The Lone Lakeside Blossom.
So he had come back. She thought she had gotten past it. But the mere sight of him brought old, suppressed emotions flooding back. The word was that he had indeed killed his brother. That he had escaped Orochimaru's clutches once he had avenged his clan.
It had been hard for her to welcome him back. She was still hurt, still angry. She saw that even Naruto felt that way.
But he had changed. He was as silent as ever, but he was always around the blond ninja. Still, he hardly ever spoke to her.
That's one thing about Sasuke that hasn't changed, Sakura thought to herself.
Over a year had passed since his return and it seemed that everything had gone back to normal. Except that now she did not know exactly how she felt towards him. The old infatuation had sprung up again and it was intermingled with the hurt and anger that still had not died away.
Lately the pink chuunin had taken to having late night walks when she could be alone with her thoughts. Tonight, she found herself once again walking by the dark lake. Then, for what seemed like hours, gazing onto the water's calm surface, the moon and the starlight dancing on the dark glass.
She heard footsteps behind her and she spun round in alarm, only to find a dark haired young man approaching the lake. But he only stood quietly beside her, gazing, not at the dancing lights, but into the dark depths of the water, lost in thought.
He would not blame her for being angry. He had hurt her after all. He had been an arrogant boy, hungry for power and revenge. The night he had been leaving while she stood there weeping silent tears; on that fateful night, he had meant only two words: thank you.
She was prettier than any other girl he had known. She was also intelligent. She was very feminine in almost every aspect. (Though there was a harsh side of her character — Naruto was almost always victim to that.)
When he had dared to come back, he had expected them all to rage, expected Naruto to fly at him and kill him, expected Sakura to do the same.
How could she accept him now after all the hurt he had inflicted on her? No. She would never accept him. She would not let him into her heart. Not after what he had done.
The night was growing old and her mind was growing weary. She had known from the moment he had arrived that he would not speak to her. Even she was not sure she wanted to speak to him. Perhaps she didn't want to at all. No. She didn't. She was too angry. And the more she thought about it, the angrier she became. Then why was she still standing here?
He saw her out of the corner of his eye. She was turning to leave. Her sad green eyes sparkling in the starlight. He had walked away from her once. She had not lost him that night, all those years ago. He had lost her. He had been blinded by revenge. But now that his eyes were opened, was he going to lose her again? He could not let that happen. But would she still love him?
She felt a hand grab her wrist as she walked away from the lake. She turned slowly to gaze into his dark eyes. There was a different look there. One she had not seen before.
But he saw anger in her eyes. The look on her face was one that he could not understand. She looked ready to hit him. Yet she stayed still. She did not move. She did not say anything.
For several moments, they just stood there, staring; neither comprehending to look on the other's face.
His hand was warm. And yet, he felt her shivering. Was it with cold — or anger? Even she did not know. She could not stop it.
She wanted to shout at him, to hit him, hurt him. Give him a taste of the pain she had nursed all these long years. She wanted him to know. She wanted him to feel pain. Even just physical pain. Inflicting bodily pain on him would let him feel at least a drop of the ache in her heart. She wanted him to feel pain. She wanted him to ache, to feel what she had felt. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to vent all her frustration, anger, pain on him. She wanted …
She could not look at him. She averted her gaze, choosing to look instead at a lone flower nearby.
He did not know what to do. His hand still grasped her cold wrist. Perhaps he shouldn't have held her back, stopped her from leaving. He did not know what to do.
She looked away. He saw the tears welling up in her eyes. Tears of anger. Anger. Her eyes were bright with it. But she did not let them flow. She held her composure.
How long had they been standing there? How long had she been standing here before he came? How many nights had she come out here all alone while he had gone on a selfish pursuit of power and revenge.
No. He did not deserve her. She deserved better than him. There had been others, Naruto had been a better, more loyal, friend than he had ever been. He was unworthy. She could leave if she wanted. She could do whatever she pleased.
He let go of her wrist, and keeping his head low, stuffed his hands into his pockets.
She felt the warmth around her wrist vanish. He had let go of her. She let her arm fall to her side, still not looking at him. A cold breeze blew. But the iciness she felt had nothing to do with the wind. She was no longer shivering.
Now a part of her anger had been replaced by fear. A fear of the past repeating itself. A fear that he would walk away again.
"You can go," she heard him say.
She looked up, but could no longer se his face, which was hidden by the shadows of his dark hair. She dropped her gaze again, choosing to look at the stones at her feet this time. She could not understand what he had just said.
"Sakura, thank you."
The mention of her name caught her attention. She unconsciously clasped her hands in front of her nervously, close to her lips. Those were the same exact words he had used the night he had left Konoha all those years ago. Tears threatened to flood her eyes again but she pushed them back.
"I won't walk away from you again," he said quietly. "You can go."
It was almost as if he was begging her to go. Part of her wanted to leave him standing there. To do the same thing he had done to her. But did she really want revenge? Revenge was pill sweet when taken; but the aftertaste was always bitter. No, she did not want revenge.
As she stood there, he wanted to hold her, to embrace her, wrap his arms around her and tell her that he was never going to leave her again. But why was he scared? He knew in his heart he did not warrant her forgiveness.
"I don't want to go," she said.
He met the emerald green orbs boring into his dark ones.
She did not know what to do. Her frustration had reached its peak. Her vision blurred as her eyes flooded with tears and she averted her gaze once again to the lone flower. This time, she could not stop them from falling.
His chest tightened painfully as he saw fat tears streaming down her face.
It was against his nature. Against the character and the pride he had maintained all these years. The action itself was alien to him. But he reached up a hand and tenderly wiped the streams from under her eyes; and he gently pulled her close with the other.
She lost herself in his warm embrace; she buried her head in his chest. She clutched at his dark shirt to stop herself from shaking as she sobbed uncontrollably. She felt her anger ebbing away.
He kissed the top of her cherry blossom-scented head.
"Sakura, I'm sorry," he murmured, more to himself than to her. But as she looked up at him, other words that he could have said stuck in his throat and he could say no more. He stroked her cheek, still damp with the tears she had cried.
She looked up at him and could no longer be angry with him. All trace of her anger and fear was gone. She tried to smile affectionately through her tears, but could not. She grasped harder at his shirt, trying to stop the shaking.
She felt his warm hand stoke her cheek. Emotions raged inside her. She could not think straight. She no longer felt the cold. Instead she felt a hotness creeping up her neck and face.
His face was inches from hers. He saw her blush and felt his own face grow hot.
Not fighting the strange feeling raging inside him, he kissed her.
It seemed like many eras had passed before Sasuke finally ended the loving kiss.
Sakura wished those magical moments could have lasted forever.
Sakura glanced at the lakeside flower. There was a small bud growing very close to it. A small butterfly fluttered around and landed on the flower.
That flower would no longer be alone.