It was dark, cloudy afternoon. And as you know, darkness, and gray clouds are bad omens for a storm. And storms mean a sad story.

This is one such story.

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It was cruel fate that she had met her killers on that day. She was on a simple scroll retrieval mission. They were supposed to be far away in a distant country. Why had they met? No one will ever know. What they were doing there? No one can answer. But I can tell you one thing, it wasn't supposed to happen.

She had been in Amegakure to take back a stolen scroll that had been the Sandaime's. a black cloak covered her body as she ran quickly through the trees. It had gotten darker than usual. Rain was imminent. The faster she was sheltered, the better. But that was when she felt it, the humongous charka signature. At first she thought it was all coming from one, powerful ninja, but as she studied it, she realized that it had variations of charka within it, signifying many ninjas together. But it was so massive. Why were there that many ninjas in one place?

She went over to investigate. But as she jumped from tree to tree, she noticed that they were moving, headed in the direction of the Amegakure capitol. That was where the Amekage resided. Why were they headed there?

Now she could have escaped to alert her Hokage of the hundreds of ninja traveling in Amegakure for an unknown reason. But, this girl was always thirsty for the quench that only knowledge could give, so she, instead, moved close enough to see where these ninja were from.

Hiding in the cover of a particularly thick branch, she masked her chakra (which wasn't difficult for someone like her with perfect chakra control) and watched as the hundreds of ninja walked below her. But as she looked at their forehead protectors, she gasped.

They were from Otogakure.

The Land of Sound

Before she could retain any more information, she noticed that the marching army had stopped. Their leader shouted something to his comrades, inaudible to her, and then turned to face the tree in which she was hidden. He pointed and shouted, "Attack!"

That was how she knew that she had been found.

In the blink of an eye she was gone from her branch, now jumping through the canopies in a desperate retreat.

She had to inform the Godaime of the massive army in Amegakure. Were they here to attack the Rain Country? Had the Otonin come to aid Rain in the upcoming war with Konoha?

But she didn't have time to think past that as she saw five kunai race past her. She whipped around to face three Otonin holding up their weapons ready to attack.

She prepared her own kunai posed to deflect or strike at a moment's notice.

That was when the two males of the group attacked at once. She blocked one with her kunai and kicked the other with her charka infused leg earning a crack from the man's rib and a grunt.

She pushed the other man off of her, her cloak swishing as she did, and plunge the kunai into his side. But doing this caused her hood to come off. Bubble-gum pink hair could now be seen along with green eyes flashing dangerously, looking for an escape route, a strategy, anything.

She turned to face the female of the team, she was concentrating on something and had just finished the handsigns of a jutsu. At that moment, the Oto kunoichi opened her mouth, almost like she was going to sing, and powerful soundwaves were emitted, shaking trees and pushing her pink-haired opponent back.

The green eyed girl placed charka in both her legs and arms in an effort to stay standing against the force of the attack. She had to think fast, she needed a plan.

She looked down to the kunai in her hand.

"That's it!"

She threw the weapon at the singer. She had thought about it, it wasn't wind coming from the foe, it was just sound. A kunai should be able to travel and cut through it to it's target.

The Otonin had to stop her song as she saw a kunai headed toward her. It was easily deflected and it was thrown a good two feet away. When she finally looked over to the girl with pink hair, she saw a smirk upon that face of hers as she lifted her hands in a handsign. "Release!"

The deflected kunai went off with a resounding explosion and the Oto kunoinchi gasped as she was engulfed in the blow.

Barely a moment after the defeat of the three-man cell, however, the pink haired girl was thrown back by the force of the punch of her surprise attacker. She was pushed off of her branch and went plummeting down to the earth.

Using charka, she landed safely, but unfortunately for her, the rest of the army stood before her now. They surrounded her and begun their attack. She performed her Mystical Palm Technique on dozens and her super strength on hundreds. It was similar to the fight between the Akatsuki's Sasori and his hundreds of puppets except that these were human beings, with their own mind, body, and soul.

She kicked one to her right, punched another to her left, severed the muscles of someone else, and used her charka scalpel on a miscellaneous Otonin. She was the apprentice of the Godaime, one of the Sannin. She had been trained until her bones broke and her limbs screamed in agony. She had been taught all of the medical jutsu known to her teacher, and probably to man. But she was never prepared to defeat death itself. No one is.

She stood among a sea of corpses and the injured. She panted and wheezed and she felt like she would collapse on the spot, but she knew that she couldn't, for, in front of her stood the commander, the chief, of the Otonin. His previous master was now deceased, but his lunatic dream still lived on in his most faithful servant. In the man that stood before her.

"I see that you are fatigued. Why not rest?" He said with a coy smile, grey hair covering his eyes.

Before she could retort, she bent down and clutched her side. She stared down at the open wound, dripping with blood, soaking her clothes. She had other such wounds scattered across her body, all as serious as the last. She couldn't fight with these injuries, her chakra was depleted, her muscles were bathed in undying agony, and she could hardly stand on her own to feet. But she'd still die before she lost to this filth of a man.

And that was what she had to do, die. If she used the Creation Rebirth Technique taught to her by her Hokage, she would soon die due to the low levels of chakra. But as she looked into the eyes of the enemy, she made her decision.

Death

As it was, she performed her jutsu, she fought against her opponent, and she emerged victorious.

She also met death in that same hour.

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"Sir, our ninjas were attacked while approaching Amegakure."

It was a dark room, lit by only a single, dying candle. A man garbed in darkness looked down to the servant at his feet.

"Hm." Which meant, 'go on.'

"They were all defeated by one person."

Now that was interesting. Not just anybody can defy a whole army of Otonin and win. Even if they weren't the strongest ones he had.

"We identified the corpse."

"Oh," He thought, "He died. What a pity, I was going to ask him to join me."

"Her name was Haruno, Sakura."

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It is now present time. The storm clouds that foreshadowed rain became even darker still as the first few drops descended down from the heavens.

A dark haired man stood in a clearing, in which rested several hundred corpses. But he was not staring at his surroundings. No, he was focused on one thing, and one thing only.

The rain turned from a simple drizzle to pouring within minutes, but the young man did not move, even as his clothes became dripping wet and the red and white fan at his back was soaked. He was more like a statue than the many that lied dead at his feet.

But even as the weather changed, and the wind started to howl, he never took his eyes off of the body directly below him. The only body that had pink hair and once vibrant green eyes.

Sakura

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"I remember when we were Genin," Even though his voice was barely above a whisper, he could still be heard amongst the roar of the storm. "When I was still weak."

His eyes remained blank, his eyes, stoic.

"When we were still weak."

He paused almost waiting for her to answer.

"You always smiled at me, hugged me, cared for me."

"But I always called you annoying."

At this statement, he closed his eyes, not in a pained expression, but in more of a sleeping sort of manner.

"There was only one thing I didn't find annoying."

"Your eyes."

He reopened his own eyes to stare at her closed ones

His brows knotted in frustration as he stared at her.

"Why won't you open your eyes!" His voice rose until it was challenging the roar of the storm.

"I order you to open your eyes!"

He knew, he knew very well why she would not open her eyes. She never will, ever again. He knew it perfectly well.

But he just didn't want to believe it.

"Why won't they open!"

His stoic demeanor was lost now. He had fallen on his knees onto the now muddy ground below.

His eyes stung, or was it just imagination?

Lightning cracked over head but he didn't care. Why should he? What was there left to care for?

Green eyes

Like the beautiful green of spring grass

The tree's gorgeous leaves

Why can't I see them?

Because they're gone

She's gone

He bent his head down.

"I need to see your eyes." He said in a broken whisper.

Now, one cannot tell whether another is shedding tears in the rain. For how can you discern which is water from the sky, simply streaming down the face, or liquid from your eyes, descending down your cheeks?

But you can tell when one is mourning. They bend their head, grit their teeth, and their shoulders shake. No matter how hard you try, or how much you try to deny it, it has happened to everyone.

And it is happening now, to this young man.

The young man who loved her eyes

The young man that loved her

And lost her