"
"She's gone," says Naruto, wiping his brow, worry evident in his aquamarine eyes. "I'm sorry, Sakura-chan, but-"
"Where?"
"Outside the village, somewhere, she saw the picture, Sakura, she's gone-"
"-goddamnit, I know she's gone, don't repeat it, Naruto!" She's angry. Angry that another one she loves has left, and angry so angry that she couldn't stop it.
For the second goddamn time.
"…sorry."
She ignores him, kicking her chair as she stands up. "I'm leaving."
"Not you, too!" Naruto exclaims from somewhere behind her. She ignores him.
"Try and stop me," she growls, slamming the door.
And she's out. Out of the village, out of the tight claustrophobic spaces.
(and on the way to rescue the ones she loves.)
.
.
.
When I say "I'm okay,"
I need someone to look me in the eyes and say-
"No, you are not."
.
.
.
And there she is.
Her daughter, standing with her husband.
She allows herself a small smile.
They look so perfect.
And the eye-thief wields his blade with precision, she growls.
"Don't you dare touch my husband or my daughter you pathetic-"
She punches him hard in the head, and the clone falls to the ground, motionless.
"Mum," Sarada says, and Sakura's heart softens a little more.
(i'm sorry my baby girl grew up in a land of killing and pain and-)
"-Sarada," she says, with relief, happiness, pain, she doesn't know.
Her daughter sobs and she feels arms around her waist.
"I'm sorry," her little piece of heaven cries, and Sakura feels her own eyes watering. But she won't cry because she can feel Sasuke's gaze on her- on them. "I'm sorry I believed you weren't my mother- I love you so much, mum!"
"I know," Sakura whispers, pulling her child closer, murmuring reassurances. "I won't ever leave."
And then the clones surround them.
"You will die," Uchiha Shin guarantees in his liquid voice. And then the attacks start.
Sakura ushers her daughter behind her. "Don't come out from behind me, Sarada," she warns.
(I don't want you to leave me again.)
They fight.
She spins, she dodges, she gets hit- but she doesn't mind, doesn't care- because it means her daughter will be safe.
And when a knife flies out of nowhere, Sasuke is there, Sasuke is everywhere, taking the knife in the back before he ever lets it hit his- their daughter.
"Sasuke," Sakura says, her voice heavy as Susano'o wipes out the clones with one swipe of its arrow.
She hesitates when she presses her viridian glowing hands against his wounds.
(these hands may have been taught to kill, but they will never forget their origins.)
"Don't," she says, voice breaking, "Ever do that again."
"I won't."
"You scared me," she cries, and suddenly the world is a kingdom for two. Him, her.
Sasuke, Sakura.
"You won't leave me," she says, her voice steady, yet shaky. "You won't."
"I won't," says Sasuke, his voice firmer, louder. "I have something to live for."
"Like what?"
"You, a family, my daughter," he says, and she smiles because she knows that he'll be coming back, he'll be coming home- "I have love to live for,"
"So do I," says Sakura. "I've been living for a very long time."
"I know," he says, almost in regret, but Sasuke doesn't regret. Sasuke moves forward. "But-"
"Shush," she says, a finger to his lips. "I know."
He doesn't need to say it, because she knows.
Words unspoken.
(but… I love you.)
.
.
.
I live. I cry. I love.
I repeat.
.
.
.
Sarada watches, and she knows who her mother is.
It's the woman her father loves.
It's Haruno Sakura.
fin.
a/n: thanks for sticking with me for the ride. It's fun writing this. 12 fudging pages.
Please, tell me what you think! It's my first oneshot like this. It was fun to mix and experiment stuff.
Review, please!
Many thanks,
silverdiadems