"what i said, naruto… is that i love you!"
in the moments that follow, you have to relearn how to breathe. your heart sputters to life after seizing into a knot—stalled blood and muscle, useless in your chest. she's always held this power over you, and you've accepted it, so many times over the years that it's just another part of the mantra you say to yourself to ease the aching of loneliness in your bones.
she doesn't mean it, when she sinks her fists into you. she doesn't mean it, when she shoots you down at every turn and tells you—smiling softly, as the streetlights dance over her skin—that you're her best friend.
you may have a demon sleeping in your belly, but you've bent at the knee for her; bowed your head.
made her your queen.
the witnesses circling the perimeter of this grand scene have always known. kakashi-sensei has watched you make yourself into a fool, yamato-taichou is already so finely tuned in that you wonder sometimes if he wasn't always there. the way his hand lands on your shoulder sometimes, as if he understands so damn well, renders you speechless every damn time. sai stands behind her, and he's staring at you. for the first time, you notice the curl of his upper lip and the minute shifting of his boots in the dirt. he's uncomfortable.
of all things, this is what reaches him.
and sakura, beautiful, brash and proud sakura, can't take her eyes off the ground. brave sakura, who has stared her fears in the face for longer than even she's realized, can't look at you.
it feels as if your eyes close themselves, permission-less, to hide the sight of her struggling not to falter in her lie; your hands move on their own, clutching the front of your jacket until the tips of your fingers go numb.
it's everything you've ever wanted—every daydream come true—and it's a farce.
you want to run. hide. never face the light of day again. no one should be seeing her break your heart yet again, but you've made it this far, haven't you? what's one more trip 'round the carousel?
and it takes everything in you to close that distance between you and her; that angel you wish could see you for who you are—a man, who'd give her the world if she'd just ask. you're already risking life and limb for a promise you made her, even if it left a scar on your soul to utter the words.
but this is what it's about, in the end.
you can't fault her for trying to stop you. the idea that maybe she does love you—not in the way you wanted, needed—makes it a little easier to speak, to choke down a cry and grasp onto what's left of your dignity.
it hurts so badly that it takes a few tries to catch your breath—you're still relearning.
but you open your mouth and force the words out. you stand there burning alive, turned inside out for this girl.
i can't stand people… who lie to themselves.
