A woman sat, alone, underneath a blossoming sakura tree.
One passing by might have thought that she was extremely lucky to be blessed heavily by the gods.
One observing from the bench beside a lamppost would have shook his head at the petal-haired female by herself.
One, hanging laundry for the fragrant breezes to catch, would've smiled to herself and continued pinning up the fresh clothes.
---
When he climbed into bed in the middle of the night, he brought in the cold. She murmured his name, but he did not answer, and she knew he had been out again.
---
She wished she could be like her shadow. Slender, with no face. Her hair would be in longer, thicker strands, and her face wouldn't be that round. Her legs would be longer, and not so fat; her fingers wouldn't be so calloused, and instead, they would be delicate, and defined.
Perhaps then he would want her again.
They used to be the most romantic lovers out there, kissing lightly at the littlest things, giving little tokens of love and whatnot - they caused the others to give each other knowing smiles.
It had taken years for him to let go of his pride and come together. Of course, eventually, they married, and tried for a child.
Their intimacy slowly evaporated when she hadn't conceived a child after many tries. She even went to the Fifth for medicine to help, but even then, it didn't work.
Eventually he left her alone at night, and didn't come back until after she gave up waiting for him and went to bed.
Then, when he slipped into the covers and slept with his back to her, she smelled expensive perfume and the tangy sweetness of sake.
She found various shades of red on his clothes when she did the laundry.
It was so hard to wash off.
---
Month after month passed, her growing depressed each day. He began staying out for longer, and didn't even bother to conceal the lipstick stains anymore. His clothing stank of perfume.
He barely talked anymore.
Every morning she would find a small wad of cash on her nightstand - her daily allowance.
After she sought out her blonde friend for comfort and advice, she discovered that even one of her best friends had what she wanted most.
---
She was doing the laundry when she stopped, and looked at nothing. He had been gone. He had taken another month-long mission. The pervious one lasted two months.
She smiled bitterly to herself.
---
She was nervous when he finally came home six weeks later. She took his clothes from him and hurried to wash them. Dinner was cooked, and the bath was readied.
His eyes flickered to her abdomen. He said nothing.
When he took his bath, she hurried to a mirror and checked herself over.
She retied it, then smoothed her hands over her stomach.
Her hands dropped, then raised to cover her face.
How long would he fall for this trick? She had it all planned out - giving "birth" to her child while he was on a mission close to the due date, then taking care of her friend's child. Until when?
She sank to the ground, clutching her head.
He was a prodigy. He would figure it out. Why did she even think of that?
She carefully wiped at her eyes, then stood up and took a deep breath.
Running away was her last option.
---
They had always watched the morning dew of Konoha evaporate into silver must in the early mornings.
Her favorite flower was the rose, and he planted a row of them outside their house just for her. She took care of them everyday.
They were like her children.
During the winter, one of them died. The most flowerless rosebush was damaged by the cold elements, and froze to death. He saw her crying and took her in his arms.
He wondered aloud why she would care so much for plants. Plants he could easily incinerate.
She replied, sniffling, that she didn't know.
When spring came, he brought her two more - the rare ones from Hidden Grass.
Since then, they've survived every winter.
---
She avoided the white-eyed Hyuuga as much as she could.
They were always the first ones to congratulate soon-to-be-mothers.
Of course, for her, there was nothing to celebrate.
Nothing to congratulate.
Even the most timid Hyuuga had tried to confront her. She made as many excuses she could, and shut herself at home to avoid concerned friends.
She unhooked the phones when he wasn't at home, and used henge to run her errands.
In the end, the timid one caught her and demanded to speak with her.
The Hyuuga had offered her medicinal hybrids she had developed, and wished her good luck before walking away.
She put them in her pocket, and had forgotten about them until she was cleaning out the pockets for laundry.
---
Every piece of clothing she wore went into the washer on Friday mornings, then into the dryer in the afternoon. She watched them as they were whipped around in the soapy waters, then drained and sent to the dryer, where they tumbled in extreme heat.
The soap was the obstacle, the water was the burden. She was tossed around helplessly in the washer, her life, until fate decided she was clean enough, and was transferred to the dryer.
Then, she had to endure pain, long, until she had almost healed; then she was folded, like a package, until she was opened and used again.
That was her life these days, she thought, as she placed a load into the dryer.
And then she pressed the button to start it.
---
When she was a little girl, she had always dreamt of being him.
When he was a little boy, he had a great burden placed on his small shoulders.
She wanted to live with him, married of course, then have three children, and name the first boy Tsuya, the next girl Tori, then the littlest boy after her former blond teammate.
He wanted to rebuild his clan.
She was silent when he slapped her across the cheek and made her fall to the ground, her hand on the stinging skin.
He told her he wasn't stupid, and tore up her 'pregnancy' with his hands.
The same hands that had slipped on her wedding band, and slipped off her clothes and made love to her the first time.
She kept silent, shivering on the floor; he had ripped off her clothes to expose her flat abdomen.
He threw her onto the bed roughly and raped her. She did not push him off, she did not scream; she just kept silent and looked away, to the side.
It was not because she was afraid he would kill her if she protested; it was not because she wanted it, nor was it that she knew that he was punishing her for her infertility, or his sterility.
She knew it was the last time he would do it before he left for good.
She didn't gasp in pleasure as orgasms flitted through her stomach like she did the first times. She didn't moan or call out his name, and he didn't make sure he was gentle. No kisses were shared when they had both reached their limit, nor did they talk to each other.
She didn't like it. There was no romantic air about them.
And yet she could barely hold in a cry as he hit a tender area repeatedly, as if he knew she couldn't resist herself.
And yet she couldn't help but feel disappointed when she knew he was almost done with her.
He thrust in one last time, and she stared blankly at her fingers as they twitched slightly.
No tears left her eyes when he pulled out roughly, or when he grabbed his clothes and left the house.
It was not until she heard the door slam closed that she let the saline form in her emerald eyes.
And then she just laid there, letting tears roll off her cheeks and wetting the comforter. She shivered, then turned away from the door and hugged herself, her forbidden area sore and bleeding.
---
When she was just a little girl, she often marveled at change. When they added lamp posts to the parks, she felt that they were oddly out of place, that they didn't belong there.
The lamp posts outside her room were there since she was born, and she did not realize they were missing when the construction workers took them out to replace them.
Since the first couple times she wouldn't get pregnant, he had left the house for days at a time. After a while, she grew numb to the pain, and felt nothing when he started staying out for longer.
She had grown accustomed to the empty house, eating meals by herself, then crawling into a cold bed at night.
But, she had gotten used to it. She learned to entertain herself and keep herself busy as to forget about it.
It was almost like living by herself as a young adult again. Almost, except for the scent of her husband.
She had spent such a long time wooing him as a child and young teenager, and when she had finally obtained him, she felt that he was out of place in her house. He, one of the strongest shinobi was her husband. And he chose her above all the other women desperate for his attention. After a while, he was always there. She took advantage of his presence as a husband, and when he left, a hole was torn through her heart. She thought that when he was gone, she wouldn't notice it. But she did. Painfully.
---
One's nose grew accustomed to a familiar smell after time, but hers didn't. Every morning when she woke up, she smelled the spicy, masculine scent that shrouded his pillow, his bed, his chair, his whole house.
The scent gave her a headache, and she went to walk in the park often. She washed the sheets and the pillowcases multiple times, but the scent still lingered.
She exchanged brands of detergent, but the scent still lingered.
It stamped in her mind, and always reminded her of what could have been.
After he walked out the door, the smell became stronger.
It pained her, but she could not bring herself to loathe it.
It was all she had left of him.
She missed him, even after all those things he had done to her, and put her through. She wanted him back, and she cried to herself at night. She needed him.
She wanted for him to take her in his arms again and wipe her tears away. She even considered damaging a couple of her precious rosebushes.
Maybe then he would come back and apologize, then kiss her until she couldn't contain herself anymore, and then make love to her.
She needed to do something to numb the pain, but he had taken all the kunai and shuriken with him.
She would give anything to be with him.
He wanted children. She knew he married her to rebuild his clan. There was no love left in his heart. When she agreed, she thought she could melt what was left of his heart, and show him what love was.
She would have done anything for him, as long as she was with him and was important to him. But the one thing he wanted was the thing she couldn't give.
---
She finally went out one day, months after he left.
Her once bright, sparkling green eyes had dulled, and her smile held nothing but dry, empty air. Her hair, which she had pride in, was limp and disheveled.
Her eyes had shadowed rings underneath, and her lifeless eyes looked tiredly at the bright sunlight of the outside world.
She was going to the grocery store when the timid one stopped her politely.
A shy smile tugged at the pale Hyuuga's lips, and she bowed.
Congratulations, she had said.
Confusion mingled in the dull jade eyes.
The Hyuuga bowed again, and placed her hand on the other's cheek before smiling and hurrying away.
She stood, dazed. Then slowly turned and continued on her way. It wasn't until she was on the floor on all fours a week later that she realized what the Hyuuga meant.
---
She saw her favorite tree in the park, and walked toward it. It was in full blossom, and pastel petals detached themselves from the knobby twigs and branches to kiss a passerby's face and fingers.
Pink flowers swayed along with the branches as she made her way to it, then sat down underneath the sakura tree. The blades of lush green grass tickled her fingertips, and she let a small smile tug at her lips.
Her cheeks, once sunken, were healthy and rosy, and her eyes were bright and observant.
One passing her in the park would have smiled to oneself and continued on one's way. Nothing would have occurred to anybody.
She lifted her fingers and touched the material of her clothes on her abdomen.. Her hand found a comfortable spot, and soothed over her stomach.
She was still alone, because she realized he wouldn't come back. She was alright with that. He was not good enough for her if he abandoned her when he didn't get what he wanted.
He made a huge mistake when doing that.
She still missed him, and everything about him, but she knew he'd never be with her again. Even if he came back and begged for her to forgive him, she would close the door on him, even if it killed her to do so. What he did was unforgivable.
She would have thanked him, though, before closing the door. He gave her an extremely wondrous gift before he left.
She, extremely heavy with twins, got up when a slight cramping went off in her gut.
She then made her way to the hospital - all by herself.
--
Did you guys like it? I hope it was angst enough to be in the genre. Oh wells. Tell me what you think… It was my first time at angst stuff. winks Was it sad? Did it make you cry? (Highly doubt it…)
Note: Special thanks to my beta-reader, GenialHinata!
Please leave a review! bows