I wish that you would tell me you love me,

I've never received any roses from anyone before. Every year during Valentines Day, many others would receive if not a rose, a box of chocolates from the ones who love them. Yet, strangely enough, I've never received either. My 'friends' tell me that it's because nobody loves me, or cares enough to actually think of buying me little gifts. Is that really true? I guess in a way the other girls were right. After all, it is true that hardly anyone notices me and only those who would tease and make fun of me would know my name. I was practically invisible even when I was alive.

Yet now it seems that it is all but a little too late.

Because of that, I don't find it hard to believe that even now that I have passed on, nobody visits or remembers me. To many, I was just 'that strange blind girl' who seemed to go to the same school as I do. And yes, that was how everyone referred to me as and remembers me as, not that I was blind- my eyes looked a little different that's all. Not many would remember my name and those from the same school as I would not even know how I actually looked like, not that it bothered me in any way.

I wonder if I was ever loved by anyone in the first place,

Ah… it's starting to rain again. Lately it seems I've lost my sense of touch. I can no longer feel those refreshing drops of rain that would fall upon me. Since childhood, I've gotten used to feeling the rain of my bare skin. Whenever I did something wrong, I would have to spend a night in the 'dog house'. Normally I wouldn't really mind as I enjoyed immensely just gazing up at the stars in the outdoors. However, there was always that occasional pour which would mean I had to seek shelter under the Sakura tree in my backyard.

After all, it seems I have done little to be remembered by.

As I sat on a huge stone with my name carved on it, I smirked. All that was written was a simple Hyuuga Hinata. I gazed into a distance to see many rushing to get under shelters to prevent themselves from getting wet. I don't really see what's so bad about getting wet though. I've spent countless nights in the rain and many have splashed buckets of water on me before and it's not as if I got hurt or anything. Sure sometimes I felt like crying my eyes out but that's just emotional pain, I don't actually feel much physical pain, I mean it's not as if the rain could actually hurt a person.

You smile yet it seems that you are hurting.

Just then, I spot a dark blue umbrella coming my way. Wow, a visitor for me? Nah, he's probably visiting my new neighbor Sasuke. Really, Sasuke receives tons of flowers. Being neighbors and all, I often try to converse with him and he's really quite cold. Strange, yet many females, in particular would constantly visit him. As the figure came closer, I looked at his face, finding it strangely familiar. He reaches into his coat and pulls out a single black rose, placing it gently on the altar. He says a few words which I could not make out and leaves his umbrella behind, sheltering the stone which I had been sitting on. He smiles and yet his eyes are puffy. Was the rain causing irritation to his eyes?

And when I call out to you, you do not answer.

"Hey there!" I said yet it seems he can't hear me- for obvious reasons. I inquisitively stepped closer to him to have a closer look. He continues to smile that sad smile and right then, I recalled who he was. It was my cousin who used to care for me when I was younger. Lately though, we have been on bad terms and he stopped speaking to me, often shooting me glares filled with venom and hatred. As I watched him slowly turn his back on me and solemnly walk away, I gazed at his retreating figure, then to the rose. 'My first rose.' I thought as a smile crept onto my face. I started to feel slightly queasy and I could feel my eyes burning slightly. A warm liquid escaped my eyelids and my vision started to blur. 'Could these be tears?' I thought before turning my gaze away from the rose. I shook my head gently before lifting my chin and looking up at the cleared sky.

The dead do not cry for they have not tears to shed.

'It must be the rain…'