It was midday just after lunch, a light warm breeze signaling the birth of spring wafted through the meadow, a lone man walked across the grass taking in the cool air. The man, a tall dark haired shinobi, leisurely made his way towards the forest on the other side of the field. Pushing aside, a large bush at the edge of the forest, the man found the old abandoned path he used to walk so very often during his youth. He strolled down the path taking in the sights, not much had changed except for maybe a few fallen trees here and there. Small woodland creatures could be heard scurrying around, awake and alert after a winter's sleep. Birds had returned and chirped their songs of spring while they busily readied nests for this year's new hatchlings. The old shinobi stopped at one particular tree, he studied the long trunk and the aged slash marks it held. No one would have normally noticed the slash marks, no one except the old shinobi that made them in his prime and the girl whom those slash marks were meant for. He breathed deeply as his fingers traced the marks. He stood there for a moment, before continuing towards his destination.
He probably walked for half a mile; he never actually measured out the distance of this place, when he stopped at a stream. A small stream that flowed almost silently with the clearest water anyone had ever seen. He smirked at the sight, relieved that it still continued to flow after all these years. He walked up to the stream and stared at his reflection. His charcoal eyes that had once been filled with hatred and revenge were gentler, calmer. Something everyone had noticed as he grew up. He ran a hand through is dark hair noting how the shine it used to have had dulled, and that a few gray hairs started sprouting from his scalp. Still smirking he shook his head while muttering something about getting old. He continued walking the path, remembering all the fond memories he had at that stream.
Not too far ahead, in a small clearing stood a tall majestic cherry blossom tree, already sprouting new little buds that would bloom in a few weeks. The shinobi sat down under the tree, a sense of calmness came over him. He took headband out from his pocket and stared at it, the hidden leaf symbol stared right back at him. He sighed, as he counted the years that had passed. He was seventeen when he returned. He was seventeen when the Fourth Great Shinobi War ended, he was seventeen when he almost killed his best friend in a senseless battle, and he was seventeen when he realized that no matter what he did and who he killed, that there was a pink haired girl back in Konoha who would never stop loving him, whose heart he broke, and that he had to at least try to put the pieces back together.
Thinking back, there was no moment when he realized he loved her, no significant event that made him realize he couldn't live without her. No, it was a gradual thing, especially since it took years to win her full trust back; he had managed to win the trust of most of the villagers before she could fully trust him again. He thought back to the night he almost left again, the night he regained her trust.
Her tear stained face stared held an angry expression as her stare cut through his. He was angry, confused, but mostly he was scared. Why? He never did figure out what he was afraid of. It was more like he was overwhelmed, overwhelmed by trying to make things right and live in the village again. He had been living there for two years already, he had been punished for being a member of Akatsuki, for killing Danzo, and for everything else he had done as a missing-nin. He had officially become a chunen, and was about to be made a jonin, even though he had started adjusting to village life, it overwhelmed him. How can he be okay living in a village that killed his family? That caused his brother so much pain? Better yet how could his friends, his sensei, and others just accept him back like nothing happened? What would he do if something happened to his friends, the people most precious to him? He already lost so many he cared for, and living in a shinobi village put his friends at risk every day. He wanted to get out of the village, cut ties to prevent ever being hurt again. But she wouldn't let him. He remembered her yelling at him through her tears, telling him his friends needed him, telling him running away again won't do anything. He remembered being angry and trying to cut her with his katana in a fit of rage, only to have her dodge it and ended up cutting up a tree. But what he remembered most of all was when she got the upper hand, saw and opening and took it. He remembered anticipating the blow of a kunai on his back, but instead felt her wrap her arms around him and cry. Begging him not to go, just like she did when they were genin, instead of knocking her out like the last time he stood there, letting her cry into his back. He let her shed all the tears he had caused over the years, he dropped his katana and mumbled about how annoying she was, and that he would stay. He didn't know how or why, but that night he regained her trust.
The shinobi leaned against the tree and closed his eyes, he often came here and napped on his days off years ago, usually accompanied by the pinkette whom most often had a basket filled with their lunches. He remembered how they found this place after she stopped him from leaving again. He thought about all the times they spent together under this tree. They had their first date here, a simple picnic but he remembered how happy she was, and how relaxed he felt having her around. He remembered the fights they had under the tree over the stupidest of reasons, reason he can't even remember. He remembered finding her crying here a few times, mourning the loss of their friends who had fallen in battle. He remembered the first time they made love together, under that tree. But the one memory that stood out the most was when he proposed to her, right in the spot where he was laying, on a beautiful spring day when all the cherry blossoms were in full bloom. He remembered her radiating smile when she said yes, he remembered himself actually smiling, not smirking for the first time since his early childhood.
He thought of all the times they had together after that, the wedding, and the births of their three children. He thought about the time his youngest son took his first steps under this tree, the first time he held his only daughter in his arms and realized how much of a beauty she is and how many boys he was going to have to keep at bay. He remembered when his oldest son became a chunen at the age of ten; he remembered when his loud-mouthed best friend became Hokage. He remembered when the village was attacked again, and how his team pulverized the enemy, just like the good old days. He remembered watching his children grow up; his daughter the youngest of the bunch was no longer the cute sweet little girl that used to be afraid of the dark, but now a full kunoichi who inherited her mother's deadly strength, about to become a jonin. And his oldest son, who was now head of Anbu, had mastered the clan's kekkai genkai easier than he had and was probably the best user of it. His younger son had decided on being a medic-nin, and he was a fine one at that, he had the best chakra control in the family. He couldn't believe they were all grown up, it seemed like yesterday he was taking the boys fishing at the stream he passed earlier.
He sighed remembering his life so fondly, and every step of the way she was there, with her reassuring smile.
"I thought I'd find you here," a silky voice cut into his thoughts. He opened his eyes to see the smile he had just been thinking about. The woman stood above him, in a long dark pink kimono, similar to the one she wore in her youth. Her short hair was still as pink as ever. Her face was now starting to show a few wrinkles but she still looked younger than she actually was. And her smile, it still radiated the warmth and comfort that the shinobi had been thinking about. The smile he fell in love with.
"It's been a long time since we've been here," he replied in a low voice.
"Let me guess, you were reminiscing weren't you?" she chuckled kneeling to sit next to him.
"We're getting old," he said annoyed as he put his arm around her.
"We're forty-seven," she replied dryly, "you still get sent out on missions."
"Tch, blame the Dobe, he's the one that assigns them," he scoffed. She giggled quietly and kissed him on the cheek.
"Time sure does fly, huh?" she asked leaning into his shoulder.
"Hn," was all he replied.
"You know, I'm surprised no one has found this place yet," she said referring to the tree.
"Hn," he replied again.
"You know, the only thing about you that hasn't changed over all these years is you 'hn-ing'."
He smirked at her, and it was true. His eyes no longer screamed for the need of vengeance, they were gentler, wiser. Not to say he was gentle or anything, because he sure as hell was not. He was still one of the scariest shinobi in Konoha, except to his wife and kids, and his idiot best friend. He looked up at the cherry blossom tree. This tree, this place, had been there throughout the best years of his life. A part of him was grateful to this place, many significant things happened in this place.
His wife finally stood up after a few minutes of silence and looked at him. "We better get going; our daughter becomes a jonin today."
He nodded and stood up, the two walked back down the path towards the meadow. Maybe tomorrow, if they both weren't too busy they could have a picnic, just like they used to, in this place that only they knew.
Slightly random, but I hope you enjoy it :D Lemme know what you think!
x Katherine