A/N: Ugh. I'm not satisfied with this, but I liked the ending.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. It would be a nice birthday present, though...
She swallowed the bile in her throat and crawled towards him, across the field of mangled bodies and charred faces. She knew some of those faces, knew them as well as she knew her own, but couldn't bear to look at them. The tears would come, and she couldn't cry until later, when she could lock herself in a room, away from everything and everyone, and drown herself in alcohol and rain and memories.
That would be nice, she thought, trying to smile bitterly, but the muscles in her face didn't seem to want to move. Strange.
Sakura hoped that he was still breathing. She'd sit by him until he died, but she wouldn't kill him. She'd leave that honor to Naruto, who had already plunged a hand burning with the power of the Rasengan into his chest. She wasn't even sure that Naruto's heart was still beating, but she wasn't sure her own was, either.
He isn't as beautiful as he was before, or maybe it's because his hands and hair and lips (andeyesandmouthandfaceandclothes) are stained red. The red is a whirl, an imprint, on his pale skin, and she almost reverently reaches out to touch it, as if she might be struck down by lightning if she does. Instead, a hand reaches up and grabs her wrist, and gray eyes met green, and it's as if she's drowning in electricity. Sakura is aware that she is trembling, but he isn't.
"Tell me a story," he says, the effort of those four words making him cough up blood. For a moment, she ponders healing him, but dismisses the idea. Healing him would mean being a traitor to Konoha, but, that wouldn't matter, would it? She probably won't live to make it back there, anyway.
"Alright," she replies, and hugs her knees to her chest. Dried blood sticks under her fingernails (under her skin, under her skin, under her skin) and brings the lines on her palms to life. "I'll tell you a story. I can't promise you a happy ending, though, Sasuke-kun..."
The attached honorific, meant to show affection, is meant to be a slap in the face. He smirks at her; smirks weakly, nevertheless, but smirks and nods. "Then don't make it a happy one," he says with a twitch of his shoulders, as if he meant to shrug.
"Once upon a time," she begins, staring off into the distance; into a different time, where things were simple and good and uncomplicated. "Once upon a time, there were three people. One was a girl, with unnatural hair and bright eyes, and she was in love. There were two boys, one who wanted to become the King." At this point, Sakura nearly slipped up and said 'Hokage' but bites her lip her at the last moment and swallows down the lump that's formed in her throat. "Then, there's another boy, a dark shadowed boy who never pays attention to the girl, lest to call her annoying, who wants to hurt someone, who hurt him very, very much..."
--
Hours later, the ANBU team dispatched to clean up the bloody battlefield finds her head on his chest, their hands clasped, their hearts against each other. Neither are breathing.
--
Sasuke didn't ask for a happy ending. Sakura wasn't planning on it. They didn't get one.
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