Disclaimer – Naruto is not mine. The only thing that is, is the story these words create.
She'd made a promise to herself years ago that she wouldn't cry anymore. She broke it, of course, and it was one of the most depressing times that she could recall. Not just because she'd been sad enough to cry but because she'd given in and broke her own promise. Never again she told herself. That feeling was something she never wanted to feel again.
It was so close to bubbling out a second time, though.
Her fist, previously limp by her side, tightened around a single rose. A small droplet of blood rolled down her finger and dropped from her hand down onto the ground, blown to the side by a slight breeze. Relaxing her grip at the pain, she brought it up to her face and observed the wound. Small, barely noticeable, yet still there. A simple pinprick. Her gaze moved over to the rose now rolling loosely in her palm.
She'd gone to the Yamanaka's flower shop to get it but was unsurprised when nobody was there to help her. Instead of going somewhere else she'd taken the flower, a single pink rose, deep and rich in color, and set her money on the counter. Surely they wouldn't mind. After all, Ino had been her best friend for many many years now.
Afterward she'd traipsed through Konoha to where she stood now, in front of the marble that her friend's name was carved in. Nobody else was here, but then again why would they be? It was hardly dawn yet as she'd woken up before the sun even had a chance to rise. On a day like this how could she sleep? How could anyone sleep with all the death going on around them? Sleep had been elusive for awhile now to her. It was obvious to any onlookers. It showed in her dull and sunken eyes as well as her lax posture. The hospital had been busier than ever, and now this happened. If she had to take a guess, she'd figure it would be a year or more before she could sleep remotely sound again. Even that wasn't taking into consideration what could happen within a years time.
Last night she'd stayed up into the late hours and hardly got a restful hour of slumber before she'd awoke, guilty and sad. She hadn't had the strength to go to the funeral, and it had been days since then. She'd also been unable to visit the memorial stone, despite how much her friends told her she should. She regretted it every single time it was conjured to the forefront of her mind. How could she have been so pathetic that she couldn't even go to a funeral? Especially one so important!
But she hadn't, and now she was suffering for it night and day. Finally, though, she'd given in and here she was. Bleeding and about to break.
She thought of the bond they'd shared ever since they met. That was something that never broke. It was a strong bond, no matter what others might think. They had unconventional ways of showing their love for each other, but it was still there; buried beneath all of the insults and attitude. Sometimes it was stretched thin, but it never broke. And when they managed to resolve the issue it was stronger than it had been, because if they could keep their bond after that then they could certainly keep it over anything else.
She also thought of the memories they'd shared. The ones at the hospital, both good and bad, and the ones on missions. Simple ones from their childhood, and ones when they went out drinking. Even ones where she'd been dragged out of the hospital to have lunch and a decent conversation. After sifting through only a handful of them, however, she had to bite her lip to keep herself from sobbing. She wouldn't do that. Not this time.
Giving up on reminiscing for the moment, she tried to busy herself with other things. There wasn't much else to do though, with only the wind and the earth beneath her for company. Sucking in a deep breath, she grasped the rose once more and squatted down so her face was in front of the tablet. Reaching forward she let the flower roll down her fingers until it landed gracefully on the ground. It looked so out of place in her mind. Like it didn't belong there. And did it? They were friends before but she'd been a let down in that area recently.
Gingerly, she let her fingers caress the engraving, biting her lip all the while. This was harder than she'd imagined it would be. She knew it would be tough, but before coming here she was adamant that she wouldn't give into her hearts desire to fall apart. Oh how wrong she had been. Which, to her, was ridiculous. It was hardly the first death she'd ever had to deal with. Her parents, her first love, her shishou. All of which she'd been sad over, but never cried for.
No, she'd cried only for one and she'd never forgiven herself for it. It was dishonoring, those tears that had been filled with anguish and contrition. With pain, anger, and sadness. They'd fallen and sullied the grave. Dirtied it with her liquid remorse.
These tears now, these nonexistent tears that wanted to fall so badly from her lashes. She wouldn't let them fall. She wouldn't shower the grave of her friend with these feelings, because nobody deserved that. To have a deathbed of regret, it was no way to pass on. She nearly laughed, because it really was no way to live either. Unfortunately, that's how she'd been living for a long time now.
Her legs were getting tired. How long she'd been squatting there she was unsure. The sun was up now, not quite at its peak but getting closer and closer. If anybody had come by, she was unaware. She wouldn't have noticed anyway, but she was thankful for anybody who had come by because they'd left her alone to her own thoughts.
Thoughts that were now getting the best of her. She needed to leave, or she'd break her promise for sure. She wanted to leave, even, but when she tried to stand she realized she couldn't. Nothing was keeping her there, though. There was nothing weighing her down physically, there was no glue stuck to her sandals. There was nothing, yet she couldn't move.
Was this her friend telling her not to go? That it was okay to stay. To weep. Of course not, but it's what she used to justify her staying. Her fingers stilled. She hadn't even been conscious of the fact that she'd never stopped running her digits over the smooth rock. Leaning forward, she let her head rest on the cool stone. Closing her eyes, she thought of her friend once more. There were so many times that she wished she'd done something different, something that may have changed the outcome. Where they would be eating lunch now instead of this.
These memories, though happy, were making her sad. She wouldn't cry though. She wouldn't.
A single tear rolled down her cheek, making it's way happily down from her eye and leaving a trail in its wake. The dam was breaking, as she knew it would eventually. She wasn't strong. She tried to tell herself she was all the time, but she wasn't. She was weak, something she'd always hated in herself ever since she was a child. Underneath the exterior, which she'd molded into a tough and hard shell, there was a small little girl who cried at everything. That people were dying, that she couldn't save everyone, that she'd been locked up for so long and not let out.
She was getting her time to shine now, though. She was breaking down the wall, piece by piece, in a fit of sorrow and rage. Throwing the brick she'd just claimed as her own at the wall and chipping it even more. The hole was getting bigger, and soon enough she was out in the open. No longer confined; no longer restricted.
And that was when the remorse fell a second time. She sobbed then, loud and obnoxious to her ears. A reminder that she was incapable of keeping promises, even to herself. It only made her cry harder. It was an ugly sight to behold, she was sure. Her nose was running now, and the tears were cascading down her face like a waterfall. They dripped onto the dirt underneath her, being soaked up by the earth. A few stray tears landed on the flower. She felt it was symbolic in a way she couldn't describe.
She croaked out the name then. It was hard to discern, but she knew. And she knew that her friend knew too, that she was calling out.
"Ino. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
She was pathetic. She just hoped that she was forgiven by Ino for bathing her in remorse. Even though she'd never forgive herself.
A/N – More angsty than any of the stories that I've written before. Hope you guys enjoy it!