Teardrops in the Rain
Tmp-tmp-tmp says the rain on the roof. Tmp-tmp-tmp. Tmp-tmp-tmp.
Whilst Sasuke and Naruto bled, battled, died and re-defined themselves, Sakura lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling.
Deep down, she knew there was no way of truly winning, she'd know for a long time. Her words to Sasuke had been words of desperation, one last chance to which she'd thrown herself into.
One should never throw ones self into water that has not been checked.
The blow from landing against Sasuke's indifference had stunned her, scrambling her brain and making her ask impossible things of Naruto. Even if Naruto won and brought Sasuke back – he was stronger, stronger than Gaara even, could he? Would he? – she didn't know if she wanted that to happen.
The rain that rages against her roof is now falling on Sasuke's face, and mixing with Naruto's blood.
Part of her had hoped Sasuke would stay forever, that he would never fulfil his promise of vengeance, but she knew that it was only a dream. Sasuke had lost himself, and all their memories would disappear, like teardrops in the rain.
Tmp-tmp-tmp. Her heart beats with the pattern of the rain, as Naruto opens his eyes and Sasuke walks down a dark path. The fragile world they had begun to build (carefully, carefully, so much pain to channel, too much power, make it of dreams and laughter, a home for the lost and lonely) collapses with a sigh.
The rain dies, and so does her heart.
She knows it has ended, for the moment. But the red string of fate has woven itself tightly around the trio and will not easily release its victims. They will meet again in the fullness of time and when they do, it will rain.