Note to self: I miss you terribly.
This is what... we call a tragedy.
Come back to me, come back to me, to me.
Note to Self
From First to Last
Disclaimer: I do not own the three sentences from Note to Self, or Naruto, or the sentences from Angel.
It was the average love story. Girl loves boy with every fiber of her being, and the boy doesn't even care to give her a second glance. Well, at first. Then they were teammates, and Sakura thought she would die of happiness. She was ecstatic, overjoyed, she was in love. She was blind, but she could see that one thing, that one person, Sasuke. And she thought she would finally show him-she was worth him.
But it turned out different, didn't it? He continued on, ignoring her as he always had. He had to save herk, he saved her life and kept her alife. And then, that one time when she needed to protect him most, she wouldn't have succeded if Ino, Shikamaru, and Chouji hadn't shown up. They should be more credited for it than her. She really was blind until then.
And she realized, she was in for it all. She couldn't just stand by Sasuke, she had to be there. She had to fight with him! She couldn't just be the house-wife who sat at home nursing children and doing house duty, she had always planned it like that. But she realized, Sasuke would need a strong, physical woman who could stand beside him and fight with him . . . and not require saving.
So that was what she worked for, she worked to be stronger. So she wouldn't have to be saved.
And had she succedeed? She wasn't sure. She didn't even know quite where the man she was so blindly in love, infatuated, obsessed, with was. He just left her behind, and in this whole eight damned years, she hadn't seen one glimpse of him since that day.
And it was Christmas. She always spent it alone, well since her Mother had died a few years ago from an illness that Sakura hadn't been skilled enough to cure yet, and it was something that probably couldn't have been cured then. That was another thing Sakura blamed herself, but that's not the matter at hand.
Christmas. Bright greens and reds, silver's and blue's, golds mingled with all combinations. Sakura used to be enchanted by the lights, the decorations, the novelty of the holiday. In the past years, she had spent it praying, wishing, hoping dreaming. She wanted so desperately to see her Sasuke again, but he would no longer be the same.
A picture. Of course, it was four and a half years old now, so it was already outdated. Naruto had given it to her, he had received it from a spy that they had managed to place in Otogakure no Sato. It was already crumpled, and torn. And there was a rip in it, a jagged one so it ruined some of the picture, but it was her Sasuke in it. Black hair past his chin, obsidian eyes staring off at something in the other direction of the camera, still doning a wide collar. And his features were sharper, older, those of a teen.
And Sakura carried the picture with her everywhere.
Now?
Sakura was remembering, staring into the sky, wanting, as she always did on nights like this when she couldn't spend them with her friends, when they were with their families when she didn't want to burden them with herself, with herself caught in the past . . . caught in what would probably never be, she dare not admit.
Naruto and Hinata, Ino and Shikamaru, TenTen and Neji, they were all together, and the others were with students from year younger or older, or with civlians. Except Lee, he wouldn't give up on her. Just like she wouldn't give up on Sasuke, she truely felt sorry for Lee and she would've tried to be with him, but she wouldn't be happy. She would be living a lie, and that was the exact opposite of what she wanted. She would hate to make Lee think she really felt intimately towards him.
Days like this? She wanted to cry, but she never did. And the pitiful thing was, that on his birthday and every Christmas she would always buy a gift for him, not anything cheap. Something nice and expensive-in hopes . . . that he might return for it. And she kept them too, the high brand kunai and shruiken, the special scrolls, the books, everything. She never once touched it other than to put it in a safe place for him.
Sakura shivered, rather suddenly. It was getting colder, and her fingers and nose were numb. SHe pulled her jacket and scarf tighter, but it didn't do much good. Blankly, she realized it had begun to snow, and a thin layer was begining to stick to the cold roof on which she sat and the ground below. It was beautiful, already. They hadn't had much snow last year.
She would have to go in soon, last year she had fallen asleep and gotten sick. She had been in the hospital with a sever case of pneumonia for a few weeks, it didn't seem to want to leave her system, because as soon as it had left, something brought it back again.
She would stay a little longer though, to watch the snowfall, and to remember.
Footsteps, they touched the roof silently with only a dull pat coming from the small layer of snow that had fallen. The white fluff had fallen all over the village and it must've been a few hours since it began. There were no footsteps leading back to the fire escape-the only way for someone to get up this high without hassle or difficulty. She must've been out this whole time.
He sighed, this was the fifth year he had seen her like this. Fallen asleep on the roof-sometimes freezing, sometimes not. She brought out a blanket sometimes, because she expected to fall asleep. He expected that hald the time, she didn't know she would, so she just carried a thick jacket up. Long pink hair fell into her face and on the snow-some parts of the cotton-candy colored locks were buried in the snow.
Her face was pale, not much suntime apparently, but red from cold painted her cheeks and nose her mouth was open just a small bit. The thick red coat she wore was unbuttoned, but she was huddled into a small ball, so it did serve a quite well. Her whole body had a light covering of snow over it, from where she had remained stationary, asleep, lying down. She looked cold, he noted.
It was pitiful. He saw her waste herself away for him. He didn't deserve her, he didn't deserve to exist.
She was smart, Sakura was. She was beautiful, feminine and gorgeous now that she was fully grown. Her lashes framed the gorgeous emerald eyes, and her pale face framed those and her bangs fell messily into her face most everytime he had seen her.
And he stood right there, his own coat hardly keeping him warm, his scarf not tied tightly around his neck. Hair fell into his face and over his ears, keeping them warm. He was chilly, but he didn't mind. Standing there, he just watched her sleep. Last year she had gotten herself sick, he had heard her breathing heavily and coughing by the time he left-well near dawn.
He wouldn't stay that late this time.
And in fact, he decided that he would leave now. So he wouldn't get caught up watching her breathe again, so he wouldn't get caught up with wondering why she waited for him.
He would never come back, he was to damn stubborn to see that there were still people who would give every damn thing for him, by now she was the only one who would do that. But the others still would fight for him, if he let them.
The man paused, he was almost at the escape. But he turned around, feet crunching in the snow as he walked back over to her placing a strong, gloved hand on her shoulder shaking gently, a little harder as she was caught in deep sleep that she didn't seem to want to leave.
"Sakura, Sakura. Wake up, you'll get sick."
She made a muffled noise, and it was a good few moments before she sat up, dusting her head of snow and pulling her coat closer as she couldn't stop shaking. She didn't look back at the speaker until she was completely stood up, "Er, thanks." She looked to see the speaker, the man who the voice belonged to.
Her mouth fell open, and he had never seen emerald eyes hold more emotion. More sadness, more longing, more need, more happiness.
"Gods!" She whispered, throwing her arms around him, tears springing from her eyes and down her freezing cold face.She wrapped her arms around him, tight as if she were afraid he would slip away one more time. He returned the favor, both keeping the other a few degrees warmer.
"I-I'm so happy . . . You're back, you really are!" She sobbed, words hardly audible, in the manner you couldn't tell them apart from the attempted to be muffled sobs that were coming from her at the same time, she couldn't hold it back and her heart was bursting with so much emotion she just couldn't control it.
"I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas, this year . . . instead of leaving you alone again."
Spend all your time waiting
for that second chance
for a break that would make it okay
Angel
Sara Mchlachlan