"We come to love

not by finding a perfect person,

but by learning to see

an imperfect person perfectly."


i.

We are friends.

Or at least, I think we are friends.

He never told me that we are, but he never announced that we aren't either.

So I have declared that we are friends over the years; "the best of friends because you know all my secrets, like, seriously, all of them".

Even though I don't know any of his.

Like, seriously, none of them.

ii.

We are both from different circles.

He runs with the wild crowd; Naruto, the partiers, the jocks, the pretty girls, and the other popular groups.

Obviously, I don't run with them (well, except in PE class).

A funny thing is that I also don't run with the other cliched groups that consists of any high school.

I'm in the rarest of all groups; the normal people.

Or normies, as we like to call ourselves (I'm just kidding; we don't call ourselves that).

iii.

Since I don't belong anywhere, I usually keep to myself.

You're probably wondering how I know him then, right?

Easy: we're neighbors. Have been for a very long time (since we were in diapers). His mother used to make him play with me when we were kids. Then we progressed from playing together to studying, then from studying to star gazing.

Blah.

We never star gazed, but I like to call it that because he always looked up at the sky (or the stars) whenever I was talking to him about my day, or about my life in general.

And then, when he shared what he wanted to share, he still looked up.

iv.

He doesn't know that I know he's sick; or he does know and still doesn't want to tell me.

Maybe he has not accepted the fact that he's sick, however denial can only get you so far; he has to come to terms with it and fast. "You only live once, Sasuke, enjoy life to the fullest."

He rolls his eyes and proceeds to frown.

He's not paying attention to the film we are watching anymore; he's focusing on his hands and they are shaking.

Maybe it's out of fear.

The chemo isn't helping him; he's getting worse.

Then I realize my stupid mistake and I want to beat myself up. How can he enjoy life if he doesn't know how much life he has left?

v.

"Do you believe in Heaven?"

I raise an eyebrow at the question and turn to face him.

He's looking up at the sky and I mentally frown, disappointed.

"Well," I start, "I'm Catholic, so yeah, I believe in Heaven."

Then finally, as if God heard my silent prayer, Sasuke turns and looks right at me.

I never knew how much one look can change my perception of life.

vi.

The day before my birthday I receive an unexpected voicemail.

"Sakura, it's Itachi. Sasuke's really bad and he is not accepting the chemo treatment anymore. Tsunade says he doesn't have much time left, so…yeah. See you at the hospital."

After I punched my bedroom wall, I went to the hospital.

But not because of Sasuke.

It's because I broke my knuckles.

When I did see Sasuke, he immediately chuckled. The pain was worth it if I got to see my best friend smile one last time.

vii.

I am in the hall waiting for Mikoto to finish speaking with Sasuke.

When she walked out of the room teary eyed, I silently prayed to God to not let me breakdown.

Then I walked in.

He was looking out the window, obviously seeing the sunset for the last time.

"Yo," I say, and he turns to look at me.

He's been looking at me a lot lately.

He motions for me to sit on the chair next to his bed, and I oblige.

We stare at each other before his gaze lingers to my hands folded on my lap.

I focus on my hands too and realize they are shaking.

"Why are you scared?" he whispers.

I'm scared of you dying. I'm scared your mother is going to break and not patch herself up. I'm scared that you didn't get to do everything you wanted to do. I'm scared of not having someone to talk to. I'm scared of being alone. "I'm scared because I just realized that you're going to die when we just started…when we just started talking."

He gives me a small smile and tells me I will be fine.

Then he reaches to grab a hold of my hand.

He's so cold.

"You're so warm. Always have been, Sakura."

In that instant, I didn't care about the many times he has ignored me or called me annoying when I babbled too much. I didn't care about the many times he has ever scoffed at my ideas for projects. I didn't care that he was almost always a jerk towards me. I didn't care about any of it. Not one bit.

"Sakura-"

And he looks at me; really looks at me.

"Thanks," he whispers before he gives me a small smile and sleeps.