As the setting sun gazes upon the abandoned land, its last rays of warmth and light illuminate a few patches of grass. There are but a couple of spots on the dry ground in this wasteland where the green hides, shying away from prying eyes. Yet as soon as the rays touch the slender blades, they glimmer impressively, as if they are flirting with the sun.
A lone figure stands in the middle of the clearing, surveying its surroundings. In the soothing smile of the sun, it appears to look more as a shadow, wrapped in a dark cloak and standing so still. There are no animals, no plants in sight. Even the wind has calmed, silently contemplating the sight before its eyes.
The whole ground is covered with dead bodies. Men, mostly. Some are fathers, maybe brothers, sons. However what they share in common, is the blood – their blood – that has now covered the few patches of grass that survived. Survived the battle that took place in this forest, the battle that made it no longer a forest, just a barren battlefield.
The figure starts moving, carefully avoiding stepping on the corpses. While it seems that the figure is on guard, there is slight urgency in its footsteps. After a few moments, it reaches its goal, which appears to be a body of a man with splendid silver hair, lying still in the dirt. The figure kneels and its cloak billows underneath it, the crimson clouds on it an uncanny replica of the clouds in the sky. It fingers the man's neck, as if searching for something and then places both hands over the gaping hole in his chest without any trace of hesitation.
A couple of seconds pass and the figure's hands start emitting a mesmerizing light, the color of an emerald. Suddenly, the wind picks up again and with it a sound of a chiming bell soars across the land. The figure, however, takes no notice of this and continues holding its hands on the man's chest. Only when the sun has already set does the figure remove its hands, sighing contently. The hole in the man's chest is no longer and the figure now places one hand on the man's forehead, stroking it soothingly.
The man is covered with blood from head to toe. His once fern green vest is now barely recognizable, even his silver hair has obtained a reddish shade. He also has numerous bruises and cuts all over his body, some shallow, some deep. For a moment, he seems to be just as dead as he was before, but then he stirs, small tremors coursing through his arms and legs. The figure stops stroking his forehead, its hand glowing emerald again. This time, the man wrinkles his brow and slowly opens his eyes, his gaze blurry and unfocused.
The figure resumes stroking his forehead, silently beckoning him back to the world of the living.
"Honestly, Kakashi. You have more lives than a cat," the figure finally whispers.
Narrowing his eyes, the man tries to focus yet again, but the figure's face is hard to make out. Whoever it is, they're wearing a chin-high black collar and also have a large conical straw hat on, making it hard to see anything behind it. As if reading the man's thoughts, the figure raises the aforementioned hat with its thumb enough to reveal a couple of concerned jade green eyes. Disbelievingly, the man stares at the figure in front of him, his pulse becoming erratic.
"Am I dead?" he slurs, unexplainable pain spreading in his chest. "Because I don't mind, if you're here too."
"You're as alive as I am, I'm afraid," the figure states, voice wary but a hint of glee also present. "It also seems like you're going to outlive us all, really."
Hatake Kakashi was never a man easily surprised. The emotions he experienced right at that moment, though, would be hard to describe even for him. Naturally, he feels grateful to be alive and yet it is also the last thing on his mind as he reaches out for the stranger's masked face, his hand shaking.
"S-Sa..." It's difficult saying the name again, it seems, after all those years. "Sakura," he manages.
To think that the first person he would see after coming back from the land of the dead is his own supposedly-dead student. His hand finally connects with her cheek and she doesn't flinch away. Moreover, she places her own palm over his trembling hand, steadying it in place. "How have you been, my dear friend?" she asks quietly, her gaze soft and caring.
"That's one hell of a question there," he replies, trying hard to contain himself. "Especially for a half-dead man, who thinks he is looking at a ghost."
"I looked around a bit, saw a lot of familiar faces," she continues vaguely. "None of them I recognized, though. Wasn't Genma with you? Or Kurenai?" His hand is still over her cheek but she doesn't seem to notice.
"No, Genma and-" he coughs, suddenly aware of how dry his throat is. "Genma was ordered to stay in Konoha. I'm not sure about the others."
She unclasps a couple of buttons of her cloak and digs inside it, looking for something. The object of her attention seems to be a scroll which she retrieves shortly and then produces a large blanket out of nowhere. "So I take it Naruto is well?" she asks somewhat detachedly, proceeding to wrap him in the blanket.
"Sakura..." When she was a little girl, he had no trouble telling when she was feeling uncomfortable about something. Now he isn't so sure about what he sees anymore. "Yes, I think he is well," he echoes.
"That's good," she says.
Haruno Sakura. Long gone are the times when calling her "his student" satisfied him. Years passed and the tiny pink-haired ruckus developed into something completely different. A reliable ally, a formidable foe and also, a woman of great beauty. And he stood always by her side, looking over her, supporting her, then – working with her. She was his student, yes, but it didn't stop there. Gradually, she became his friend, his family, his loved one. And just like that, he awoke one day to find her gone.
"Where were you?" he whispers. There are so many things he wants to ask her, to tell her. Why did you leave? What did you do? Why didn't you come back? What happened?
She doesn't answer. Then, she rises slowly from where she sits beside him and kneels, her face directly above his. Her expression is unreadable, but she allows her eyes to convey emotion that she could never put in to words. Placing her hands on each side of his face, she slowly bends lower until their lips touch. She smells just wonderful and the heat she emanates is akin to the one he remembers so well.
"Thank you for being alive," she says simply as his heart beats loudly in his ears. She still tastes the same.
She stares at him for a while and then stands abruptly. "Lie there for a moment, I'll bring some water over," she says.
Right before she slips out of sight, he thinks he sees red clouds painted on her cloak.
She has already been discovered, she thinks, as she remembers the tugging sensation she felt while she was with Kakashi. Honestly, she should be baffled right now, for the probability of an enemy sensing her presence from such a distance is non-existent. However, there is one person she knows of that could possibly accomplish such a long-range scout and that is why she is alert rather then puzzled. This person is currently someone associated with her former teammate Uchiha Sasuke, possibly a subordinate, working in his team.
She stops in the middle of a small clearing and proceeds to find a relatively comfortable rock to sit on. She is now satisfied with the amount she has distanced herself from the battlefield and calmly registers the fact that the four guests she was expecting have now narrowed down to one. Thinking over a couple of possibilities, she comes to the conclusion that the other three were probably ordered to continue heading towards the designated spot. Either that, or they were sent to scout ahead. This brings a small smile to her face.
He has not changed a bit. After getting close enough to sense her, he immediately deduced that she was far stronger than her chakra signature suggested. Upon realizing this, he chose to dispose of his teammates, just like when he was a child. He always thought – and no matter what he says, he still does think – that companions are a nuisance. Prefers to do it himself, trusts no one – that is all that you need to accurately describe Uchiha Sasuke.
She sighs, her head resting against the bark of a tree. How exactly is she going to deal with him? Talking is not really an option, seeing as how she is wearing her full attire. As soon as he lays his eyes upon her, he'll demand information about his brother and threaten to kill her. Or just try to kill her. She could change but it's too damn chilly outside and it wouldn't really do any good, especially if he has heard about her disappearance.
Sighing yet again, she notes his presence just outside the clearing she is situated in. Fighting is probably inevitable, but that doesn't make it any less troublesome. Suppressing one last sigh, she picks herself up from the rock, just as Uchiha Sasuke casually strolls into the clearing.
Well, obviously, he still has that ridiculously large amount of self-esteem. Some things just never change.
He also hasn't obtained the habit of striking a conversation first, it seems, for he simply stands in silence, staring at her, calculating. She is sure she's leaking enough chakra for him to tell that she's not Itachi, but she is also pretty sure he does not recognize her. Not many people would, anyway.
He reaches for his sword. "I require information regarding Uchiha Itachi," he announces.
Surprise, surprise.
"Doesn't everybody?" she replies, raising an eyebrow at his somewhat polite tone. She isn't going to tell him anything and he knows it. It's a wonder he still bothers to ask.
He smirks and disappears out of sight.
He is behind her and she bends forward to dodge his sword, immediately sticking out her legs backwards as she aims for his chest. He blocks her jump by crossing his arms and lets go of the kusanagi, catching her ankles with both of his hands. Wasting no time, he spins her around, throwing her in to the air and aiming a punch at her abdomen. The punch lands but she manages to block most of it by forcing out some chakra, then taking a firm hold of his arm and throwing him over her as soon as her feet connect with the ground.
She must admit he has acquired the power he was always seeking as she watches him land gracefully. His appearance hasn't changed much. He certainly is taller and it is easy to guess in whose care he has been spending his time from his wardrobe, but his hair still sticks up at the same odd angle. Maybe it is because she knows him personally he seems the same. For a moment, she ponders how he would react if she revealed her identity.
"Why do you bother hiding his whereabouts?" he asks suddenly. "Your colleague previously mentioned that confidentiality regarding one another was never part of your assignments."
Deidara, huh.
Judging by the way his eyes momentarily dart to the side, he wants his sword back.
"It is true that we have never taken an oath to not disclose information about other members," she leisurely begins, stepping towards the weapon. She just happens to think this kusanagi is gorgeous and intends to examine it up close. "But wouldn't you agree that doing so would be disrespectful?"
"Respect amongst thieves and assassins?" he remarks snidely, glaring at her. "Quite hard to believe."
She pulls the sword out of the ground and holds it in front of her, its blade shimmering slightly. "Perhaps," she replies. Then she stabs the earth about two feet to her left, the chakra-coated blade sinking all the way in to the hilt. Her movement is accompanied by a number of thuds as the Sasuke in front of her melts into snakes of different variety.
"Genjutsu, Uchiha Sasuke-san," she states matter-of-factly, turning around to face her former teammate. "Was not a smart move." There is a deep cut on his shoulder now, but to him it is irrelevant as he watches her unflinchingly with his Sharingan. This may not have been a part of his calculations, but it is not an obstacle he cannot overcome.
The sound of chirping birds pierces the silence and he lounges forward, Chidori illuminating his face with ghostly light. Nowadays, he can manipulate the deadly current any way he desires, she has seen it before. He is astoundingly fast as she ducks out of range, the smell of singed fabric entering her nostrils. Any more determination on his part and she will be forced to take this seriously. She has no more time to play.
Chidori is now a sword and she avoids being hit by the strong, slashing movements he makes. What she doesn't expect is when he comes at her with the kusanagi in his other hand, having apparently retrieved it earlier. She spins, feeling its cold blade graze her upper arm and her fist connects cleanly with his abdomen. This time her punch contains chakra, which sends him flying through the air as she appears behind him, catches the back of his clothes and slams him into the ground. She rams her knee into his chest, using one hand to hold down one of his arms and the other to press a kunai against his throat.
As the dust around them settles, she feels satisfied with their match as he calmly holds his sword menacingly close to her neck, eyeing her coolly. His growth is not enough to beat him, but it might prove to be enough to persuade him to tell Sasuke his story. Just like at that time, when he told her.
"What you seek," she says, grabbing his attention immediately. "Is about a hundred and seventy-five kilometers southwest of this clearing." She isn't too specific. Telling him everything would be simply boring, now, wouldn't it.
She eases herself off him, ignoring the suspicion apparent in his eyes. This is exactly why she hates being a messenger. People are so doubtful these days, jeez. She hears him standing up as she begins to walk away, her back to him, examining what is left of her cloak.
"What is your name?" he asks abruptly, his tone containing traces of agitation. The same tone she used to hear when he spoke to his chosen opponents when he was younger.
She has to control the smile that tugs at the corner of her lips and she wonders. She tries to find an explanation for her own actions as her hand automatically reaches for her hat, slowly lifting it off her head. The bell tinkles while she watches him, the man she had once sworn to bring back to Konoha, a country she can no longer call home. Something within her has changed, it seems, for the beating of her heart is as steady as it was before, no trace of butterflies in her stomach unlike some years ago.
"Haruno Sakura," she answers, her gaze confident.
Honestly, she often has a hard time figuring herself out, she thinks, placing her hat back on. And now, what on earth should she come up with to explain why getting water took so long?
Maybe she'll tell Kakashi she got lost on the road of life.
End.
01-06-08, 16:02.