Ephemeral
ephemeral - adj: enduring a very short time; "the ephemeral joys ofchildhood"; "a passing fancy"; "youth's transient beauty"; "love is transitory but at is eternal"; "fugacious blossoms"
Disclaimer: ...
It was ephemeral.
It left him wondering whether or not he was dreaming...
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-X-x-X-x-X-
The pink sakura blossoms danced in the wind, twirling around his head and brushing against his skin with velvet softness, making him flinch upon every contact, as if struck.
He shook his head slightly, raven locks swaying from the movement, as he attempted to clear his mind. Gravel crunched beneath the soles of his sandals as he proceeded, subcounciously picking up his pace a little. A pale hand tightened its clutch on a rose, ignoring the thorns jabbing painfully into the soft flesh that was the palm of his hand.
Behind him, he could have swore he heard voices, conjured up from nothingness.
He heard his name.
But it was fleeting.
-X-x-X-x-X-
The old cemetery gate creaked and screeched noisily, complaining about its lack of oiling. Ignoring the noise, he stepped in and swung the gate shut behind him again. It banged shut with a final creak, and was silent.
For a moment, time seemed to stop. Silence fell heavily, and even the air seemed to have lost its life. He could only warily survey the scene before him, with the air of someone about to step within enemy grounds.
Gravestones were scattered among the tall, untended wild grass and flowers. Many were cracked, but he spotted quite a few that were still recent: they were polished and clean, having yet to face the harsh winter and pelting rain. They were the stone tablets of memories for those lost in the Great War...only a few years ago.
Something inside him twanged painfully.
Her headstone would be among them.
Suddenly, the gate behind him, his passage for escape, seemed extremely tempting.
Somewhere off in the distant, a bird broke into song, shattering the unusual stillness. The tune was sweet, but melancholy, its notes carried to his ears by the accursed wind. It sounded faintly familiar. Painfully familiar.
Abruptly, he turned and went back to the gate. He wasn't ready yet. The place brought back too many memories, too much guilt. The rusted handle of the brass gate turned dutifully, albeit grudgingly, as he applied force to it. Perhaps a little too much force.
The rose slipped from his hand and landed without a sound on the dirt ground beside him. Annoyed, he began to leave, not bothering to pick it up. It was just a rose. He would buy another one the next time he summoned the courage to visit.
The wind picked up once more. A single, pink petal grazed his cheek, almost as if stroking it.
Hello.
He spun around with astounding speed, a sharpened and deadly kunai clenched in one hand, the other just waiting to begin handseals. His onyx eyes sharpened to bright, crimson sharingan.
He was alone.
A tremor ran down his spine as he stowed away the kunai. The bird was still singing.
There was a rustle in a nearby bush. In a flash, the kunai was out again. He turned to face the direction of the sound, shock draining away to be replaced by anger.
"Who are you?" he yelled, voice edged with steel. "What do you want?"
There was absolute stillness, as even the bird song had faded, and for a moment, he thought that he had once more been hallucinating.
But all doubt evaporated when the rustle surfaced again, and this time, it was accompanied by soft whispering. He could not make out the exact words, but he had no time to, for the strange noise was travelling rapidly away from him...leading right into the heart of the graveyard.
-X-x-X-x-X-
His feet pounded against the dirt trail in time with his heart pounding in his head. His thoughts were in a disarray, a tempest within his mind. Who, or what was making those sounds? Why? And an even better question: why was he following it?
It suddenly occured to him that the sound was gone, and that he was now standing upon the crest of a small hill. Only a few gravestones decorated its crown, and right in the middle, almost too centred to be natural, there grew a knarled and old tree, leafless despite the warm summer.
He stood panting slightly for a moment, letting his thoughts catch up inside his racing mind, and took in the scene around him. From the top of the hill, he could see the Hokage faces carved into the escarpment, all the way across Konohagakukre. The sixth face was that of a grinning, familiar face, whisker marks and all.
He could feel a dry smirk twisting his features. Dobe. Guess you're finally happy now. Sixth Hokage and everything. Congratulations. You're the Hokage, the Protector of the Village, the Great Vessel. And what am I?
He stopped the bitter train of thought abruptly, as something dawned upon him. Something rather unpleasant. What am I? After all this time, all that I've done...nothing has changed. He glared at the grinning, stone face again...and suddenly, a new face replaced it, lingering stubbornly in his mind. A face with green eyes and coral hair, lit with a small but sincere smile...
Gone. Fading. Dying.
Dead.
Everything has changed. The young man clenched his fists, vision blurring around the edges. Angrily, he swiped a sleeve across his eyes. He wouldn't cry. He hasn't cried in years. Hadn't cried when he broke all ties with his village. Hadn't cried when he killed the last living member of his clan. Hadn't cried when he found out about her.
And I am nothing.
-X-x-X-x-X-
The sun sat low in the distant horizon, bathing the heavens pink. Already, the darkening night was pushing against it, forcing it back, slowly but surely. He turned away. Stupid metaphors. Dark over light. Night over day. Good over evil.
The bird's tune had stubbornly started up again, coming from somewhere above him. Maybe perched on one of the skeletal branches of the dead tree. He craned his neck back, glaring up, only to see a mess of tangled, but empty, limbs. A few pillars of light shot through the tight spaces, softening its rough bark and sharp edges.
The tree was empty.
Yet the song still flowed.
Frustrated and angry, the pale young man drove his fist into the rough, knobbly tree trunk. The bark cut into his hand as rivulets of crimson ran down his scarred and callused hand. Bitterly, he savored the stinging pain, pins and needles shooting up his arm. I deserve this. This...and more. Much more.
"Are you okay?"
On simple reflex, the young man spun round, the kunai returned to his uninjured fist, his body tensed and crouched in attack position.
The girl before him simply smiled amiably, seemingly undaunted. He lowered the kunai slowly, cautiously. The girl appeared to be more of a young woman upon closer inspection. She was donned in unremarkable civilian clothes, topped off with an odd straw hat, usually worn by traditional boatmen...or, as he realized with a lurch in his lower abdomen, by the Akatsuki, only without the paper strips and bells.
"Who are you?" he demanded, unable to keep the suspicion and aggressiveness out of his tone.
She shrugged but didn't answer. He didn't press her for an answer. It really didn't matter who she was. If she turned out to be an enemy, he would attack. If not, it wouldn't matter to him either way.
The bird warbled in the distance, seemingly (although it may have been his imagination) even louder than before.
The young woman's eyes drifted to the empty branches, and as he watched warily, the orbs seemed to light up with something he couldn't quite identify.
Then, her smile widened even more as she closed her eyes, pursed her lips...and began to whistle along.
He could feel his eyes widening in shock. Every note, pitch, and breath that escaped her lips was perfectly in tune with the bird song. The melody was haunting...almost inhuman. It was a duet between girl and bird. Should he be disturbed if the girl was just as good as the songbird? Even more so: should he be disturbed if the girl knew the one song in the whole world he was pretty sure only he knew?
It had seemed so long ago.
That song…
-X-x-X-x-X-
She was beautiful. The soft evening sun bathed her in its radiant light, illuminating and accentuating every curve and contour in her slim form, upon which a pale pink wedding kimono clung onto. There were flowers adorned in her hair, of all different shapes and sizes. A gentle spring breeze rushed past her, carrying a trail of sakura blossoms in its wake.
He watched in silence as she reached out with lithe, expert kunoichi fingers, and snagged a large, full one. She brought it to her nose, inhaling deeply. He noticed her mouth was moving slightly. Inching forward on trained shinobi feet, he stopped directly behind the thick trunk of the sakura tree she was leaning against. Only a tree's width away from her, he felt a sudden surge of adrenaline. After all these years, she was finally just inches away from his grasp, just a whisper away. It was by pure luck that he had managed to see her one more time. He vaguely wondered if she was still the same…still willing to fall into his arms, and forgive him for all he had done. He also pondered upon stepping before her, and confessing everything, admitting all his wrongs and correcting all the damage he had inflicted.
But in the end, he could only watch in silence.
And that's when he heard it.
It was faint, barely audible, but…
She was singing.
His mind whirred into motion. She didn't sing. He had never heard her sing before in his entire life. And even more baffling…how would she sing so well?
Her sweet melody carried over to him, sent by the wind. The notes were arranged in a strange fashion he didn't recognize, yet the result was so beautiful, so haunting…that it was beyond explanation by words. He must have felt a thousand ways in one fragment of time, in their little corner of the universe. Just him and her. Passion and sorrow, ecstasy and grief, anguish and bliss…emotions and feelings he had never thought could have existed before, taking him away in a wave of grandeur, of nothingness, and yet, of everything.
He drank it all in greedily, wanting it to last forever, for all eternity, never fading, never dying, infinite and—
"Sasuke-kun?"
His eyes slid open, only to drown in a sea of emerald. It was then when he realized that, from his eagerness to catch every bit of the melody, he had left his sanctuary behind the sakura tree. Now he was standing in the open, for all to see. Especially her. And she was frozen, staring at him with shock still etched into every feature of her face.
Upon second nature, his onyx eyes bled instantly to crimson, and in less than a second…
He was gone.
Her pleading cries chased him down long after he was out of earshot, echoing cruelly in his mind, reminding him constantly of the mistakes he could never correct.
He didn't stop running until dawn broke the horizon the next day. Somehow, he managed to convince himself that she would return, miraculously appear before him and cleanse him of his sins, then take him in her arms and be his lifeline, his divine savior.
She never came.
Eventually, the voices faded, along with his conscience. They would have only served as a burden, a barrier.
But the song remained; every note imprinted into the deepest recesses of his mind, there to stay until the end of time.
He would never forget it as long as he lived.
-X-x-X-x-X-
"Where did you learn to do that?" The sharpness in his voice sounded ugly and unrefined, cutting through the sweet songbird's melody. The tune trailed off as the girl slowly opened her eyes, eyeing him with a faint glimmer of that something he just couldn't identify. Again, she shrugged, still smiling, but at least words accompanied the action.
"I don't really know. I guess I was just born with it."
He almost hissed in frustration. "No. I meant, where did you hear that song well enough to whistle along to it?"
She continued smiling, but the grin seemed transformed a bit at that point, almost into a sad smile. "Oh. That." She paused. "I can't tell you."
He clenched his fist, and turned away from her, trying to control the emotions welling up within him, threatening to burst forth in the form of half-formed sentences, words, and lots of tears. He trembled for a moment, feeling weak and exposed under her gentle gaze. "Why…are you even here?"
"To visit a friend. A very good friend."
"…" Well. That bit was pretty obvious. People didn't just go walking around in cemeteries for the heck of it. He turned back to face her, face reverted to its steel mask of apathy.
"I'm very sorry for your loss." His voice sounded so stiff, so artificial, he almost wanted to kick himself for his lack of humanity.
To his surprise, her eyes crinkled at the corners with a silent laugh, the depths twinkling with sincereity as she replied, "Don't be. I'm fine now that I'm with him again."
He was confused by her cryptic reply, but did not let it show. Either she thought that she was dead too, or she's comforted by the thought of being near her "friend"'s rotting remains. Anyway, it wasn't any of his business.
"So. Why are you here?"
Slightly taken aback by the suddenly forward question, he stalled for a moment, pretending to contemplate upon whether or not he should reveal it to her. Finally, he answered, "I'm visiting a friend too."
"Oh?"
"Hn." He turned around again, scanning the scattered bravestones for the one responsible for this whole visit-gone-wrong.
He found it at the other side of the dead tree; a white marble tablet erected at it's base, between two snaking, thick roots protruding from the ground like a pair of guardians. The surface was near, consisting of clean, straight lettering stating the year of birth and death. Below, a message was carved by a noticeably different (and messier) hand. He could feel the dry smirk tugging at the corner of his lips again. It read: "I'll bring him back. That's a promise. And Naruto Uzumaki never goes back on his promises. Dattebayo!"
"Dobe..." he muttered beneath his breath.
"Sorry?"
He whirled around again, irritation creeping in on him. "Why are you following me?" he demanded rudely, not trying particularly hard to hide his implied meaning.
The young woman shrugged.
"Hn. You're annoying." Immediately, he froze. That phrase had not graced his lips for many, many years. And all of a sudden, he was dropping it for some random stranger whom he had only met in the past few minutes? He didn't know why he felt so protective of that phrase. But he knew vaguely that somewhere in the subconscious half of his mind, it was reserved for only one person. And for that person only.
The young woman cocked her head to one side slightly, polite amusement on her face. He thought she was about to retaliate his slur with a witty comment, but instead, she walked calmly, surely over to him, stopping only when she was right beside him. Then, she peered down upon the grave. After a moment of reading it, she looked up at him.
"Was she your girlfriend?"
"NO." The word escaped his lips before he even had a chance to think it over. The young woman raised an eyebrow, almost teasingly.
"No?" she echoed pleasantly.
"..."
"I see. I'm sorry to be so intrusive." She tipped the rim of her boater hat back slightly, letting both her eyes stare freely into his. They were the deepest emerald, like oceans of jade, catching and reflecting the last rays of the evening sun. They, like the song, were eerily familiar.
But he knew he was only imagining things. She was gone. Forever. And never coming back.
"I'm sorry." His eyes widened. She was leaning in. Closer. And closer. Too close.
Her lips brushed his, so soft and light that he had to really think to make sure she was actually kissing him. Her lips had no taste, and yet the kiss was sweet. But its luscious aroma was evanescent, gone as soon as her lips left his.
He was stunned. It was like the first time he heard her singing, the first time he heard that song. His mind was a whirling tempest, feelings, memories, battling thoughts...
All he knew was that he wanted to do it again.
Kiss her again.
He was just leaning forward again when something soft, small, and silken brush his cheek. Quickly, he caught it before it fell to the ground.
It was a sakura blossom petal.
Slowly, he turned. Behind him was no longer a dead, knarled and ugly tree. Rosy petals rained down on him as he marveled at the newly resurrected sakura tree behind him. Every inch of its once skeletal branches bore delicate blossoms, swaying this way and that, in time with the wind. The entire tree was backed with a halo of soft, white light, despite the dark and golden illumination provided by the setting sun.
The young woman stepped up beside him, her small, smooth hand slipping into his.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she breathed, eyes shining with delight. He answered by dipping his head in again, trying to coax out another kiss. He didn't know why...only knew that there was something about this stranger girl...something that drew him to her like a magnet against all odds...
His lips were only inches from hers when she placed a finger against his lips, her own mouth curved into a serene smile. Without a word, she reached up and pushed back the straw hat, letting it fall to the ground without a sound.
Pink hair flowed out from beneath, its tresses tossed freely into the wind. Her fingers entwined with his, caressing the back of his hand lovingly. Stunned, he could only wordlessly reach forwards, wanting to touch her for the first and last time in his life. His hand reached her hair, and he expected to feel silky softness against his fingertips. Instead, he was greeted with empty space. Confused momentarily, he reached for her pearly cheek. Once more, he came across nothing. And then it dawned on him. His eyes widened. A single word...name escaped his lips. A name forsaken by his mouth and mind for so long it felt strange against his tongue.
"Sakura..." I'm sorry. I left you to die...I'm so sorry.
She smiled, a sad, sorrowful smile, tears balancing on the bottom of her eyes. She reached up, her fingers cool and gentle against his cheek.
"Sasuke-kun..." Don't be. I'm fine...now that I'm with you.
Her touch left his, leaving behind icy spots on his skin. He shivered, suddenly feeling helpless without her touch. But she was retreating, fading slowly, although not slow enough so that he could catch her and hold her forever.
It was like that time he saw and heard her singing. Her entire body was bathed in a soft, glowing light, not unlike that of the sakura tree. Gradually, the light swallowed her as she submerged beneath it...returning to the place where she belonged, there to stay for eternity.
And then she was gone.
Evanescent and fleeting like always.
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A lone bird warbled in the distance.
The wind whispered through the dead branches of the old, knarled tree behind him.
He brushed the smooth surface of the marble gravestone with hesitant fingers. Stars from the heavens twinkled down upon him. He wondered if she was up there, smiling down at him and watching his every move. He hoped she was.
With a barely audible sigh, he pulled away, ready to leave.
A single sakura blossom petal brushed against his cheek, leaving tingling marks of butterfly kisses upon his skin. His mouth twisted into an awkward smile...but a genuine smile nontheless.
It wasn't until he left the cemetery that he found himself humming softly under his breath, in tune with the twittering songbird...and the music of her spirit.
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She was ephemeral...
But she is eternal.
-X-x-X-x-X-
Because I really like the word "ephemeral", the pairing Sasusaku...and also because I was really, really bored :)
And yes, the last two lines don't make any sense, but if you really think about it hard enough...
Constructive criticism much appreciated!!
-xXsilent-musicXx