He left.
i. because fate is a bitch
She felt strangely detached. It didn't hurt as much as she thought it would. Just stop thinking, just stop thinking, stop thinking, don't feel, don't feel, and don't feel.
(So why couldn't she walk in and gasp at Naruto's wounds and smile at his apologies and act like everything was–oh God, everything is so effing screwed up–not screwed up?)
Because reality was waiting for her behind that door.
And she didn't want to find out if it really hurt as much as everyone said it did.
Then Tsunade came along, and of course she had to open the damned door, because what would the fifth Hokage think of her if she didn't have the courage to turn a metal doorknob?
She nearly screamed when she saw him. She didn't know what she could scream–probably a long string of unintelligible words. Like,
"ohmyGodwhatthehelldidhedotoyouyhowcouldhehowcouldhehowcouldhe?"
And all she could think of was, why? He's our friend,she screamed (inwardly), as Naruto's bandages and the beatdowndiscourageddeafeated look in his eyes proved her wrong.
It took every ounce of determination she had to keep her mouth shut. However, determination apparently did not apply to her inner voice.
Then he apologized and then she suddenly couldn't bear to be just standing there. Fake smile in place. Babbling-stupid-stuff-that-no-one-gives-a-damn-about-because-Sasuke's-gone-but-you-don't-want-to-remember-him-so-you're-babbling gears in motion. Fling the curtains open like it's a typical afternoon, so you can all enjoy the sunlight.
Of course, Naruto decided to open his mouth then.
"I'll keep my word, Sakura. It's the promise of a lifetime!"
She looked at him, sparkling in the light streaming in from the windows. Blonde hair, blue eyes, the features of a thousand alpha-male-pretty-boy types. Why had it always been Sasuke, she wondered hazily, and not Naruto?
(Because the blonde of his hair was too bright, the blue of his eyes too startling. Because he was too much. Besides, he didn't know when to keep his mouth shut. Besides, he was a troublemaker. Besides, he had a nine-tailed-fox demon sealed within him.)
Why, then, had Sasuke, the genius, the one who everyone said was going to do Great Things, left Konoha a villain, and why had Naruto returned a noble friend?
Because fate's a bitch, because Sasuke wanted more and no matter what he gets it'll never be enough, because Naruto is simply an idiot, Sakura thought, and the perfect words for that idiot came to mind: thank you.
He's magic and myth
As strong as what I believe
A tragedy with
More damage than a soul should see
And do I try to change him?
So hard not to blame him
Hold on tight,
hold on tight.
ii. kiss those rose-tinted lenses goodbye
It was slightly easier to pick up the pieces of all her dreams and of his and Naruto's friendship/rivalry when all their tears had dried. Of course, time had something to do with it. Three years is a pretty long time, especially when you're training with two ex-Sannin.
Some pieces just naturally fell back into place, because, as they say, some things never change.
("I have had it, you idiot, you hear me? I have had it!" Cue the famed chakra fist.)
Other pieces didn't quite fit.
("Heh, and do you remember the time we were camping out and I put a toad in Sasuke's sleeping–"
"Naruto, you blonde airhead, shut up."
"You're blonde too, Ino-chan!"
Sakura would just smile at the squabble that ensued and pretend she hadn't heard his name, because that would have opened the floodgates to years of memories that hurt to remember.)
.
.
.
.
.
And things changed.
She still had the (newly chin-length) pink hair, the colour of her namesake. Still had the big forehead, though it didn't annoy her so much any more. Who thinks about things like foreheads being too big when your first (and only) crush is plotting the annihilation of your hometown?
She'd grown taller, though, with slender muscles covering her arms. There might have been a time when she would have screamed in horror and sheathed her biceps in billowy sleeves, in an attempt to look like the delicate flower petal she wasn't. Now she displayed them with pride. Sleeves would've only gotten torn on the battlefield–and she'd learned the hard way that things flying about your person are impractical, because it gives the enemy an extra grip to hold on to. And anyway, it had been those fists, those arms which had helped protect Konoha–how could she be ashamed of them?
The real change, though, was in her eyes.
The rose-coloured glasses had been torn off and broken when he left. It did huge things to her mint-green eyes. They used to be leaping, burning, sparkling with innocence and carefree days. Now that sparkle had gone out, and it wouldn't come back.
Small price to pay for becoming stronger, she had said, after Ino commented on them once.
She stopped dead when she realized that it sounded exactly the sort of thing Sasuke would say.
And I see different shades now
I'm almost -never- afraid now
But when I think I'll be okay
I am always wrong, cause...
iii. keep wishing
She didn't dream any more.
Not now that she knew how much it hurt to see one crushed in the hands of someone she had loved.
(Like more than she'd thought was humanly possible.)
But she had plenty of wishes, yes, most of them practical ones. At the top of her list was protect Konoha. Right after that was make sure Naruto stays the idiot that he is. Another was become the best medic in Konoha–besides Tsunade-sensei, of course. Also, understand Sai better–never ever ever take him as a substitute for…
(Her thoughts stopped there.
Interrupted as abruptly as her perfectly normal early-teen-life had been.)
Then she'd try and disappear into the sweet release of sleep. And after trying for a while, she would walk out to her balcony.
That little space overlooking the streets of Konoha was, for her, was a link between the Sakura she was and the Sakura she had left behind–it had seen plenty of her old dreams and present thoughts. The crisp morning early-morning air and the evening mist, which conveniently came at the times of day when she was at leisure, were perfect for looking up into the ethereal heavens and thinking and thinking and thinking. She thought a lot–about her medical studies, little happenings that had made her and Ino scream with laughter, how Naruto could be so oblivious to the obvious (i.e. Hinata's quiet admiration.)
Once upon a long-ago time–when a smile from him meant everything to her–she'd imagined the balcony was straight out of a fairy tale, and he would, one day, after seeing past her large forehead and irritatingly flat chest, come to serenade her. Like she was a freaking princess and he was a prince.
Now she shook her head, a sad smile slowly curling the corners of her mouth. It would've hurt a lot less if she had not dreamed so much. Reality hurt–she knew that All Too Well–but what hurt even more was having her heart (containing so many damn fragile hopes and dreams) broken.
Heartbreak.
Heartbreak, Sakura decided, was watching the boy-of-your-childhood-and-mostly-teenage-dreams walk away from you without a second glance, with only your name hanging from his lips and two words to keep you hanging on to a tiny fragment of a hope that he maybe one day would return.
("Sakura.
Thank you.")
Thank you? For what? Being a burden on Team 7? She had often wondered.
Some guys, according to the (nearly forgotten) stash of sugary-sweet teenage romances sent to exile at the back of her wardrobe, liked to keep girls guessing after a date, with an enigmatic smile and possibly a tiny kiss.
Sasuke kept her guessing for two years, with a blow to the back of the head before he walked away and never looked back.
(Or maybe he did. She didn't know. She didn't want to find out.
Liar, her inner voice whispers.)
All right, so she did want to know. So maybe she did allow herself to sink back into memories. So maybe she did still want to see him again. Even though it would probably break her heart a-l-l-o-v-e-r-a-g-a-i-n to see him even more broken than he was when they were still just ordinary Genin.
And maybe a tiny part of her wanted to just go back: to turn that ever-flowing hourglass of their lives upside down and become that
weak,
silly,
innocent,
carefree,
little girl she used to be.
But just a tiny part.
That would mean trading your new strength and independence; it would be a waste of time, the voice in her head whispered.
She stopped.
She thought.
She stepped into her room, looked at the picture sitting on her desk. She had changed, Naruto had changed, Sasuke (and this time it didn't hurt to think his name) had changed the most of all. Hell, the world could change, but that picture on her desk would never change. Nothing would change the past. That was just the Way Things Were.
It would be worth it, worth it, worth it, she whispered back to that voice in her head.
And this time it shut up.
Oh, and I don't know
I don't know what he's after
But he's so beautiful
Such a beautiful disaster
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Would it be beautiful?
Or just a beautiful disaster?
–X –
I worked re-al-ly hard on this.
Lyrics are from Kelly Clarkson's Beautiful Disaster and Leona Lewis's My Hands.
Reviews are adored.