I don't know what I was thinking when I wrote this. I was just listening to the song Almost Lovers by A Fine Frenzy, and this came and morphed into what it is. I hope you enjoy to some extent.
Your fingertips across my skin
The palm trees swaying in the wind
Images
You sang me Spanish lullabies
The sweetest sadness in your eyes
Clever trick
She could remember the times when they would lie together after a long, physically, mentally, and emotionally battering mission, absently trailing invisible patterns and lines into the other's skin.
She could remember the visit to the Sun Country, when they had to act as a newly married couple to get access to the government's housing and steal a scroll from the neighbor. Her favorite part about that trip had been how they had left their image, strolling down the brick road of Sun country, the sky a pretty pink and purple sunset, a cool breeze across their skin, and palm trees swaying along with the breeze, their large leaves making a gentle 'swssshhh' sound.
She could remember all those things, but she couldn't keep away the bitter smile from coming, now could she stop the bittersweet pain from engulfing her when she remembered. She balanced carefully on a thin line; forbidden to remember and terrified to forget.
She could remember all the times when they would sit on her roof and watch the sunset and gaze at the stars for hours while he sung to her. Back when he would hold her and she would feel like her universe was complete, like she was safe and would never be in danger again. Yes, she could remember the glittering stars and shining moon that cast beams of nighttime light into his blond spiky hair, bleaching it an odd silver-white, and the stars reflected in his wide cerulean eyes that she would often find herself drowning in. She could remember that night perfectly, the first night that he had told her that he loved her.
She could remember those same cerulean eyes gazing at her, sharing her pain at the loss of their teammate; his best friend, her once-upon-a-time crush. She remembered the sweet look that he would give her, try to ease her burden by taking it upon himself. She hated when his eyes were darkened by sadness like that. She had always wanted them to shine in their usual friendly, boisterous way.
Well, I never want to see you unhappy
I thought you'd want the same for me
She did, she really did hate seeing him unhappy as he was, cooped up in the village while all his friends took missions and risked their lives. He was cooped in the village because of the large and powerful group of notorious criminals that were ever-searching for him.
He was happy now; he was laughing and having a good time with his friends, his eyes sparkling with mirth. How she wished she could see those eyes sparkle once more.
Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I'm trying not to think about you
Can't you just let me be?
So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
Should've known you'd bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do
She could remember all the goodbyes that they had. Numerous goodbyes; too many to count. But they always came back, pleaded for the other to take them back into their arms. They needed each other; to live for, to die for, just to BREATHE they needed the other there.
She tried not to think about him, honestly, she did, but really, who could blame her? Those were the happiest few years of her life. She was never far from him, and on the rare occasions that they WERE apart, they never even looked at another of the opposite sex, and they could barely think without the other in a two-mile proximity.
Goodbyes were always hard for both of them; they had said it to each other too often, and had been told by so many people when they were young. They had had their hearts broken, their dreams crushed, their minds shattered too many times. The other had always been their strings, the one thing that held them together, that made all the pieces fit.
So many times they had both been considered to have a luckless romantic nature, since neither could stay with someone for more than three months, a year at best. Except they could stay with each other for forever. But when the goodbyes, as numerous and short-lasting as they were, came, they hurt more than any other. It hurt so bad that neither could speak to ANYONE for a few days.
It was obvious to everyone that they were meant for each other, MADE for each other, created to be the other's life support. A match made in heaven. If THAT was so true, then where was he? THEY knew. But they didn't care. He was just another shinobi, just another pawn sacrificed in the line of duty; despite how many hearts he touched and people he made turn their viewpoint around.
We walked along a crowded street
You took my hand and danced with me
Images
And when you left, you kissed my lips
You told me you would never, never forget
These images
No
She remembered the time when there was the Bi-Annual Summer Festival in the village. She remembered laughing and talking happily with friends new and old, never leaving his side, him never leaving hers; never straying. They held hands, walking down the crowded streets, the familiar bustle of civilians and merchants reaching their ears but not necessarily being heard. It all just faded into the background, amid the pastel sunset ablaze with pinks, oranges, purples, and light blues, amid the joyous laughter, amid the shining stars and exploding fireworks and the colored kimonos shimmering with each individual's color and style; every part contributing into a harmonious, joyous blur pf happiness and companionship.
Each thing faded into the background while they danced amid the motley mix of civilians and shinobi alike. They danced together, the each and every factor of their life fading to the back of their mind until, to them; it was only the two of them in the universe. And they could live like that.
On the potentially suicide mission that he undertook, they could not say the final goodbye; the goodbye that they both knew would bring an end to their one true, complete time of happiness.
On her porch they stood, his sad cerulean eyes meeting her own sad emerald ones. They could say goodbye; that was temporary. But final goodbyes, the lasting kind, are the hardest. He kissed her; a parting kiss, one of finality and despair that was sweet and long, but had an urgent edge to it, as if he was savoring their last moments.
He promised he would never forget, as did she. They promised to never forget each other, to never forget the memories, both bitter and sweet. They wouldn't forget; forgetting would be a goodbye, one that they couldn't afford to make.
After the sun set while they drowned in the depths of the others' eyes, he finally tore himself away. She couldn't stand to tell him that dreadful word that they had used so many times before. So all she said was 'goodnight'
Well, I'd never want to see you unhappy
I thought you'd want the same for me
Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I'm trying not to think about you
Can't you just let me be?
So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
Should've known you'd bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do
I cannot go to the ocean
I cannot drive the streets at night
I cannot wake up in the morning
Without you on my mind
So you're gone and I'm haunted
And I bet you are just fine
After the news came, she was as worthless to her village as dirt. Well, dirt would have been an improvement. She was a shell, a mere shadow of the former strong, proud female. She could not take missions, for she would glimpse water or the ocean and remember his shining cerulean eyes. She could not do assassination missions, for she would hesitate while staring at the stars, reminiscing and remembering how they made his hair shine. She was worthless in the hospital, for despite her great talent, she could not stand to be around an injured or ill person, for she would automatically think of how he would have looked, since she was banned from being there for him, banned from healing him. Banned because of what was sealed inside him, the very same thing that healed too slow to save him.
She could barely wake up in the morning, since in her dreams she could be with him, happy once more, however temporary. She never wanted to wake up; not in a world without him. A world without him is a world that was not worth living, a world that was bleak and hopeless.
Despite how many times she tried to lock away the memories, thoughts of him lingered in her head. She couldn't eat without imagining him next to her, laughing about something one of his friends had said, and she couldn't even take a shower without imagining him banging on the door, saying that he really needed to take a whizz. But when she opened the door, there was nothing there, and she would realize once again that he was gone, would never return to her.
She had a haunted look to her, one that not even her best friend could overlook. She didn't just look and act like a shell of a person. She WAS just a shell. Just a body, a material object that lived a mundane life and would eventually just rot away. She was haunted by the image of him, haunted by the fact that he was gone from her. She would never hold him again, never touch his baby-soft skin, never touch his surprisingly silky hair, and never see his sparkling eyes once more.
Did I make it that
Easy to walk right in and out
Of my life?
Honestly, she wondered what she had done wrong. What she had done to somehow force him to take the suicide mission. It was her fault, she knew it. Somehow, it was. She had done something wrong; something terrible. She didn't know what she had done, but she had done SOMETHING, otherwise he wouldn't have left her. Otherwise he would be here, safe in her arms, whispering that he loved her and would never leave again.
A year after she found out the news and could no longer function in the village, she retired from being a kunoichi and bought a small two-room cottage in the middle of Rain Country and lived there alone, occasionally visited by her old teammates, but they could never stay long. After all, she was a mere shell, not at all the Cherry Blossom that they had loved dearly her whole life.
She laughed at the thought. Of course. She was surprised that they came anymore. She wouldn't speak much, she rarely left her four acres of property that she lived on. She thrived off of her large vegetable garden.
But she wasn't completely lonely. She took care of the wildlife that lived around her and on her property, caring for tiny orphaned animals and old or injured animals like he would want her to. She did it all for him, lived for the false hope that the report was wrong, that he was still alive, he just needed time to come back home.
If she could turn beck time, she would have taken the mission instead of him. She would have lain down her life for him, just so that she could watch his dreams be accomplished from her perch in Heaven or her torture chair in Hell. And she would endure it all, because he was happy.
She stood facing her large glass window, watching as the rain poured from the heavens, splashing and dripping and dampening everything that it's light touch caressed. She watched the tears of the gods as it turned her world into a mass of grays and blues and smudges lines, a perfect portrait of what it would look like if painted on a canvas.
She slowly walked forward and touched her petite pale hand to the cold glass. She saw her reflection in the glass, morphed slightly by the rain outside. But she could still make out her pink hair, empty emerald eyes that were devoid of any flickers of emotion or life, and her thin frame, lean from her diet of only vegetables and fruits and her near-constant training for naught.
She walked along that line, that line that she would always walk along until her time came to join him. Forbidden to remember, terrified to forget. But sometimes even she tumbles off the edge.
Goodbye, my almost lover
Goodbye, my hopeless dream
I'm trying not to think about you
Can't you just let me be?
So long, my luckless romance
My back is turned on you
Should have known you'd bring me heartache
Almost lovers always do
