Fable, a naruto fanfic

Diggin through my old files and I found this old one-shot. Decided to finish it, but I'm too tired to proof read it now, so please ignore any mistakes until I correct them. I actually don't know if this can be classified as angst - but I can't find any genre that sounds sad enough, so angst it is!

First SasuSaku story in a while aaaah I missed them

Fable

There was a fable, one that his mother liked to recite quite frequently to him when he was a child, about a blessed creature who healed injured ninjas. She hid herself inside the trunk of a magical sakura tree, one that never lost its flowers, one that was eternally in bloom and stunning. The creature needs to be convinced, and persuading her into helping you was a very difficult task, and once your cuts are gone and your bones are mended, you must give her something in return.

While his mother's words reverberated in his mind, Uchiha Sasuke found himself glaring at a lonely sakura tree on top of a hill and questioning his sanity.

Although he once enjoyed listening to his mother's stories, now she was long gone and so was his five years old mind, hence he found it so hard to believe that a girl would leap out of the tree trunk and heal each wound scattered across his body. But it was winter, and the fragile flowers were still there; why not take a chance?

His feet carried him forward and he stopped before he could walk under its shade, the unusually bright sun burning his scalp. Sasuke let his eyes wander up and down the trunk, an eyebrow gradually arching as he slowly realized he was letting himself believe in a tale told to little kids. Frowning, he glared holes into the tree and turned on his heels to leave the place and carry on with his life. Wounds be damned, he would let them heal on their own.

And they would have healed in an excruciating slow pace had not a root suddenly latched itself around his ankle.

Glancing over his shoulder, Sasuke looked at the tree as if daring it to prove he was not going crazy – and once he realized he was asking a plant to tell him if he was still sane, he wanted to beat himself up out of frustration. A face was being carved in the wood and the last Uchiha fully turned around to watch the transformation with slightly wide eyes.

After the face was completely carved, he could see the outlines of her body forming as the creature slowly molded herself out of the tree trunk. Sasuke would have imagined the creature some curvaceous and promiscuous woman, and to his surprise, she was petite and seemingly one head shorter than him. She fully stepped out and away from the tree, flowers rained down and latched onto her head, long hair consisted of sakura flowers flowing in the gentle breeze as she walked forward to meet him. Her skin was of pure wood, her hair of cherry blossoms, eyes hollow as she stared into his soul.

She stretched her arm, index fingers pointing at his face as small, thin roots grew from her fingertips and twisted their way up his arms, torso and neck, a faint green light shining from where they touched. Sasuke could feel his skin stretching under the roots, closing the wounds and gashes, stopping the bleeding, purple spots were quickly healed; his skin was unmarked, untainted. His dark eyes locked with hers, and he winced at the strong pressure on his ring finger.

Looking down at his hands, her roots loosened and retreated, leaving an angry mark around his finger. "Once you're done," it took him some time to realize she was talking – her voice was sweet and melodic, as expect from someone magical, "you're going to devote your life to me." A whirlwind, the fragile flowers that composed her hair scattered about and she was sucked into the trunk, disappearing from his sight.

Once the cherry blossoms settled, he stroked the sensitive skin of his finger, noticing how it ached, and pondering over her words he realized that she left on him an engagement mark.

It took him years, but at least now he could sleep peacefully. He had his chance; he used it wisely, and had avenged his family. There was no feeling of pride – Sasuke still was alone in the world; no mother, no father, no brother, no clan. He would have to start everything from scratch.

In his journey he met some old acquaintances. A blond guy who babbled about his dream, his silver haired teacher who read erotic books in public, a common friend of theirs who happened to know the guy he killed – a sennin. The last Uchiha went up the hill, hand shielding his eyes from the hot summer sun; they told him to go back to Konoha, told him he would have to go through a trial and then he would be free.

Free? Define free.

Once at the top, he half expected to see her there, standing before her three like she had many times before. He would be lying if he said he didn't return to her when he was badly injured, and he would be lying if he said he didn't appreciate her help – after all, she is the reason why it took him less time than planned and expected.

But she wasn't there, so he stood before the sakura tree waiting for her to come out, but she never did. Hours passed and he grew tired; he sat and lied on the grass, watched the clouds above and contemplated if he really should stay or go – the mark on his finger was fading, there was no reason for him to stay and keep his 'promise'. Sasuke sat up after what seemed like hours; his neck hurt and so did his back.

Roots wrapped around his ankles as he stood up, and he twisted his torso to look back at the tree and sigh when he saw the face being carved in the wood again. The flowers showered from the tree top, raining down on him and swirling around his body before they floated towards her. They latched to her head and melted, cascading behind her back in a waterfall of pink locks. The creature fully stepped out of the trunk, her skin gradually lost its wood texture and color, shifting into fair, soft skin.

And her eyes weren't hollow anymore; they were as green as the leaves of her tree, framed by dark and thick eyelashes and so, so enchanting.

"I'm ready to go." The moment these words left her lips, the tree died – every cherry blossom, every leaf fell and floated to the ground, the trunk turned an odd shade of grayish brown – and she didn't seem fazed by it. Sasuke nodded, warned her that it was a long way to Konoha, but she shrugged and followed him – after centuries of being trapped there, she really needed to stretch her legs.

Sasuke learned that she was named after the cherry tree and it didn't surprise him in the least. It surprised him, though, when she had no objections about reviving his clan. Sakura was serene and peaceful, not even Naruto's loud mouth could piss her off, and she treated him like a younger brother, watching over him and tending to his wounds.

Their ceremony followed his clan tradition and yet again she didn't voice any objections. Every day, as she kissed him good morning and good night, hardly ever getting any reaction from him, he wondered why she had chosen him to marry her. But most importantly he wondered why she helped him that one time years ago before he could even request for her help; he stood before her tree for a moment and she willingly stepped out to his aid. The only thing she wanted in return was to marry him, and he wouldn't throw this opportunity away when he needed someone to wed as well.

The first baby came. He looked exactly like his father, dark hair and eyes, fair skin, but Sasuke was sure he could see her nose in his son's face. And then came twins, both boys, and just like him as well. And one day Sasuke left for a long mission, leaving his wife and his three children, only to find that when he returned there was another mini version of him toddling around the Uchiha Manor – but this time it was a girl. The fifth and last son looked exactly like her, in absolutely everything.

Sakura spent her days helping at the hospital, using her magic to heal badly injured people, and raising her kids, telling them the fable of the cherry tree every night and they never grew tired of it. She was okay with this life and she never talked back to Sasuke, she hardly ever raised her voice. Her husband would say she was submissive, but there was something in her eyes that told him that, truthfully, she wasn't. He noticed how sometimes her jaw tensed, how her eyebrow twitched for half a second, but she swallowed down her annoyance and kept that cheerful small smile on her face.

It had been like this since the start.

Years passed. Their kids grew older, graduated and went on their first missions. Their mother was always there to bid them goodbye, no matter how embarrassing they thought it was, but none of them had the heart to tell her to stop. And she was always at the gates waiting for them, and she would take the whole team for dinner and pay everything, and talk to him and fawn over her children and their friends. She was a mother to those who didn't have one; her heart was big enough to house the whole population of Konoha.

Then the former Hokage – head of the Konoha Hospital, a close friend to Sakura – died, and the pinkette knew the time was coming, but she swallowed down her tears and tried not to let her eyes lose their sparkle – there still was some time for her.

Her children grew, got married and blessed her with grandchildren, and she stood among them, still young and beautiful and proud of her kids, pink hair shining and eyes crinkled in a never ending smile. And Sasuke always watched from afar, always wondering her motives to choosing him, her motives for staying in Konoha and being the mother of their children.

There were times in which he showed small signs of affection, especially now that his hair was graying and she was as young as he could remember. The population stared in awe at her; from the beginning they knew who and what she was, but they never expected her to be immortal, not outside her shield, her home, her tree – and they were surprised by her devotion and unwavering loyalty to the once last Uchiha.

One day, he didn't wake up. Sakura spent an hour beside his still body, gently caressing his (now cold) face and weeping silently at her loss. It was in times like this that she wished she was a regular person and not some ethereal being. She kissed his knuckles, placing his hand on his chest before getting up from their bed, and silently went outside to tell her kids. Sakura left them alone, walking all the way to the Hokage tower to tell their close friends, and waited in the living room of her home as they bid their farewells to the already gone Sasuke.

He was buried in the graveyard and she went there every day for the next two years to deliver flowers and to keep him updated on their lives. Her children and grandchildren could feel how much of a loss it was for her, even though she kept it carefully hidden. It was like her soul was slowly crumbling and she was on the verge of losing herself.

In one morning, when their only daughter decided to visit their mother, she nearly cried out when she realized the house was empty. The five siblings then packed their bags and left on their own mission, walking for days and days towards their destination. And there she was, alive and beautiful and in full bloom, pink cherry blossoms gently flowing in the wind under the bright blue sky. They kneeled before the tree, saying their goodbyes to their mother who had returned to her slumber, and they would return years later with their kids, and their kids would bring their own, and so the tradition of visiting the sakura tree would go on until one day no one would come anymore.

The tree was the reason why the Uchiha clan didn't die, it was the reason why there still was a clan to talk about. The creature inhabiting the tree was the first Uchiha mother in a long, long time and her tale would go on, even though no one ever paid her visits anymore.

Sakura, while still sleeping soundly, would dream every day about this sick cycle she got herself into: wait for the birth of an Uchiha boy, wait for him to come to her in his lifetime, force him into marriage if they ever met and make him fall for her, over and over, again and again, until he died and she was left alone for the thousandth time, and she would return to her tree and sleep for another thousand years and wait and pray for him to come back to her.

The day she woke up was the day he was born, and she would wait, albeit impatiently, for him to cross paths with her again.