What originally started as a response to a prompt to just describe a color without using it in the description, developed into a 300 word poem, which in turn evolved into this weird yet intriguing thing. I know I've been away from writing for a while, and I should get back to A Restless Resolve, but I thought I'd use this as my gateway back to these characters. It's short, and there is still a second part to come, but until then I hope you enjoy what I have written. I would love to hear your thoughts.

Extra note, I now have a tumbler. Here's the link. There you will find not only some of my original writings, but future snippets of the book I have been writing this past year, as well as other fanfic related dabbles as they arise.

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The Beginning: A Tale of Two Parts

Part 1

When his eyes first met hers, he was reminded of the color of spring. She had a look of a budding bloom too timorous still to blossom. He noted how she hung herself in a way that kept her in the shadows; had eyes like a meadow and a voice without ground enough to stand. He played with the idea of taking her hand. But then the school bell rang and he turned away.

Each day after that passed much in the same way.

In class, as the other children around him screamed and cheered, she sat up front – a silent statue – while he lazed blissfully in the back. As the teacher spoke, providing instructions on chakra, the three types of jutsu and more, his head rested atop the desk, eyes barely kept open. Hers remained held high, a glowing flicker of something light tugged at the edges of her lips as her hand moved with each word. She had the kind of rapt attention he couldn't fathom. So, he would turn away; let his eyes focus on the color of freedom as it gently floated in the breeze.

For a while, the years passed by in much the same way; although, not entirely unchanged. He contented himself with an unaltered routine of evasion: the evasion of work, the evasion of responsibilities, and most importantly, the evasion of all things noisy and bothersome. She bloomed. Away from the shadows and into the light, he watched at what was once flickering sparks grow into a flame. Listened as the ground raised up to make the world her personal stage. She took to it like a bird to the air. She made friends. Laughed. Crafted an enemy of a friend over childish notions of first love. He wanted to scoff, to turn away. But, as his eyes met hers once more, the echoes of the world around him fell silent, and he heard the color of the noise that flickered and hummed like static inside his head; like the shade of her teeth, which peak between parted lips as they curved with joy. He let his eyes linger, not quite ready to let that inexplicable feeling go.

Chunin exams. Suddenly the world was no longer something easily ignored. Suddenly there were consequences. Like now, with him in the shadows and her on the field; her hands' trembling with the weight of everything she had to loose lying behind her. Stinging trails of blood and shallow pants filled his vision. He counted the odds. Evaluated his position. It only took seeing her crouched in the soil in a final attempt not to give ground for him to make his decision. With his team beside him, he fought. They got the upper hand, but that hardly mattered when he saw the eyes of her teammate as he woke. Saw the fear in hers as it ate away the relief. Standing down, they waited for the battle to be won. But he, well, he watched as the flavor of hatred took root in the eyes of her comrade. Listened to the screams of what was previously an enemy turned into a victim. Suddenly, the hum was back; only now it was a color with a whole new shape. His mouth filled with the taste of rust as the air around him stilled. Just as quickly as it came, however, it left. For, unlike him, who sat frozen with disbelief, she pushed herself forward. Her arms became a spell as they shattered whatever curse her comrade had over him. Mesmerized, he watched her pull back the darkness, uprooting the hatred and the cold with a single plea.

"Stop, please."

And just like that, it was over. Only, it wasn't. Not for him, and especially not for her.

More time passed until eventually, she found herself back at the beginning. Alone. One teammate having fled towards the enemy, the other having left to obtain the strength to bring him home. Even her teacher, a man meant to lead her to be something more turned his back, re-joined the ANBU while he waited for his real students. Students that were not her. Shikamaru clenched his teeth. She deserved more; but, before he could offer her a door, he watched, dumbfound, as she smashed the walls apart.

When he had first met her, he remembered how she reflected the same feelings as spring. He recalled the way she had the look of a budding bloom too timorous still to blossom… how she hung herself in a way that kept her hidden within the shadows. Now, well, she was no longer spring. No longer something new waiting for permission to begin. Shikamaru witnessed the flame that was Sakura erupt into that of a roaring blaze. Without a moment's hesitation she convinced the Hokage to take her as her apprentice. Trained not only in the art of healing but that of war. For the first time in her life, it was she who was in control. And for the first time in his, the shadows no longer held the same kind of pull. Making a decision, Shikamaru took a step forward, knowing he could no longer be satisfied with merely watching from the sidelines. Not anymore.

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Please let me know what you think. Part 2 is on its way. Cheers!

Extra note: since this was originally based off describing a color, that color is a theme throughout this work, lets see if you can guess which one it is.