Disclaimer: I do not claim to own Naruto or any of the characters. Those rights belong to Masashi Kishimoto.
His eyes hurt.
Sleep was an impossible dream. All he could do was toss and turn anymore. The constant darkness of his room fused with the shadows of Sasuke's mind. His limbs tangled themselves with his sheets, black wisps of hair sticking to his sweating brow. When was the last time he went out?
He couldn't remember.
In the beginning, Naruto would frequent his home, trying to drag him out. Saying what he needed to do was live, that that was what they would have wanted. Saying anything to help his friend with his inner turmoil. It never worked. It's been two months, and not one of the Uchiha's famous arrogant smirks graced his features. Naruto was hurting, too. His strained smiles and forced optimism only grated on Sasuke's deteriorating mind even further, bringing flashbacks of terror to the forefront of his mind.
Blood. Thick and crimson blood gurgling out between pale lips. It was pooling around the body, soaking tattered clothes to bruised, snow-white skin.
Hands clenched at the male's sides, knuckles painted white as half moon imprints were left on the palms. He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to remember. His hand easily found the nozzle of the sake bottle, lifting it to his chapped lips. The liquid burned down his throat, he held back a grimace at the bitter taste. A smash was heard as he threw it across the room, glass shattering against the wall. A sigh escapes him, another full bottle in its place, soon to be empty. His house was littered with empty and broken bottles, and more and more memories were reflected off of the shards of glass.
Normally bright eyes were dulled, the twinkle of life dimming out as final tears leaked down cut up cheeks.
His movements were sluggish, broad shoulders weighed down by both the alcohol and sickening images. He couldn't be in this house anymore. Not when all he could see was the memories they shared together. Fingers push his oily black bangs out of his face, the pads of his feet pounding loudly against hardwood floors on his way to the door. Sasuke strapped on his kunai holster, stepped into his ninja sandals, and made his way through the door.
The silvery rays of the full moon greeted his obsidian orbs, making his milk white skin appear more pasty than porcelain. Asides from the moon, nothing else stood out. It was late night, only a few hours left until the dawn of the new day. Another day that those who were dead would never witness. His head hung low, heading towards nowhere in particular. The ex-rogue often took these walks to calm his stormy thoughts, to at least pretend that day never happened.
The muscles in his legs ached. There was a pressure on his chest that just wouldn't go away. He couldn't stop thinking of bloodbloodblood seeping into the ground, taking away life with it. His stomach lurched, remembering the way the iron scent was thick in the air, impossible to miss. His lips pursed before shifting into a fierce snarl. It was sickening.
The sensation of his knees digging into soft dirt barely registered in his mind. His head lifted up for the first time in hours, his empty gaze sweeping over the slab of stone that was protruding out of the ground in front of him. There was a name engraved in the stone, one that his fingers couldn't help but ghost over in the most tender of ways.
Haruno Sakura.
The raven haired Uchiha hovered over her grave - just like he had hovered over her dying body. His figure was aching with the strain of his lungs heaving too tight of breaths. His throat was closing on him as he refused to acknowledge the stinging behind his eyes. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not to her. She was never supposed to die! She was supposed to continue showing up on his door step, demanding to let her in. She was supposed to stubbornly defend him and stand by his side no matter how hard he tried to shrug her off.
Sakura was always meant to envelop everybody with her warm chakra and loving smiles as she worked to change the medicinal field. As she became the best medic in the Great Nations. Not rotting away five feet beneath the ground.
He couldn't help but think it was all his fault. He should have jumped in front of her and taken the hit. "She wasn't supposed to die," His masculine voice repeated, tone broken and defeated, weakly trying to convince himself with hollow words. If it weren't for his incompetency, she would be alive and breathing, sea foam green eyes sparkling up at him, making his heart beat accelerate in that annoying way she always seemed to effortlessly make happen.
The cold bite of the stone cut into his palm as his grip tightened, his forehead coming down to rest against the headstone. He just wanted to see her again. Hear her laugh. Say all the things he could never find the guts to tell her. The avenger owed her everything. He owed her his life.
Sasuke's thoughts were going a downward spiral, getting worse and worse with every passing day. Remorse and regret filled him to the brim; the gnawing feeling at his heart just wouldn't go away. He knew this feeling well. Sakura was the only one who could pull him out of the deep abyss he often finds himself drowning in. He never thought the obsessive and weak little Genin of Team Seven would be the one he grew to rely on most. He needed her to have something to live for again.
"Sakura.. I-I'm so sorry…"
How could he possibly find the right words to beg for her forgiveness?
Tears flowed freely down his face now. He didn't care if anybody saw. He didn't care what they thought. Sakura was the only one on his mind; he couldn't find it in him to care about anyone else anymore. She was the only one who ever loved him, could see past the stains of blood tainting his hands. And Sasuke loved her, too. The words just never could manage to escape the confines of his heart. She needed to know, he thought. She deserved to know.
A shaky breath made its way through thin lips, a sad attempt at composing himself. His deft fingers gripped a kunai out from his holster, finger absentmindedly tracing along the sharp edge as he thought about how to go about doing this. His heart was pounding so vigorously in his chest it resembled the thunder of his stormy psyche. His hand smoothed over the empty backside of her monument, eyes showing a rare sign of the gentle feelings he held for the deceased rosette. He lifted the tip of the kunai and pressed it against the stone. He was hesitating, unsure if she really would be okay with this.
The wind was soft, tousling his dark strands. It felt like the wind was pulling him toward her grave, taking on the whisper of Sakura's sweet voice, "Sasuke-kun."
Making his decision, Sasuke subtly nodded his head. There was a fluttering feeling deep within his stomach as he pressed the kunai within his possession into the stone, marring its somber beauty.
Hysteria bubbled up the man's chest, his precious eyesight blurring out the words he carved. It wasn't enough. He needed to hold her, to kiss her, to finally share himself with her. He couldn't do this, he thought. Not without her. What was a world without Haruno Sakura?
Certainly not a place he could be in any longer.
His hand found itself at the hilt of his chokutō, sliding it out with a practiced elegance. His aristocratic features were reflected on the sword's edge, dull coal eyes staring back at him. Despite the fact his face was devoid of any emotion, his mind was a whirling black hole, threatening to suck up everything in its vicinity. He didn't want to live day by day only to dig further into depression, into his growing insanity. No one could save him now. Not Naruto, not Kakashi, and certainly not this damned village. With that thought in mind, the feeling of pain quickly overwhelmed his senses, crimson eyes squeezing tight and releasing more droplets down his face.
The precious kusanagi was sticking straight through the Uchiha's abdomen. Fists shook with its hold on the handle of the sword before he roughly pulled it out, intending on rousing the injury even more. He discarded the sword on the stained grass at his side.
His head swirled from the blood loss, but welcoming the darkness that was quickly blurring the edges of reality. The settings around him quickly faded into the faces he could never forget.
His beloved parents and brother taking care of him while he was ill. Two annoyingly bright teammates' backs towards him as they out theirselves in danger to protect him. Itachi's peaceful smile left on his face after his final breath. Naruto's unwavering determination in keeping his promises. Sakura's devotion that he always managed to take for granted. Kakashi's lazy way at offering his wise advice.
Sasuke was thankful for it all. But he was ready to be with her. His wishes were granted, soon pink was all his closed eyes could see. His hand lifted up from his wound, entangling themselves in her coral locks. Doleful green eyes manifested, unbelieving the sight she was witnessing. "Sasuke-kun..?"
Her melodic voice caressed his ears, Sasuke was quick to encircle his arms around her waist in a tight embrace, burying his nose into her chest. "I can't be without you, Sakura.." Sasuke confessed, his lips brushed her collarbone with his murmuring. He relaxed when he felt her arms wrap around his shoulders, fingers soothingly running through his black spikes.
He was unbelievably happy that he was able to see her again, even as he was dying. He wondered how he had been so blessed to have her in his life after everything he's done. Now, he won't have to aimlessly live day after day. He can be in peace with the person he loved more than anything.
His eyes peeked open to slits, taking in the last image of life he was to see. He smiled, truly smiled for the first time in months at the wonderful sight of the carving he left on her gravestone, before his eyes closed again, Konoha's cherry blossom waiting for him with open arms.
Uchiha Sakura