She stared at him. The way his hair stuck up, his dark eyes, and how he always frowned. She had tried to help him. Tried to make him see just how marvelous life could be, but he was blind.
The little boy with strong eyes was blind.
Blind by revenge, by hatred, by hurt.
And she couldn't heal him. She could only watch as it tore him from the inside. Watch him as he sold himself to the devil.
She had loved him. Yes, she did love him once. However, when she sees him now she only sees the monster he changed himself into and she hates him.
And he acts like he never cared about any of them. That's what gets on her nerves the most—that he acts like he never cared and left them behind.
But that's how it always is, isn't it?
Love doesn't exist. It's an illusion that Mother Nature created to make sure the species reproduced. She told herself it wasn't real. That's why it comes and it goes.
That's why Lust made so much more sense. Lust is why beings really exist. She noticed that if one would really observe the things around them, they would know that only humans have this so-called emotion "love". Animals didn't waste their time worrying about love. They just do what they need to, making sure there's a future for their race.
But does that mean she didn't love him? Maybe it was just lust?
Or was she going absolutely crazy? Perhaps she shouldn't spend so much time thinking, analyzing life and coming up with strange philosophies.
Her eyes averted from the dark haired male in the picture, catching blond hair and blue eyes.
These eyes were different. They were kind, protective, and cheerful. He might have been a fool, but he was not blind like his former comrade. She knew about his crush but pushed him away to pursue the brooding male. She thought of him as annoying, however, now she cared about him. He was a true friend.
She sighed, placing the picture where it belongs- on the shelf with her books. Sometimes she wished she could shut off all the nerves that would inform her of her emotions.
Stop caring about people who obviously didn't care about her. Stop loving people who didn't love her. Stop worrying about people who didn't matter anymore.
But she couldn't.
She felt too much like an abused dog. No matter how many times she was struck with a hand, she would always return to them to make sure they were okay. Was it loyalty or was it a weakness? The inability to tell them to fuck off?
Whatever it was, she wished it would go away.
"Sakura-chan! Are you coming? You'll be late if we don't hurry!" A familiar blond haired fool shouted, waving his arms to grab her attention.
The pink haired ninja smiled, glancing one more time at the picture.
"Yea, I'm coming. Stop being so impatient."