Daffodils
By Redd Heart
Just a short drabble that's quite heavy on symbolism, and Naruto/Sakura is definitely implied. Don't know if this will get much feedback, but enjoy nonetheless!
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, Masashi Kishimoto does.
When she was a child, her mother had once told her that the symbolism associated with the daffodil was regard, unrequited love, chivalry, sunshine and respect. As she grew up, she came to associate herself with regard; a way to judge something or somebody, unrequited love; her relationship with Sasuke, and respect; something she'd achieve when she became stronger. However, none of those adjectives fit these blooms, or so she thought.
The daffodils were far too bright, she observed, it was already nightfall and their light was keeping her awake. They were far too expressive, much like her blonde teammate, who was surprisingly absent from the chair next to her bed.
She marvelled at how dark the room looked, only the pale moonlight providing an act of illumination. It was times like these when she truly appreciated the quiet. When the silence wasn't filled by nurses coming in to freshen her linens, or Shizune when she came to check on her condition while gently reassuring her that she would overcome this ordeal, or Tsunade-shishou when she came in to check her vitals (she would never admit it to her master as there was no logical reason for it, but the healing chakra only nauseated her further). Then of course there was Naruto, who would insist on keeping her up to date with current events, even when she wouldn't utter more than a distant greeting to him in return.
Breaking her gaze from the yellow flowers, her eyes glanced towards the foot of the bed where a file would normally be located for any other patient. Her stomach churned at a thought. How did others in her position do it? Patients had to give up their name and their history to the nurses while surrendering their body to the medical staff. She wondered how any of her own patients could not feel this way when they placed their lives in her hands. To feel like nobody, to be someone without an identity. Afterall, the identity of the patient was replaced with a number attached to an ailment; a folder containing the patient's medical record would be placed at the foot of their bed. She never did agree with that method, even if it was more efficient. Of course, as the Hokage's apprentice, she was privileged to special treatment.
She shifted her position, stacking the pillows behind her so she could sit upright. The movement should have upset the muscles in her legs due to months of inactivity, however they were surprisingly lithe. She knew the reason for that of course; with conscientious patience and care, someone had gently exercised and stretched her muscles on a regular basis, to keep them from solidifying permanently and decaying into grey matter.
"I know someone else like baa-chan or Shizune should do this," he would say, grin set on his face as he uncovered her leg. Nevertheless, it was he who would gently work the muscles in her legs so that if she was able to train again (he would always say "when") she wouldn't have to spend an extensive period rebuilding her primary mobile skills. The first time he had done this, she would have knocked him past the ozone had she not been bedridden, so she had to settle with a mediocre kick that barely dislodged her limb from his grasp.
He would then proceed to tuck the blankets around her upper thigh, making sure she felt securely covered, before lifting her knee and beginning the first series of stretches. He would always begin whistling at this point, a meaningless upbeat tune. It amazed her but at the same time it didn't surprise her that he still managed to make it sound off-key, even as an improvisational melody. She wouldn't hesitate in reminding him of his lack of talent in the music department, at which point he'd chuckle saying that's the most she's spoken in hours.
Hours to him, more like weeks to anyone else, she inwardly noted.
She would eventually settle after a few minutes and simply watch him quietly, eyebrows knitted in mild irritation as he would sit on the edge of the bed, doing pressure point work up the back of her calf. In the back of her mind it would always irk her at how comfortable he seemed, that he seemed much too familiar with the procedure, while she simply felt flustered and had to resist the urge to squirm. This was her teammate afterall.
Afterwards he'd recover whichever leg he'd been working on and idly press certain points of her legs, lingering a little longer than what would be considered professional, and her ire would increase yet again. He would then usually start up light conversation and she would simply observe him, taking notice of how the sunshine that spilt into her room would land on his hair in such a way that his already yellow hair would shimmer like wheat.
Golden yellow. Like the daffodils.
It was Naruto who brought her those daffodils. For every single day that she was in the hospital he would bring one. If he was away for extensive periods on a mission he would still bring her one for the days he missed when he returned. He would usually bring them done up in a bouquet; white paper enveloping them so securely with a ribbon the colour of pink coral tied in a fashion she recognized from the Yamanaka shop. He would then place them in the vase beside her bed, getting rid of the now dead blooms while cheerfully reiterating whatever mission he'd been on.
He was always so cheerful, she wondered if it was ever night in his world. Just like the goddamn daffodils. They would never let her sleep.
She didn't want any flowers. She only wanted to lie still, her palms open and fingers lightly curled. To be a part of and walk hand in hand with the silence that accompanied her during the night. To sleep and feel free from the bustling activity during the day. To not have to go through the tedious medical procedure when her shishou would come to perform the examinations herself every few days in Shizune's place; her pale yellow bangs would fall forward as green chakra flared into her hands as she placed them over various parts of her body. To not have to listen to the village gossip Ino would fill her head with when she came to visit, her very pale yellow ponytail would flip about animatedly as she spoke of a particularly juicy piece of news. Compared to the golden yellow of the daffodils, their yellow seemed like washed out imitations—
Why does everything have to be so damn yellow? The daffodils were too yellow, she felt the need to shield her eyes as she glanced at them from her peripheral vision, like one would do when staring directly into the sun. Even though the vase that held them was some distance away from her on the end table she felt as if they were breathing into her ear. Bright faces turned to her: disapproving, coxing, unabashed by her dark thoughts of silence, their sheer yellowness seemed to work its way into her inner networks like her own healing chakra would.
She wondered if either Sasuke or Lee had been affected by these flowers when she'd brought them all those years ago only to snort at her own musings a moment later. Must be the medication topped with all the foreign medical chakra in her body that's causing her delirium.
It had been easier when he was away on missions, she would admit, of course she did miss him, but the air was so much calmer. She herself felt calm as a breeze, she was barely even aware of the nurses who came to check on her; their routines became so mundane to her after awhile she could hardly tell them apart and only able to identify them as "nurses" from their white clothes. There were even times when her friends came to visit that she could only see them without hearing them. She preferred the silence anyway.
Then he would always come back, bringing with him a few of those yellow blooms for however many days he was absent from her side. Then the daffodils would fill the silence she had grown accustomed to with loud noise, just like her teammate as he talked about what she had been missing. Once again, she was effectively distracted from that silence. She still only offered him a shallow greeting, not committing herself to him or his din. Sometimes she wished he would just allow her to wallow in her quiet, as if it were nightfall, but she knew he wouldn't have any of that.
He was so damn loud. Like the explosive colour of the daffodils.
Between the opaque silhouette of the moon outside her window and the daffodils sitting next to her on the bedside table she had felt faceless, like the patients who came in only to have their identities replaced by numbers. She had wanted to join the silence the night brought along with the moon. The daffodils were still breathing down her neck, they were closer than before; they were staring her in the face. The yellow blooms were consuming her every breath and she in turn felt those breaths come easier. The silence in the room was now suffocating and she felt a strange tightening in her chest.
Green eyes turned towards the window next to her bed, she preferred to leave the curtains drawn so she could watch the night. The sky had turned a soft indigo, it would be dawn soon. Of course, he would be visiting her this morning, he had no mission today, he may even come before visiting hours, as eager and impatient he was wont to be. He would then leave for a few hours to train, and then if nothing came up, he would come back to visit her in the evening. She wondered sometimes how he could find so much to talk about, one would think that after so much time together on a team they would run out of things to talk about, but they never did. He was so boisterous to boot, always so confident in everything, and if in fact he wasn't he sure as hell put on a strong front.
When she had been younger she had always liked daffodils, always choosing them over the lustful red roses that Ino preferred. They were a March flower, a March baby, just like her. Daffodils were virtually synonymous with spring; the season of rebirth and new beginnings.
The moon had almost completely faded behind the morning rays, only a few stars still hung in the darker spaces of the sky. The room she had spent an undetermined amount of time in seemed to be warming itself with the rising sun as she passed another grudging look at the daffodils. She should tell him to stop bringing her these, that she's sick of the sight of them. However, she knows of their true intentions, they breathe into her wounds out of nothing less than sheer love for her and because of that she'll let the matter slide. It's all irrelevant now anyway, she's already moving and the cold tile nips harshly at her feet. She's so focused on her task that she doesn't register when the door to her room opens, earlier than she even expected.
"Sakura-chan?"
She had just pulled herself to her feet when she heard the staggered call. She casually stretched her back, popping a few stiff joints as if she had just woken up from a long period of beauty sleep, although considering the period she had been in bed for, it hurt a hell of a lot more than she let on. Turning to her blonde teammate she was disappointed to find that the traces of surprise in his voice was not reflected on his face, in fact he wore a grin of his own.
Of course he expected her to be up any day. This was Uzumaki Naruto and he did not accept setbacks or disappointments, such negative words did not make it into his nindo.
The daffodils which now stood forgotten on Sakura's end table had been far too stimulated, but she never had anything to do with their volatility as the light from the early morning sun seeped without hindrance into her room.
A/N: The reason why Sakura was bedridden is meant to be ambiguous. Sort of like Naruto would be her light in the darkness for any reason, trivial or crucial. I know the outcome and even the mini plot itself was very predictable, but it had more to do with basing them purely on symbolism. :p
Anyway, hopefully it was somewhat enjoyable for you guys, I sure had fun piecing it together!