A/N: Dang, it has been a looong time since I last posted on here. Well, this is my first Naruto fic. No pairings.
Disclaimer: Would I be writing this if I owned? I think not.
"Why the flowers?" she wonders aloud, though it's more of a quiet, whispered statement, than a question.
Before her, what once was a field of flowers is now the remnants of a battlefield. No more are the happy flowers the carried the memories of the happy days, the good days. Instead, wilted, dead, blood spattered and stained flowers are left. Her pale, dainty hand gently plucks a white flower from the ground, the droplets of red blood standing out in sharp contrast.
"Such a pity." She continues. "I liked them."
Slowly, the flower slips from her hand as the wind blows by, whipping her pink hair about her. A tear escapes her emerald eyes and slowly, silently rolls down her porcelain-like face. Her hand reaches up and wipes it away. No other tears fall, held back by will alone as memories drift in and out of thought. The good times and the bad pay a visit to her mind, yet her face does not betray the emotions they bring; her first friend, her first love, his betrayal and departure, her determination, her teachers, her friends, her family, and her failures. She looks to the sky with a quiet sigh.
A delicate smile rests upon her lips and her hand drifts up to rest upon her chest. One bare foot peeks out from underneath the hem of her simple white gown, then another. As she moves through the flowers, the blood seeps into the dress. Yet, she cannot bring herself to care. There are more important things to her.
"Poor boys." She murmurs as she kneels in their blood and strokes their cold, lifeless faces. "You shouldn't have fought, you silly boys. You needn't have fought to the death over such a matter." She turns to the body of the light-haired man. "He would have done the right thing, in the end, you know. He always has. It was just a matter of time." Her gaze shifts to the dark-haired man. "You could've, at least, told us. Would've made it easier, less painful."For me."You poor, poor boys."
She smiles bitter sweetly and stands, blood stains on her gown. The woman seemingly glides through the flowered battlefield as she wanders through, fingertips brushing the blood-covered plants within her reach. Soon, she has walked the whole field. No more blood is on the flowers, but rather her dress. As if, she has taken the consequences upon herself, cleansing the precious, innocent flowers. The dead plants are gathered into her hands, a large bouquet befitting death, and she lays it upon the ground. Alone, she digs their graves and carves their names into stone. Alone, she buries them. The bouquet lies between them, honoring neither, yet both at the same time. She tends the field and never leaves. The field hiding the boys is more important so she begins to slowly fade away. Then, she is gone, her body lost in the field.
"You can still see her spirit there, in the field. She watches over it, even after her physical body has passed away. Sometimes, you may even see one or both of the two men with her." Wizened blue eyes closed for a moment as she finished her tale. "That is the history of the Field of Seven."
"But Moegi-baa-sama, why is it called the Field of Seven if there are only three people?" One of her many grandchildren asks.
The elderly woman's eyes glazed over, as if staring off into a far off time, as memories of a certain pink-haired woman and her teammates flood her mind. "Because of the three people that belonged to Team Seven: Sakura Haruno, Sasuke Uchiha, and Naruto Uzumaki. The Field of Seven was the last chapter of their lives and their story, yet their legacy lives on."
A/N:R&R please! Flames welcome!
Edit: Ino is no longer the grandmother because it interferes with a later oneshot in the series.