Puppy Love

There it was, thought Tazuna. Love true and pure; unconditional and unrequited love in the form of a young girl crouched over the prostrate form of a dark-haired boy. He watched the pink-haired girl- Sakura, was it, her name? – shudder with grief, tears spilling unchecked down her cheeks.

At that moment, Tazuna asked himself why it was so easy for the young to give their love with no second thought, no reservations. There was no thought for lust, no thought for commitment. The love that rolled down Sakura's cheeks onto the poor boy's shirt did not contain anger or regret at the past, things done or not done. She did not wish that their lives could have been different. The girl was faced with the present, with facts that she could not change and because of that she cried.

Tazuna had seen the not-so furtive glances Sakura had thrown in the boy's direction, her eyes sending pleas for some form of attention from him. Tazuna had also noticed the way that the raven-haired ninja did not reciprocate the affection. How did she get the strength to keep on loving him despite the fact that he barely looked at her?

The love that Sakura had lavished upon the boy had been ignored, but perhaps the boy would have been glad that he had someone at his side as he lay there dead. Or perhaps that was merely Tazuna's imagination zooming into territories he did not understand.

Tazuna was in no way an expert on love and its many facets. The closest he had come to love was a night around 28 years ago. Or maybe it was lust. A girl was born as a result of that lust, or love, or whatever it was, and it was because of her that Tazuna had stayed with the baby's mother until she died a year later. Time had blurred all memories of whatever feelings he had for the woman. He could barely recall her face. But what was done was done, and Tazuna had become a father.

But he remembered the years before that night, the time he spent chasing after girls he barely knew; the jealousy and lust involved in those lecherous adventures, but never love.

Perhaps because love towards someone not related to him was uncommon to Tazuna, he felt an immense sorrow upon watching the pink-haired girl's entire body shudder with grief and listening to the ragged gasps that unwillingly escaped her throat.

The problem with getting close to people was this; the sadness felt when they left. Was it worth it? Was opening yourself up to someone only to have them leave you worth anything? Tazuna wondered whether Sakura had made an impact on the boy's life.

Maybe she would have, had there been time. Perhaps she would have changed his life, or stopped him from committing a grave error. The boy might have fallen desperately, irrevocably in love with her, or she might have fallen out of love with him. Or maybe he would have never looked at her in the way she really wanted him to and she would have been doomed to a life of pining after a man who would never love her.

There might have been children, had the boy lived. Or there might have been absolutely nothing between the two except a vague memory of their team from their younger days.

Tazuna could not have told what the future might have held for the two young shinobi, but then again, he supposed it didn't matter anymore, what with the boy being dead.

He felt a twinge of guilt at the thought that it was all his fault. But he had long ago learned that wishing to undo the past was useless. All he could do for the girl was let her grieve.

Tazuna was snapped out of his musings by a loud gasp that emerged from Sakura's mouth. Tazuna saw the boy's eyes flutter open. The boy muttered something about Sakura's arm being heavy, and the girl blinked, as if unsure of what she was seeing.

"Sasuke-kun…" she murmured. His name came out sounding watery and weak. "Sasuke-kun, Sasuke-kun!" Her voice gained strength and she threw her arms around his neck and pressed her damp cheek to his.

Tazuna felt a wave of relief wash through him and watched Sakura's tears of joy roll down Sasuke's neck.

And there it was again, that true love, unconditional and unrequited. Tazuna closed his eyes and tried to burn the image of that moment into his mind's eye. Perhaps when times were bad he could look at it again to remind himself that such purity existed, and as long as it did there was still hope for the world.