A/N: its sad and angsty and pretty old considering that boruto's already got his own movies and spin offs but y kno whatever
It is 10 years ago that she decides to let him be free.
It is 10 years ago (but feels like forever) that she sees Hinata in that too-bright clothing store; her black, glossy hair shining even in the dim store light. She remembers she herself was looking for a present for him, but she didn't know what it was that drove her to the gray-eyed girl. She didn't know what pulled her into making the decision that she herself has to disappear.
Sakura remembers the beautiful Hyuuga smiling at her, and she remembers the soft, red scarf Hinata was holding. She does not, however, recall how her heart had tightened when her pretty gray-eyed friend had said that it was for him and how, oh how, had she longed to give him something of significance. Significant of her long-standing love.
(love that Sakura is not able to give)
But she remembers how her friend's lips gently curve at the mention of his name, and how the soft dusty pink spread across her cheeks.
To this day, Sakura is still in loss of how she had managed to get the strength, but she raised her hand and placed it upon the girl's shoulder.
And she remembers the words she uttered herself that will forever break whatever is between her and him.
She recalls the bitter taste of a fake smile as she encouraged the blushing gray-eyed girl.
And
she knows
she has no place in his heart
and that
she does not deserve him...
next to this girl who loves him more than she does.
(does she?)
It is 10 years ago that she decides to forget him.
It is 10 years ago that he does the thing he hates the most.
It is also, 10 years ago, that she left the village.
He is out in the balcony, and feeling the cold wind on his cheeks. He remembers that cold, cold night when he came across the pink-haired love of his life.
(love of his life?)
He knows she has been drinking; a trait so unlike her that he worries for her as she pushes away her stool and attempts to stand.
He remembers ignoring her protests of his offer to take her home himself, and remembers the way her warmth radiated off her body as he walked her home.
He does not know, however, how he got caught up in the moment as they arrived upon her door and what compelled him to lay his hand upon her perfect small waist; and how perfect it fits, how it felt like they belonged; and how he leaned in, and
he thinks he remembers how she had also leaned in
and
then pushes him away.
And he recalls the bitter feeling in his heart and how it had poured out of his eyes - invisible - as he sees the love of his life reject him.
And he knows
he knows that
he has no place in her heart
next to the bastard she (still) loved so much.
It is 10 years ago, that he decides to lie to himself and
10 years ago that he decides to give up.
and still, at nights where one can hear a needle drop,
she
and
he
wishes things could have turned out differently.