title: every little thing

summary: Puppy love. Unrequited love. True love. Impossible love. The romance that was not meant to be. Seven years later, we were supposed to have moved on. AU. SasuSaku

notes: because the 23rd approaches and I need to vent.

lyrics from We The Kings' 'Over You'

[disclaimer: Naruto does not belong to me.]

written: (start) 18/09/11 – 1:13 a.m.

.:.

Here's to the nights I cared,

To the night you left

I'll pour you a drink

And toast to the end

Here's the scene of the crime

Left me here to die

I'm finally over you

.:.

I wonder how long it has been since I last saw him, as I stand before 'our place of memories,' the place where we spent most of time after school during third grade. I chuckled. Who am I kidding? There's no use wondering how long it has been, because I know how long it has been. Seven years later and I could still remember the exact hour and the exact date when I last laid my eyes on him, and exchanged the fewest of words.

I am seventeen now. In five days, he's turning seventeen too. I haven't seen him for seven years, six months and some days—I could use a day calculator to count the exact days but I can't be bothered. After all, I am trying my best to let go of him, to forget him.

I haven't chatted with him (through facebook or messenger) in about two months—it was our only communication. Texting him costs too much, and so is calling him. Skype is also a possible practical option, but that would be pushing it too far.

After all, I was the one who nagged him to make an account to facebook—I was his very first friend, you know!—so it'd easier for me (and him) to contact each other.

What a mistake that was, though.

Him, having a facebook account, and knowing what is going on in his life breaks my heart. Why, you ask? Because he has a girlfriend. At least, I think he does. His profile didn't have the "In a relationship" status, but I saw a rather intimate photo of him with a girl. Well. that if you call simply standing next to a girl "intimate."

Talk about being possessive and jealous huh?

I guess I am not just used to seeing him with a girl who is not me.

I suppose it's natural that he has other female friends though. He transferred to another school during fourth grade (we were turning ten years old then), and we didn't have any form of communication. Sure there is this thing called phone, and I have his home phone number, but what I am supposed to say? It would only be awkward. Not to mention, my parents (especially my mother) were—still is—quite strict with me being close friends with a guy.

The first year of his absence was hard. I didn't realize how lonely I was without him, how he was my only (closecloseclose) friend, and that I have no one else without him, until that year. Naturally, I had a new best friend—a girl, this time and she was tolerable—but he was still the best of all the best.

Did I mention I had this huge crush on him since second grade?

I didn't have another crush on another guy until two years later. I guess I fell in love with him, puppy love but love nonetheless. For the next four years, I hoped nothing else than for him to come back, or to at least catch a glimpse of him.

I caught a glimpse of him. The year before I migrated out of the country, I did.

I was at the mall, then, with my cousin. We were just walking, but we were in a hurry. I can't remember to this day, why, but we were. I remembering heading towards the department store when I thought I saw him. We passed by each other—I think it was his dad he was with, and I turned so fast I thought I had a whiplash. I saw him turn towards me, too, but I could've just imagined it.

To this day, I regret not going after him, and confirming he truly was my best friend.

That was freshman year. I stayed in the same school throughout the years, because I hoped he'd come back. How foolish and naive I was? So so so stupid!

Freshman year was when many of my friends from elementary school who transferred to another school came back, so I kinda hoped he would too. Ironically, freshman year was my last year in that school, and I thought nothing but 'what if' he came back and I was no longer there?

During the middle of sophomore year, I took an evening flight to the United States. I never saw him again.

Less than a year later, in tenth grade, my lab partner asked me out. When he did, the first thing that popped into my mind was:

"What would he think if he learns I got a boyfriend?"

I told the guy to give me a day to answer him. He did. The following day, I rejected him, spouting all these nonsense about my parents being strict, and me prioritizing school. He was alright with it, we were never 'officially' dating but we acted like it anyway.

It was August of that year—or was it July?—I can't remember, really. But I knew it was at least a week after the twenty third, marking my first year abroad. Yep, I arrived in the U.S. on the 23rd of July. I didn't know it was his birthday, though—I forgot it was his birthday. Anyway, either July or August, that was the time I found him through a mutual friend—one of our classmates from third grade who I kept in contact with—who told me they are school mates. What a shocker! Truly, it was. It was such a small world.

That mutual friend, whose name is Naruto by the way, said that my bff didn't recognize him. I asked him if he has his contact details but he didn't. Luckily I have another friend going to that school, and asked her about him. She was able to get his email address and messenger id through a mutual friend of theirs.

I felt like a freaking stalker. I didn't care anyways, though I was nervous as hell. What if he doesn't remember me?

I added him. And sent him a 'hello, long time no see. Do you still remember me? It's your best friend, Sakura' message. A week later, he replied, and said he did. He still remembered me when he didn't remember Naruto? That's got to mean something, right?

We chatted almost every night until the end of that year. I kept telling him to go make a facebook account, and he did as I had told you—almost half a year later—and OMG! I was his first friend! I am sorry if I am repetitive.

I'd pour my heart out to him during our chats. When I told him how lonely I feel, he told me I didn't need to be sad and lonely anymore, because "he'd be there for me."

However, entering eleventh grade was not a walk in the park. I had to stay away from social networking sites and internet to concentrate. That didn't mean I stopped thinking and daydreaming about him.

So our last string—a rather fragile string—of communication went static. We both became too busy to chat with each other, but we never failed to post a birthday greeting to each other. That always made me happy.

As I entered twelfth grade, so did my third year out of the country. I haven't been home for almost three years. Plane tickets are so expensive, you know? Not even my part-time job was able to sustain it.

The desire to buy a damn expensive ticket to go home escalated when I found him through facebook, but there was nothing I could do about it. So I was stuck there. But I was not without excuses as to why I could not go home and see him. I fed my mind and wove a web of lies to myself several excuses as to why I could not go home, not yet.

Being in senior year and graduating in three months left no room for excuses. My studies were the last excuse I had left of me, because I go on a rampage to go home. Then one day, during my long term abstinence from facebook, I needed to access my account, and that was when I saw his picture with a girl.

I realized he had moved on, and I needed too. My memories of him are deteriorating, after all.

So I kept telling myself in a mantra that I didn't need to go home anymore, because I am home. Homehomehomehomehomehome.

.:.

When it rains it really pours

Now the sun is kicking in

.:.

I repeated that to myself all over again, before crying myself to sleep. That's what I always do, crycrycrycry. Such a weakling. I've crying since I got here. I get emotionally most especially during July—not just because it's his birthday, but because it was time I arrived here.

Don't get me wrong, I don't hate it there. I love it there; it was a paradise to me. I just wanted to see him is all, to get the closure I never got. Because the last words we exchanged on that fateful day of the twenty-first of March was not "goodbye" but "hi."

.:.

There's so much I wanna say

Something you won't understand

.:.

I never got to say goodbye to him. But most of all, I never got to tell him how much I felt about him, how much I loved him.

As I said in the beginning, I am currently standing before the 'place of our memories'—a grotto of the Blessed Virgin Mary, where we'd sit and talk and wait for our cars to fetch us. It is located outside the school, but we always lied to the security guard at the gates that our parents were already there to pick us up so we'd be able to hang out there.

In case you're getting confused... well, yes, I am (finally) back to Japan. I just arrived yesterday morning. I took the evening flight back to Japan the day of my graduation—it was my parents' graduation gift. Now, I am back to our special place.

I didn't tell him, nor anyone for that matter, that I am going home or that I am already home. I decided I won't try to see him anymore, for the fear of doing something foolish.

But I came to this place to retrieve something important, something I left when I was nine and young and naive and foolish.

"What are you doing here?" a masculine voice asked behind me. I didn't recognize the voice, but he didn't seem to be a bad guy, so I didn't care. I didn't turn towards him, but I answered him nonetheless.

"I came here to retrieve something."

"Oh?"

"Something important."

"You left something important to you here?" I could hear the incredulity in his voice.

"I didn't exactly leave it here, you know," I tell him, but I refuse to face him.

The silence that followed was a loud unspoken question in my ears.

"Long ago, I dropped my heart here. Now, I came here to retrieve it."

"Surely, by now, you have taken it back right?" I can hear the amusement in his tone.

The shake of my head tell him otherwise.

Before I knew it, I am pouring my heart out to a guy—a stranger nonetheless.

"I didn't realize when I dropped it, that it also broke into shattered pieces. I was trying to collect the pieces... to glue them back together."

I am so caught up in my dialogue I didn't feel him approach, moving closer to me, until he is at my back, his breath warm against the back of my neck.

"You know why you can't fix it, Sakura?" I stiffen, how did he know my name? Surely I would remember if I tell a stranger my name?

Before I could open my mouth to say something though, he continued speaking.

"Because you were picking at the wrong pieces."

.:.

I know it took a little while

I know I cried a couple tears

Every step was like a mile

Every day a million tears

.:.

written: (finish) 18/09/11 – 2:25 a.m. [because i don't have a life, and i am insomniac]

i didn't like the ending, but it was the best i could come up with, i think. though i leave the last line to your interpretation, though. please read and review! i wish to hear (or rather, read) your thoughts about this.

to those readers of Pride be damned out there, second and third chapter are already written like, since last week... but i can't think of a better ending for the second chapter.

i also have another story coming up: a post war multi-chaptered drabble fic. the prologue's posted in my lj account.