Sakura never did savor the sunrise,
Naruto never enjoyed the sunset.
Sakura could list off ages and events. Tick them off with a smile present as she recounted her first kill, her first team, her first experience with a defector. She could do this, but she never did. To say the age when such things had happened, (fifteen, twelve, twelve) served no purpose. All nin know that age does not matter. To say the ages of her misfortunes only illustrated how fast all nin must grow up. ("After all, we're raised with toy kunai in our hands. Praised when we hit the human shaped target straight in the straw heart for the first time." Sakura has said before, wistfully.)
Yes, ages are important, for the outside world. A place where one is not taught to maim but to share toys and hopes. She has stopped saying ages to show the order of things. She just says them in a flow. That was how they happened. The events did not care that she was only twelve; (with eyes too hopeful and a heart too weak, too large) they happened and made no apologies for happening. She appreciated that if nothing else. The events didn't apologize and say that they didn't have to happen, (because they truly didn't) it was so much easier to be frustrated and justified when something had to happen and you could do nothing differently then when you could have changed it.
She had stopped saying ages when she started to turn away from the sunrises. When she was small, (idyllic and far from jaded) it was too early to watch. She preferred to sleep in. Sakura can't blame her younger self for this, (when you're aged and coarse like she is now she would appreciate the time spent in oblivion with dreams to lead one through). Sakura is twenty-three, (not that it matters).
When she first got her apartment, (age eighteen) Naruto made sure that he was her first house guest. Sakura didn't have the heart to complain when she sees that he has brought food and stands riveted to the floor staring into the picture of team seven, (the first thing in it's place in this new home). Instead she offers to cook the ramen, he nods numbly and she makes sure to take her time preparing the meal because sometimes you need to be alone with your ghosts. She adds extra vegetables in hopes that somehow her time spent preparing the meal will make his confrontation worthwhile and he a bit keener on healthier food.
When he sits down at the table after sliding boxes away he is quieter but says the same amount. "Hey Sakura-chan, do you like sunrises?" He twirls the noodles around his chopsticks before slurping them up as he waits for her to answer.
"I guess they're ok." She ventures half-heartedly. She reconsiders when she sees that his face has fallen from its already dampened expression. "I've never really liked them. Just…something about them…" She broods into her broth and noodles trying to pinpoint the reason.
"Oh." The boy, (man, he hasn't been a boy since he was born and the first curse was forced upon him) murmurs as he finishes off his meal.
"What about you, do you like sunrises?" The girl, (she has always been a girl and she will always be. That is what she knows and what the man likes and his image of her is far too beautiful to ever let go) questions, delicately popping a piece of chicken into her mouth.
"My favorite time of the day." Leaning back in the chair and patting his stomach contently Sakura is glad to see that he is returning to his sunny self. "It's just that…" He struggles to word it properly, "you've got the whole day ahead of you and you just get this feeling you can do anything and…" His voice is rising to a crescendo but he cuts it short and breaks eye contact with his riveted audience in embarrassment. To ease his discomfort she stands and collects the bowls to dump into her sink to be taken care of later.
"I guess I've never really gotten that feeling." (She lies, that feeling has always been beset by disappointment and she doesn't care to remember waking up on a stone bench at sunrise as she cried while the sky rejoiced). Her voice turns wistful, "I've always loved sunsets though."
His face scrunches up at the thought.
"There's just something final and solemn about it, it's weird but I always recount my day to the sunset. Kinda like it's the conclusion of the day, it's out of your hands, you don't have to worry." Rummaging through boxes she finds some Tupperware and pours the remains of the meal into it for tomorrow, (it seems right for a reminder of this to carry over to the next day).
"It gets dark after that though." It seems like such a childish thing to say, such a horrendously large understatement that she should roll her eyes and say "Baka!" but she understands, (the night carries with it haunting things on its wings of raven black). Then because she doesn't know how to respond to his words she digs out some sake and they start to drink because they are of age, (it does not matter; shinobi do not have an age, they are all ancient) and they need to forget the sunset and what it brings.
It has been years since her first guest in her apartment, (she is now twenty) when she hears a tap-tap-tapping upon her bedroom window. Instantly awake she slinks over to see her late night visitor. It is Naruto, (the man) hunched over dully thudding the tip of his finger against the now smudged glass. She ushers him in, shivering as the cool night air tenuously latches onto her exposed flesh. Sliding the window shut she turns to see the man that has come to her at two in the morning.
"It was dark outside." He offers up feebly looking for all the world that he is barely holding the agonies he has undergone back. Feeling that her broken heart is crying out in pain for this man, (the one that was always there for her with adoration handy) she goes to him. They sink to the floor. She, (the woman because that is what he needs) cradling him, (the boy because that is what he really is) and cooing out nonsense words that have no literal meaning but instead speak of emotions too deep to ever put petty and limited names upon.
They stay like that for the rest of the night, battling the night together because that is their only comfort against the darkness' chill and memories that they have jointly suffered. When the sunset comes Naruto breaks her hold and crawls into the light, (more than appearing to be a boy-child-spirit with his head tilted back as he embraced the warmth) Sakura stays back watching the splendor. She does not feel the hope renewed as he does but seeing him take it into himself she wishes she did.
Eventually they move in together, (she is twenty-one) because the bedroom window has become so filthy with all the tapping fingerprints, (that is what she says when she informs him that he will be living with her from now on. He smiles, nods, and packs his sparse things). They are both anbu and are often away, she at the hospital most times, and he in long missions far from someone to cling to in the night. When they are both home they keep the night away. Sometimes they drink sake, (you can't fight memories you can't recall) other times they sleep, too tired to keep a vigilance over their nightmares, mostly though they stay close together and soothe one another, (skin is not a ghost, hair is too fine a thing to be conjured up by restless recollections, sweet words are not what they shy from in the night).
In this fashion they spend a year. It is when the sunrise's that Naruto asks Sakura to marry him. It is on the first lights of sunset that she accepts. (She is twenty-two, not that it matters).
Well this is a prize fic for the ever wonderful une see, hope you like it! -Cloey Marie-