x_Life's a Privilege, Not a Right_x
It's seeing him walk away at the end of the day that saddens her. It's never the time she spends with him- whether it's sitting in silence, or just laying down and talking about things in the few words they use to express thoughts. That's what language is, isn't it? It's the way to communicate and express thoughts.
But it's also the "hn" she gets whenever he does not find her question interesting, but actually, it's just because it puzzles him. She loves, not only to hear his thoughts, but just the sounds of his voice, forming words to make his thoughts comprehendible. That's what words are- tools to help carry out the purpose of language.
Although they don't speak much, they don't have a lack of communication. It's the way their hands perfectly intertwine and it's the way her lips feel on his that keeps her going. It's the way he soothes her after a tough day by just letting her rest on his lap. They don't exchange words then; just silent sobs emitting from her and strokes and pats coming from him.
Of course, the three paragraphs you just read are in vain- she's dead of course. But this was the way things were.
Wouldn't you love to die a death this way?
Still, whenever he looks at his hands, he sees the other- her hand- holding his when thing were tough, and when things weren't. Now, as he lies in his bed, staring at the dark ceiling in this dark night, his hand aches, his body aches, because he misses her. Her, her touch, her voice, her smell, but mostly just her, is what is missing.
They promised that, once Itachi was taken care of, they really had nothing to worry about- that life would just continue and they would maybe even take the step further. You know, the making of a child?
But he- she didn't either- know what was going to happen in between that "fork in the road"- that's what she called it. He suggested it was just an impediment, and that they'll get back on the road of life once he gets rid of it.
After all, she believed that suggestion. It wasn't really any of their faults that she just had to die.
But that's not what he thinks; he blames himself, himself, and only himself. "I should've been there," he's repeated many times before, sitting in this dark room, on this stupid bed. He digs his head into the pillow- her pillow. The one she slept on when they discussed his departure; the one she rested her beautiful head on.
But she died two years ago; nothing of her remains on that pillow- nothing but his memories, the ones that tease him most. He curses that damned cancer- the one she's lived with all this time, and even when she complained of the pains, and even when one night she described it as a "pain going from my abdomen to my back". That type of pain is uncommon. Sasuke, being the smart one, should have recognized that. He lies in his bed now, cursing at himself for letting the symptoms slide. And he left, still unaware of how serious her problems were becoming: she wasn't sleeping, wasn't eating…
Cancer was silently stealing her life away, and he let it slide the whole time.
Once he returned to Konoha, of course after exterminating the god damned weasel, he wasn't feeling what revenge was thought to feel like- happy? Relieving? Accomplishment?
But he wasn't feeling that at all. And after Naruto and Sakura came to welcome him back, he implored," How is she?"
"Dead."
That one, four letter, one syllable, short, simple phrase, that was just so short and simple you probably could teach a baby to learn it before the word "mommy", had just left him breathless.
He had lost his breath. He had been out of breath. His breath was entirely gone.
Sakura had spoken the word in the gravest tone any girl of her personality could muster, and Naruto was the most sober Sasuke has seen him since the death of the Third Hokage.
"What is meant by 'dead'?" Dead is the simplest word in the world. Dead; muerte; morte; deddo, nai;mort. But it is probably, if not the most, devastating word in any language.
"Dead means dead. She's dead. She's had silent pancreas cancer spreading and eating her since-"
"I don't care how long, Naruto," Sasuke interrupted, just too mortified- yes, the word "mort" in a word- to even consider what exactly killed her.
She was dead, and that just kept running through his thoughts in every sentence that followed.
That just so (she's dead) strange, Sasuke thought.
But if it's always been there (she's dead), then why hadn't-
That's when it hit him. He was just so unfocused, mainly because she dismissed it as "it's just a cramp", or "it's nothing, don't worry about me", when it was getting worse: she was becoming more…more…
Dead. That's exactly what was going on the whole time.
As if on cue, Ino came strolling by, squealing," Sasuke-kunn's back!!"
But no one responded, Sakura being too out of it, Naruto maddened because Sasuke left her and was always with her- I mean, why wouldn't he have noticed the signs?!- and Sasuke clouded by the vision of grief, loss, and just plain old, "my girlfriend's been dead for two years and it's all my fault," slapped right on his face.
But now, right now, sitting in this dark room, doing nothing but trying to find some remains, something of hers to thrive on in his moment of mental peril, he stares out the window, and it's raining, pouring…he's guessing there's some old man snoring.
But on top of all this, he finds some way of peace.
She loved the rain. She loved cats. She loved cherries. She loved flowers. She loved people. She loved him.
He loved her. That is what will make things okay.
He now lies down in the wet grass, rain caressing his face, his clothes, him- and he knows that she would have wanted to be right beside him- right here, right now.
And that is why his awareness has brought him closer to her.
Life is a privilege; not a right.