Because jaylene is a genius, and had recently posted the fic 'bits & bobs' which I highly recommend for a fun, quick read btw.
And after reading chapter 28 in which her minasaku angst au drabble had clearly finished, but I needed more, I decided to write this due to sudden inspiration. So if you want to get a better idea of what the fuck this is about - head over there. And yes I am a shitty author, and yes I haven't updated in ages but hey! I'm a reader not a writer.
Disclaimer: Naruto doesn't belong to me, idea belongs to jaylene, continuation to me
She knew that it wasn't good for her.
He wasn't good for her.
Sakura shouldn't get close, because being near him again would only make things worse. He had a family now and she had no business interfering.
Not when he had Kushina, not when Naruto had a family and not when she had said no.
But visiting him, seeing that he was happy and that Naruto was perfect and that Konoha was fine was more painful than she had expected.
She had left him, abandoned him, and what could've been, what might've been if things were different and the future was different and maybe, then maybe, they could've been something. But it wasn't and there was no use dwelling on the past when she had things to do, places to go to protect her Konoha and to make sure the future was changed.
There were too many sinister plots she still needed to alter, too many things she still needed to fix. After all wasn't that why Sakura had woken up in the past? To change the future?
But what could she do when he was there, surrounded by his fallen enemies, quickly bleeding out despite the frigid cold and staining the snow red?
Nothing. Everything.
Because he was the Hokage, their saviour and strongest. And even though she wasn't formally a Konoha nin, she had been in another reality and she could never, never truly abandon her home. The Will of Fire was engraved into her soul, her loyalty a bond, a shackle, that she would never let go.
And she was a medic, and her oath was to help all. Even if she was running from him.
Before she realised, Sakura was kneeling in front of him, a glowing green hand placed above the oozing wound.
Sakura watched as muscles and tendons were stitched back together, as sweat dripped down his forehead though they were in surrounded by winter and far from the humid warmth that was the Fire Country.
As his acrid yellow hair blew in the sharp wind, and his cheeks unmarred by whiskers, slowly regained colour.
And as his eyes fluttered open, sad blue orbs catching her face.
And as they turned brighter in surprise and darker in distress, while she continued to heal his closing gash, fighting the urge to flee.
"Sakura?" Minato murmurs hoarsely, confusion and hope tracing his words.
She glances down, hiding from his beautifulcuriouswise eyes, watching as the cut turned into a pale scar then as the scar went from an angry red to a silver-white before disappearing. As if the injury had never happened.
Slowly her hands withdraw, and she misses his heat, his warmth. And hates the fact that she does, that she never truly got over him though she should.
It was never meant to be.
She needed to go before something happens.
Because all she could feel was the heavy weight of his gaze, his anxiety and need and oh my god what was she still doing here?
Sakura quickly rises, aiming to run and run and disappear forever and drown her sorrows in alcohol like her old Shisou had. Like she would.
She couldn't deal with this. She was suppose to be done.
And then as if he had never been injured, his hand grasps her ankle, preventing her from leaving and running away like always.
Because Sakura was a coward when it came to love. Her heart had been broken too many times over duty and loyalty and she was done.
"...let me go" she sighs, her voice aching as her heart lurched and cried.
"Why?" Minato asks, sad and aged and tired. "Why did you leave?"
Sakura looks down at him, into his blueblue eyes and remembers Naruto and his hopes and dreams. Her bestfriend who forgot her but she would never nevernevernever forget him.
"Because I needed to" she replied as her heart broke a tiny bit more. It was for the greater good, she thought.
But her heart seemed to scream inside, yelling 'I want you and need you and I wished I never left' and she shut it down. Because a good shinobi had no emotions, showed no emotions, and she still needed to complete her mission. A good shinobi always completed the mission.
Minato sighed. He pulled himself up, still leaning against the harsh bark of the leafless tree. "I waited for you." He says, casually, as if they had met at a cafe and were talking over coffee. (Hers she liked black but Minato liked it with cream and two sugars, she remembered.)
Sakura stays silent, her emerald orbs darkening, turning a heavy jade.
"But I figured you weren't coming back after days turned into months and months turned into years." He continues, sensing she wouldn't reply.
Sakura fidgets, heartbroken and wanting but knowing she couldn't. It was too late now. It had always been too late.
"I loved you, you know? Sometimes I still do." He speaks, voice load and clear, relief evident as if a heavy load had been cleared off his chest.
All Sakura could think of was that it was in past-tense.
Her heart broke.
"Can you come back now?" He asks, as if nothing had happened. "Our hospital still needs more doctors, and Naruto was asking about you" Minato says, scratching his neck. "And I'd really like it if you would come home." He states this hesitantly, desperation breaking his cool facade.
Sakura wants to go.
But she was not part of this perfect new world.
She was not finished with her job.
"Sakura?" He asks like a young kid, his eyes shiny.
She choses then to vanish as his guard fell, flower petals floating as she used her shunshin to run away from him, with his clear eyes and beautiful soul and his heart taken by another.
It was not until she was at least 8 miles away that she broke down crying, tears glistening in the moonlight and reflecting off the snow, as she clawed open her skin, crimson blood spilling through in rivulets.
Years later, she stands hidden in the shadows of the tall trees that surround Konoha. Her pink hair streaked with grey, her eyes barren, her hands empty. She cannot cry though she wants to.
She watches as her other self stands tall next to a weeping Kushina, with her wise, grieving son besides her. A beautiful, brave Hinata comforts him, a gorgeous diamond ring blessing her finger. She hadn't attended their wedding. Not when they got what she couldn't, when they were only together because of what Sakura had sacrificed.
If not, they would be fighting a war, Naruto would be orphaned and Hinata would be broken. She wasn't jealous, she thinks, but her hearts whispers otherwise.
She watches the solemn crowd dressed in black, the heavy grey clouds that linger on the horizon. How fitting she thinks, a broken smirk gracing her face.
She watches as they light the funeral pyre.
She watches the bright yellow flames, like his hair, lick and embrace the wood.
She watches.
But leaves before they say their goodbyes.
A month later Sakura dies.
(lying by the Great Uzumaki Bridge where she had once upon a time cried over a broken boy, a broken boy who no longer existed.)
She lies there with a happy smile on her face, a open broken wound on her chest like where his was.
Self-inflicted the coroner would proclaim. Suicide.
Needed, she would have said.
She had finished her job. She was done. The world was saved. Konoha was safe.
And now she could go see her friends.
She could go see him.