Because I Love You
A Naruto Fic
by Japyra
It takes her an unusually long time to understand what they all meant when they said tha to her; but in the end, she does. She always will.
A/N: I little snippet to tide off all of my loyal readers who are hungry for a new story. (Which is on it's way; promise;-)
He's the first. God, he's always the first.
Her feet slide on the wet ground, gaining no leniency from the mud and skidding carelessly across the earth in an effort to reach where she saw him go down. It's raining and she swears it's because the sky is crying and why; oh why, why, why…
Her cheek slices against a branch as she carelessly runs into the throng of trees where she had been just a moment ago. Where she was supposed to be. Right before that idiot had bodily flung her to the clearing she had just left behind. Flung her away from the ninjutsu that would have, should have, hit her. Killed her. But he just had to go and be a damn noble baka and…please, oh, please, please, please…
She reaches his side in between absolutely useless and tragically desperate. There's no thought as her knees meet the earth and her hands touch his skin and her chakra connects to his. In fact, there is nothing but a frozen numbness until a soft, calloused grip wraps her fingers still and she meets those blue-on-blue eyes that shatter all thoughts into nonexistence.
He's smiling at her. Bleeding on the damn forest floor for her, and he has the nerve to smile.
She wants to hit him.
She wants to hold him.
She does neither and he keeps one hand wrapped around hers and moves the other up to her cheek, caressing it with surprising gentleness for one so brash.
She doesn't know how he found her tears in the rain.
But the hand on hers, and the smile that he has, and the darkening of those eyes as endless as skies tells her what he won't and she really doesn't think it that inappropriate to cry.
She chokes back a sob, but he hears anyway. He always hears.
"Sakura…"
And the sound of her name brings it tumbling out of her. All of the whys and pleases; and supposed to bes.
And because he is Naruto, he keeps smiling as his hand falls limp and his vision goes out; and he walks somewhere she can't follow.
"Because I love you."
He was the first one to ever say that. Always the first. Always Naruto.
There's been too much time between their lives, and yet she can't seem to escape it. So instead, she buries herself in work and training and bit by bit, breaks herself the way he broke. And eventually, she's immune to concerned glances on the street or the look of a stranger in the mirror.
The hospital always needs a medic and Sasuke still needs to be returned, and missions still need a genjustsu/medical expert with strange pink hair. And so she continues. But she never moves on.
She overloads her schedule so she never has to think during the day; and at night she keeps the dreams at bay with paperwork and books and patients.
Because if she stops, she isn't sure she'll be able to get back up again; and that isn't acceptable for a ninja of Konoha.
And it's one of these nights when her master storms in, blonde hair flying and tawny eyes alight; into her office and promptly shatters the desk with one mighty fist. The papers she had been signing scatter into the air; but she focuses instead on the woman in front of her and a soon-to-come explanation.
"You're dismissed for the night, Sakura." Her voice in firm but her words must be fought. They'll kill her.
"But, Master—" She stands up, only to meet with the stern gaze of the Hokage.
"And I give you the day off tomorrow too. I don't want you anywhere near my hospital or the training grounds."
Formalities drop. "Tsunade, why!?" Ah, it's that question again.
And suddenly she doesn't seem like the towering, hot-blooded woman Sakura has come to know. For one moment, what reflects in her eyes is something different.
The Fifth turns on her heels, and takes two steps toward the door before answering her pupil.
"Because I love you."
She doesn't have an answer to that.
She spends her day off at the Yamanaka Flower Shop because she hasn't seen Ino in too long and the flowers calm her down almost as much as the meniality of the work. At her request, the blonde gives her a hard look before conceding with an exasperated sigh and muttering about 'big-headed masochists'. Sakura doesn't pick up the jibe. There is an eternity between her and the girl with an overlarge forehead. Instead, she buries herself in the back of the nursery. Her calloused hands revel in the feel of mulch sliding between her fingers and the domestic-exotic aroma the blossoms create. The green windows give the room a twilight feel and here, away from scrutiny and work and life; she finds herself stealing a moment of peace.
She smiles as she packs the wet soil firmly into neat little pots and sticks flowers into them with the roots deep in the container and the stem straight out. This kind of work is her favorite. There is no thought, no sacrafice; none of the morale grayness that she had become accustomed to in her line as a kunoichi. No one dies when she plants; no one needs her. It is simple. And she relishes it for that reason.
But there is also the simple joy of nurturing life. Even something as small as a plant requires careful hands. It needs the dedication to be watered, the concern to be placed in the sun, and the kindness of the planter to grow. Sakura can do this. She can save the flowers.
After all, she was born a healer. The blood and carnage was simply a mishap of fate. Becoming a kunoichi was a random glitch in the plans of the gods. A killer healer. Or perhaps their sense of ironic humor.
Ino mans the desk and occassionaly shouts back orders so Sakura carefully selects the flowers and cuts them just the right size and wraps them in the delicate, complimentary paper and hopes whoever gets them finds their happiness in life.
And at the end of the day there is dirt under her nails and a soft smile on her face. She hears Ino switching the sign and cleaning up front as she sweeps the back floor and finishes her work. She is disrupted by a sudden thud on the table in front of her. She looks at the plant and follows up the hand attached to it until she meets cornflower blue eyes. She looks down again; and Ino makes an impatient noise in the back of her throat and stalks away.
"Wait!" She calls, watching her friend stop, hands on her hips with feigned impatience. "What is this?"
The other girl sighs and flips her hair; rolling her eyes. "It's for you of course; stupid."
Green eyes blink. "Wah? But, Why--"
Ino doesn't stop this time as she throws a look over her shoulder at her best friend.
"Because!"
Sakura glances back down at the careful pot and the beautiful red petals curving outward in a star-like pattern; delicate leaves daintly atop a stern petal.
They are red chrysanthenums; and suddenly she remembers lessons from the Yamanaka matriarch when she was merely a girl and things like the meaning of flowers held so much weight.
Red Chyrsanthenums- I love you.
"Because-I love you."
She clutches the plant to her breast and silently mourns the years they spent fighting over an uncatchable prize. After all, they are best friends.
Kakashi and she have sparred over the years, and even after Naruto's death; when they can't find the right words to say to each other any more, the habit and shear physicality of a duel suits them fine. You can say with your actions what your tongue fails to describe.
They punch in sorry and legs fly to it's not you're fault. Fingers form hand-signs with double-meanings of you look like you had a hard day, is there anything I can do; and jutsus flare to life under it's alright. I'll survive another night.
Because Kakashi's never been great with sentiments and Sakura's too tired to try anymore, they spar.
But she's begun to realize something.
While she fights; she uses her chakra-infused punches and nerve-severing medical ninjutsu; and even throws in the occasional genjutsu when he looks particularly haggard on their days. She throws herself into the battle because she knows he can take it; knows her limits and his like the back of her hand, and that makes it ok. Because he'll never die from her and she'll never kill him.
She's seen him fight enough to understand that her sensei is not a friendly opponent. She's seen him evade with the grace of an acrobat and knows what his sculpted features appear like when cast under the hue of the chidori; and how the red of the single sharringan contrasts with his silver hair. She knows all these things like she knows the bluebird that wakes her every morn is the one she rescued and knows that it's ok because she can take it. She'll never die by him and he'll never kill her. But she wonders if he knows this.
Because even after she's detached the nerves in his legs; he won't unhook the strap and gaze at her with that red eye. And even when her fists strike his waist and crack a rib, he won't smolder her against the chidori. Instead he flips with that casual grace and graps her in incapacitating postures or tosses a handful of well-aimed shuriken; and even the occasional homeless ninjutsu is seen.
But he's holding back. Because she knows him like she knows the river runs south. At first she wonders if it is simply the way he spars. So she does what she does best and observes.
Only to watch him unleash the chidori in a duel with Asuma, who of course, dodged it.
She confronts him the next day.
"Use the sharringan on me."
"…I'll do fine without it."
"Kakashi!"
"Why Sakura?"
"Because…because I need to know that you understand I'm not going to break."
And because it's him he feigns innocent. But she persists because it's her and she is nothing if not used to fighting a losing battle and he relents because he knows she can't lose much more. She's only a child, after all.
So instead, Kakashi folds his orange-covered book away; and tugs his mask down to reveal the coveted stretch of marble skin and thin, fine-lipped mouth. He walks toward his female student; hands clenched, head down in anger; and kisses the top of her head where the darkening pink roots sprout. His gloved hands come forward to touch her shoulder warmly and it is the most affection the man has shown anyone in many years.
And it makes her want to cry.
Or punch him. She's not sure.
He steps away, that sad little half-smile on his face.
"Because I love you."
His mask slips back on.
He has become her constant shadow. If a shadow could wear lucrative green spandex and have its teeth outshine the sun, that is.
Rock Lee was his self-declared protector when Team Seven was still just that, a team. When Sasuke, and later, Naruto, left he went out of his way to be in her presence.
After Naruto's funeral; he glued himself to her side.
Years before she would have (secretly) reveled in this attention. It would have been a game. She would pretend to be irritated by his constant attentions and would only toss a bone every once in a while to the pining boy. For his part, he bravely took every rejection for those moments when she (giggling) conceded his request for dinner or spar or 'enjoying the springtime of their youth'.
But this was not that time, and she was not the girl of before. And this was most certainly not a game. She politely (but seriously) rejected every one of his askances for her company. She did not throw him a measure of encouragement, or tease him cruelly.
Instead, she chatted with him if they ran into each other (a rather frequent occurrence) on the street; and occasionally agreed to a friendly match because he was, she never failed to admit, a more than adequate shinobi. When they went on missions, she worked well with him; and if he was injured, she healed him without thinking.
But this straightforwardness should have been a much more powerful deterrent than all the teasing and games in the world because if she was any more obvious she would have tattooed: Just friends with Rock Lee on every part of her body.
Because she knew he would always want something more. Something she couldn't give.
Like tonight, as he's escorted her home from the local pub, after she's tried washing away bittersweet memories with her master's favorite sake. She's drunk and pale and wobbly; and yet he calmly carries (he refused to let a 'fair maiden walk in such a condition') her while babbling on about Gai's latest conquest and his competition with Neji. His hands do not stray from their spot; but they warm her thighs and her head rests against his collarbone and it's all so-lovingly done that it hurts.
So she scrambles out of his grasp and he let's her go for fear of hurting her. She staggers, and needs his ready hand to stabilize herself.
"Sakura, what is wrong? Do you feel ill? I have heard that alcohol poisoning is most serious. If need be, I can run you to—"
She stomps her foot. She must be five. "STOP IT! Just Stop it Lee!"
She's silenced him; but it's not enough. It's never enough for him.
The alcohol is in her system and the frustration welds in her until hot tears escape. "Don't you understand? I don't know how to be any clearer but, God, I must be doing something wrong and it's all too cruel, so stop!
He is so damn confused she wants to laugh.
"Sa—"
"I don't love you Lee!" She'll have to break him to save him. "I can't love you Lee," Her shoulder's shake and she meets his sad, dark eyes. "Don't you understand that?"
Because it's not him, it's her; and that's the honest truth.
Her words cut him, but he manages to hold her up before she falls again and looks uncharacteristically somber.
"I know."
"Then…" The words are hard for her to form because she's suddenly aware that he is male, and older than her, and a shinobi; too.
"Because I love you."
It's been too many years and she's wanted to give up but couldn't because the blonde idiot had wanted this so much, and she has to at least give him that wish.
She stands before this man and more than ever, knows that she's lost herself to this life. She can no longer find the her that loved him—that naive, optimistic child. Instead, she sees his name in the Bingo Book, she sees a scratch in a forehead protector. She knows there is blood on his hands. So much blood. And among those people there is Orochimaru, the snake sanin; and Itachi, the traitor.
But there is blood on her hands too.
It took three months of recon and two of tracking to locate him; but after years; she stands before her ex-teammate. And that is all either of them do for a moment, stand and stare.
She wonders, briefly, what he sees when looking at her with those fathomless dark eyes.
"It's been a while…Sakura." His voice is deep and cool and sultry when it breaks the silence.
She nods minutely. "It has, Sasuke. Congratulations on completing your goal."
One delicate brow arches at her words, but she doesn't elude to a tone and he smoothes it over quickly. "It's been such a long time; I thought you had given up."
She smiles at this, her lips quirking slightly in memory. "Sorry, I got lost on the road of life."
And this man standing before her manages to have a slight smirk that tells her he remembers too. "When did your compass become as poor as Kakashi's? I expected more of you, Sakura."
"I suppose it went eschew after it lost what it was pointing to." In spire of herself, she had to withhold a laugh at his belittling glare.
"That was pathetic."
"Says the kid who wouldn't eat anything but tomatoes for lunch."
"And what exactly is wrong with tomatoes?"
"Nothing, Picky, Pampered, Prince Uchiha."
It's the strangest thing in the world and she knows it won't last. In a minute, they'll remember that they're adults, and ninja, and enemies.
But right now they're twelve and teasing and together.
And in those words, Sakura finds herself again. She collects the pieces even as his shuriken flies at her and she uses a kunai to block. In the flare of steel-on-steel; she remembers how proud she had been of both her sensei and that boy when he mastered chidori.
She flips into the air, narrowly escaping a fire jutsu and sending off a number of tagged shuriken as counter. She remembers how, even as enemies, when this rift first began, how he never looked down on Naruto for his demon chakra. Naruto was a dobe, a baka, and an overall loser. But he was Naruto. Never Kyuubi.
He's fast; but after getting within close-range with the green-eyed kunoichi and getting all the bones shattered on one arm and several nerves dislocated in his leg; he keeps his distance.
She remembers the first time he lost against Rock Lee, and how her idol was suddenly human. Human, and childish, and snappish, and…
His blade slits her arm and she barely escapes.
…cute.
And in between blocking and throwing; attacking and defending; Sakura finds herself again.
She remembers her naivety was allowed because Naruto protected her.
She knows that her childishness lasted due to Kakashi's belated paternity.
She admits that her determination formed under Tsunade's belief.
She thanks Lee for the fact that she has never known loneliness.
And Sasuke…
She stops suddenly, and he doesn't; just as she's known it would be. She watches as he runs her through with his katana, the beautiful red eyes her sensei would never use against her; registering mild surprise.
And then his face scrunches in that displeased way it always did and she knows now, more than ever, that even after all this he is still Sasuke.
"Why did you stop?" He asked after a moment, sliding his katana easily out of her and watching as she made no effort to summon the green chakra that could save her life. He crumbles next to her in a moment, the poisoned shuriken she had gripped already imbedded in his shoulder.
They're both dying and he knows it.
Instead of answering, she shifts her body against the pain so she's cradling his head on her legs. He doesn't bother to resist. Red fades to black and dark eyes bore into her; quiet until he feels her hand remove the shuriken.
The green light swirls to life.
He frowns as she heals him, his smooth brow lining.
"Sakura, why—" She shushes him with her fingers, giving a lopsided smile.
Why, why, why… that's always the question; isn't it?
She's fading fast, but she's gotten damn good over the years. There's enough poison extracted that he'll live for a few more hours. It's long enough.
Still quiet, she pulls the crystal pendant from her neck and loops it around his ivory skin, nestling it at the base of ebony hair.
"I'll become Hokage some day!" Naruto.
Next, she unhooks a black fabric mask from her hip and wraps it up so it hold his bangs back, allowing his smooth face to be seen easier.
"Do you want to know what's under the mask?" Kakashi.
In his pocket she slides a bottle of sake.
"It's not easy; being my student." Tsunade.
From her breast pocket, she retrieves a dried red blossom, still saturated with color even after all this time.
"You'd look prettier if you stopped trying to hide it." Ino.
And finally, she opens a pouch of chocolate bon-bons and slips one of the alcoholic treats into his shuriken holster, emptying it of its previous contents.
"I, Rock Lee, pledge my life to you." Lee.
The four people who acted to mold her. Who acted through love for her.
She was going quickly.
"Return to Konoha—don't open your mouth, prince." He glared at her, but seemed to feel ok with humoring her before death. "Show them everything I just gave you; the medics there have the antidote and they will treat you. I promise. It won't be pleasant, but you'll be allowed to live in Konoha. So return, ok, Sasuke?"
He didn't ask her again, but his eyes spoke for him.
She smiled beatifically for him. All the love I have been given; Sasuke, I give unto you. Live well with it.
But instead of saying that, she knelt down and kissed him; already following the distant silhouette of a blonde-haired boy.
"Because I love you."
He stood beside her gravestone alone and felt his lips quirking in a smile.
She lived for the people who loved her.
They let him re-enter Konoha because it had been her wish; he already knew that.
She died for the one she loved.
Sasuke shook his head and breathed. It was alright though; because he already knew why he returned to his home with a pink-haired corpse in his arms.
Because I love you.
Sakura.
A combination of random words, depressing music, and dying mums in the background of my house. What do you think?