The Road Home, a naruto fanfic

Community: Autumnwrite

For: xUchihaSakurax and copperlights….Sorry for putting your two gifts into one. Hope you like this anyways. And sorry for the lateness. Don't worry, you're not the only ones!

(…that doesn't seem good. Oh well, at least nearly everyone is getting their gift today!)

Prompt: Spend sixty minutes writing a scene from a story you are writing normally. Quality filled scene.

Pairing: SasuSaku. Though, Sasuke's letter might seem a bit odd. I'm letting him be slightly romantic for once in his life. Especially considering the reason.

A/N: Technically, this is not from any scene of a series story I'm writing, but I read a story that had an open ending and inspired me to do this. At the end, the main character was told that she had to leave her home and never come within a certain distance to it.

Being the writer I am, the next thing to think was:

What next?

…

Hey lady, why do you always walk here alone and leave alone?

Well, it is a long story and I don't think you'll want to hear it.

Is it an exciting story? Filled with adventure and magic? And heroes and—

Kid, not every story is that happy. Not every story is filled with bright, positive things. Some are filled with darker feelings.

Oh, so what is your story about?

Mine? Mine is filled with tragedy and remorse, with death and bleedingbleedingbleeding bodies. It has angry villagers that slowly began to forgive and a girl that lost everything long ago and tried to get it all back, only to realize she still had it all this time. A boy who she loved and in his one way, he cherished her as well. He just happened to cherish something else just as greatly. There is another boy, their friend, that loved too much and nearly broke because of that and a council that hated more than they should. There is destruction in this tale, but there is also the pullings of a heart and life. There always has to be life in a story eventually.

How does it end?

That shall have to be a secret. Let me just say that it ended bittersweet. The girl realized what she had to lose everything, but she also gained several things this way. She traded her home for love, lives for friendship, lies for—oh, but I am getting ahead of myself. I'm telling you too much.

But now I'm interested! Can't you please tell me? I promise I won't tell anyone!

Maybe if you come back tomorrow and the day after and then the days after that, I might tell you eventually. I'm weak that way.

Let me warn you, though. Some stories are best left untold.

…

The Road Home

…

There is a village in the middle of nowhere. No, very close to being in the middle of nowhere, but that is good enough for her. The neighboring towns are at least two hours walk from where she lives and the village she lives near is at least a thirty minute walk.

Sakura's house now—not home, never home—is on top of a hill surrounded by green, green grass and near tall, caging trees. Rarely anyone walks by, which is why she chose it, and the only creatures nearby are the wildlife.

She now lives in an empty hut, as empty as her heart. There is a lumpy, stiff bed on a metal frame and a closet filled with threadbare clothes in one room. In the other, besides the small kitchen which consists of a sink, a few cupboards, and a stove, there is only a low wooden table and two chairs.

(The second is for the other person who never came.)

-x-

Hey lady, I'm back!

I can see that. So, are you here for the story?

You'll tell me?

No, but I can tell you something else instead. I can tell you pieces of the story and let you put it together. How about that?

That's not fair! It's so much work and—

Would you rather not hear it at all?

NO! Please tell me!

I'll tell you about a girl who lives in a lonely hill, only to hide the loneliness in her heart. There are friends that slowly started to trust her again and that started through a painting. The girl wanted to fly and instead plummeted to the earth, her wings torn off. There is the boy who wanted to catch the falling angel and instead just pushed her further down.

I don't get it but this sounds like a sad story.

I never said it will be happy. I just promised there would be some happiness.

-x-

To pass the time, sometimes Sakura takes on the odd job in the village. Sometimes she is painting a fence, others she is the doctor treating the wounded and helping with a birth. She's the only one able to do that, so she doesn't worry too much about work.

Most of all, she dreams. She dreams of her past, of the blood-soaked fields and the dying screams. She dreams of her family and friends, of their harsh stares and forgiving touches. She dreams of her love—is Sasuke still that?

When she thinks about it, the answer is yesyesyes. The answer will always be yes. Even though he betrayed her—she did it first, though—she still loves him with the bits and piece that is all that is left of her heart.

Thinking of them, she also wonders of many things. She wonders what her family is doing now (did sis turn into the vet? Did dad remember mom's anniversary?) and how much her friends changed. Do they look the same? Did they change their tastes?

She wonders what her life could have been had she not been forced to leave and cries the most at the thought of her could-be family.

-x-

Where did all those dreams go, those dreams of being a doctor and having a family, those dreams of being in love and talking to friends, where the past is not just the past but also the present? Where did those dreams go?

Into the dust, my child, into the air. Dreams go away when you don't use them, when you don't remember them.

But you tried! You seemed to, really! You are keeping them alive everyday.

Ahh, but you forgot one main thing. Dreams only live when you keep striving to achieve them.

The moment you stop trying is the moment they die.

-x-

In the village, the people don't treat her too badly. Some avoid her because she is a stranger and people naturally isolate those they don't know, but for the most part Sakura is treated nicely.

So nicely it breaks her heart.

(Would my friends have—? Would my family have—? Would he have—?

The answer she fears is no so she never completes the question)

-x-

I think forever exists.

Really? Then you are an optimist.

Why don't you believe in it?

Forever is a very long time. It lasts for eternity, it means staying the same for millions of years.

I didn't mean literally forever.

Heh, you know you are adorable when your angry.

Reall—I'M NOT CUTE! AND STOP CHANGING THE SUBJ—

Yes, I do know what you mean. I used to believe in that too, you know. I used to think that people stayed the same, that feelings never changed, that forever was not just a concept but a reality.

Why'd you stop?

I didn't stop, I just discovered the world. Forever is something that people use to describe their feelings. That never takes in account the changes in time, things that could affect your feelings, how you can transform or adapt. Forever can't exist because the world is not meant to stay the same.

Everything has to change one day.

-x-

The boy from her memories is young and handsome. His dark hair covers his eyes and is soft to the touch.

Now, he probably is different. Sasuke's face must look older and more careworn and he probably cut his hair.

Sakura thought that they were in love years ago. Before she left, before everything changed, before the red stain on her hands became permanent.

And maybe they were. Maybe, because in their profession it was common, the scent of the dead didn't matter to him. Even when he found out about her fabrication of the truth, he still stuck with her.

She had been foolish, though, and thought that no matter what the village council threw her way would be ok because he was by her side. He'd never leave her side.

When the pale mirror of the moon fades away and the dawn of reality struck, she realized the truth for what it was. Life wasn't a fairytale.

No matter what his feelings were, he'd never leave to a far away town and live there forever. Sasuke needed his home too much.

When they met for the last time, fate dealt its final, punishing card. His eyes were sad, revealing what his face didn't show, and gave a letter of apology before walking away, not even turning to look back.

She still has the letter, still keeps it safe in her chest box. It's one of the few things she has left from home. The only three other things she has with her is an album of pictures, a shoebox of notes, and a ratty tiger.

(She likes to think she has a fifth thing in a safer box, her memories and feelings, but that box isn't as safe as she wishes it is.)

The letter is practically memorized in her mind by now. It went something like this:

I'm sorry.

I understand what you did and don't hold it against you. Even through your crimes—the ones that broke your heart to commit and you tried everything to fix. I know it doesn't show much sometimes, that sometimes I make you doubt that and wonder whether or not it is only a one-sided affection that you show me. My feelings are sometimes hidden, but always in plain sight. Truly, I love you—

(She cries at this part every time. How ironic that words he could never say in real life were now said in paper and when they were parting for the last time.)

—with all of my soul. I know that saying this won't help much, but I hope it helps a little at least. Take it as a comfort and don't doubt it for a moment. You own me, all of me—

(She scoffs this slightly. All of him? She owns all of him? Oh, maybe then she did, but clearly she didn't own all of him otherwise he'd be here with her now, instead of his letter. And now she probably owns none of him, for time and distance changes feelings.

The romantic in her wants to believe it is true and so she only scoffs it slightly.)

—I don't regret a moment of being with you. Every moment we spent together was like a new day for me.

However—

(The first time she read this, even though she knew what was coming next, she felt her heart stop.

She doesn't think it started beating again.)

—but I can't leave our village. There are some things I can't leave unfinished here. My family was created here and has remained here for generations. I—

She always stops reading here, never going a word past the 'I'. At this point she folds up the letter and puts it away into the chest. She doesn't need to read the rest to know what Sasuke is going to say. Some of the words in the beginning of the letter were poetic and beautiful, unlike him, and obviously he had spent days planning out the letter.

(Probably those were the parts her friends helped with. She wishes they didn't because she would rather have his own words, no matter how cruel they were.)

She understands that home is safe (she'd have never left it if she had the choice) and secure, with comforts and that is why he stayed there. She understands that, and through that hopes that he is happy (with his possible wife and kids).

Yet, sometimes, when the wind howls coldly and she's struggling to keep warm, Sakura hates him. It is a hate borne of anger and betrayal, of loneliness and pain. It's there whenever she curls up in the empty bed and whenever she's struggling to survive. Immediately after, she feels a tinge of regret, for this is a bad feeling, but she can't remove those emotions. They are real. She is human.

And the hatred is intertwined with love. It formed from her love for the boy. Just like she can't remove the love, the hatred stays too.

-x-

What do you believe in?

Me? I think I believe in 'a very long time'. That means the person will remain in one way for some time, but that person also knows that change can occur.

This makes them very honest. They are aware of themselves.

Oh…I don't understand what you're saying fully.

It's ok, I don't expect you to. Youth has that affect on people. Everyone needs to discover this on their own, so one day you will understand.

As long as you do understand eventually, then it is fine.

The ones that don't understand are the ones that are still dreaming. They haven't woken up from Wonderland yet. Until they do, they will be stuck and never know what it truly means to be in love.

Love isn't measured by time, by promises and proclamations. Instead, love grows with every touch and smile, it embeds itself with contentment and joy, it graces people with understanding and compassion. Love can't be captured or contained; it can't ever be expressed fully for there are no words to describe it properly.

But then no one can ever tell anyone how they feel! Then no one can be in love or tell others how they feel or their happiness or—

Don't worry so much. There is a way that you can tell. A way that is known to lovers.

Love is expressed by heart. Each heartbeat screams it while each breath whispers their name. Love is communicated through the eyes and the actions you show.

The language of love is the language of silent words.

-x-

In the village, Sakura is familiar with most people. She knows them by their names and she can tell their feelings and thoughts at any given time. The smallest habit and the oddest thoughts are something she takes from them to keep.

On the other hand, though, they know nearly nothing about her. She lives on a hill, does odd jobs, is a skilled doctor, and always comes and leaves the village alone. She doesn't have many friends and she doesn't seem to try and make any.

Even though she isn't close to anyone any more, Sakura can't say that she is too lonely or sad after staying here for years. True, she is a little tired of walking into an empty hut, of keeping her secrets inside the seal of her heart, but she also knows that people can leave you very easily. She doesn't want to feel that hurt again.

Instead, she feels nearly content in this place. The woodland creatures are beginning to trust her, letting her feed them if she stays still. The villagers treat her with respect.

She can't say she is happy, that is something she'll not feel for a long time, but she does feel nearly content.

Sometimes that is a better feeling.

-x-

Is this it? The end of the story now?

When I tell it to you, it will seem like the end of the story. But it isn't. It's only the end of this chapter.

What's next, then?

That? That is still waiting to be written. There are still a few doors left open in this story, a few doors that lead down paths that can still be taken.

That can lead home?

No, that path is closed forever. As are many other paths. I didn't say all or most of them are open.

A few of them are, though, and that means something.

There is still hope and that is important.

When all else is gone, hope is left to drive us on.

-x-

One of her jobs is a fortune-teller. Sakura does that during the fairs held in spring, constantly hoping that he is there and praying that he is not. Many of the villagers and visitors—the village is famous for the fair—go to her booth.

There are the young couples, the giggling girl and the doting boyfriend. They love to hear that their love life will go amazingly well and so she tells them what they want to hear.

She also adds a tinge of sadness because she needs to add realism.

This realistic advice she gives (she could never tell the future) is the reason so many people visit her.

She is visited by bashful girls and nervous guys, all of them wanting to know if they'll meet their love soon. Mothers worried about their children, paranoid spouses, and people wanting a taste of adventure all come to her booth. They want to know the future, to know the paths they can take, and to know that no matter what, it will be ok.

She gives that to them because hope is the last thing she can give.

Occasionally, she is visited by a traveler. The traveler is always lost and confused, not sure of where to go next or what to do. They lost their way while trying to find it and they need a direction to go.

Whenever that happens, she gives them the only direction they can take. She tells them to go home, to return to the place they came from, and that they'll find their answers there.

There are many roads away from home, but only one returning.

And when that road is destroyed, it can never come back.

…

A/N: An book for English class, The Skin of a Lion, helped with the idea of fragmentation in this story.

I like that idea and hope I did it well.

Questions? Comments? Suggestions?

Review!