Loneliness, a naruto fanfic

Something I produced over a week during my (hard-to-find) spare time. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

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Oneshot.

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Loneliness.

It hurts.

Sakura tapped her fingers on the edges of the kitchen table and hummed softly to herself. Resting her head on her left knuckle, she kept a strict watch on the kettle from where she sat. It would not do to have a scorched kitchen greet her husband when he returned home from his mission.

Absentmindedly, her hands dropped from the table and onto her stomach, rubbing the swollen abdomen with loving care. Being well into the ninth month of her pregnancy, she often woke up in the middle of the night trembling with anticipation and a tinge of fear, afraid that she would have to go through labour alone.

Her hand landed on her lap, the tips of her fingers cradling the bottom of her stomach. Sakura stifled a small sob. She missed her husband so much.

Sorrowfully, she turned her head and looked out of the window. Naruto had been gone for almost six months now, sent on a mission to guard Wave Country's newly elected leader. He had protested (rather loudly) in front of the entire council, claiming that he preferred to stay with his wife, but the council beat him down and coerced him into accepting the mission.

Naruto was livid when he returned home that night. Sakura still remembered how his sapphire-blue eyes shone with fury, his whisker marks seemingly more feral under the faint trickles of moonlight she used to see him by. It was with a great deal of comforting and soothing that she had managed to calm him down somewhat.

I'll be all right, she had crooned as she ran her hand through Naruto's silky blonde locks. The baby and I will be fine.

He snarled that she would be lonely without him.

She denied. There's still Ino, she said. And Hinata, Tenten, Chouji and Shikamaru…though I wouldn't trust that lazy-ass to babysit our child.

She took his hand and placed it on her slightly swollen stomach after she lifted her blouse, guiding it to draw circles on the smooth, round surface. The glint of madness in Naruto's eyes started to fade and he managed a small smile. Sakura smiled as well, though on the inside, she was breaking into tiny, tiny pieces.

Her husband left the next day, promising that he would be back as soon as things calmed down in Wave Country. She put on a big smile as she waved at him even though tears streaked down her face, hugging herself after he was out of sight, savouring the last of the warmth Naruto had imparted on her skin.

Every day for three months, she went to wait at the gates without fail, come rain or shine. Her pale emerald eyes would look around for any sign of returning shinobi, always alert for the sight of a certain blonde jinchuuriki.

Many ninja passed through the gates every day, each of them successfully tearing away small shreds of her desperate hope that her husband would come home.

Then, during her sixth month of pregnancy, Tsunade put her foot down firmly on Sakura's obstinacy to wait at the gates from mid-afternoon until sunset. It is not healthy for the child, the elder woman insisted, placing a caring hand on the side of Sakura's stomach and rubbing it gently.

Sakura trembled, both from her overwhelming need to cry and the need to thrash this woman who dared to object against her being a dutiful wife. I am merely waiting for my husband, she had screeched at Tsunade while she blinked away her angry tears. The Hokage patted her back, murmuring that she understood her loneliness.

Sakura conceded and calmed down, biting her lower lip so that the only noises that escaped her were some hiccups and the occasional strangled sob.

Deep down, her heart broke even more.

Ever since then, her girlfriends came over to visit her often, cheerily knocking on the door and thrusting gifts into her face as soon as she opened the door to her home. Sometimes their boyfriends came along.

Sakura would smile and take on the role of the gracious hostess, preparing tidbits and laughing along with the rest whenever they cracked jokes, but inwardly she cried, wishing that her husband could be by her side too. More than once she wondered why it could not have been other ninja who went on that mission – why her husband? Why not Shikamaru, or Neji, or even Chouji?

Looking at her friends' happy faces, she knew that she shouldn't wish such bad things for them. They would be as unhappy as she was if either of their partners was called away for months at a time.

Still, she could not help but nurture a secret, selfish wish that someone could have gone in Naruto's stead, so that her beloved husband could be by her side; her pillar of support during her difficult moments, the first to experience the joys of feeling her unborn child kicking inside her under his fingers.

Instead, it was Tsunade who had that privilege (besides Sakura herself, of course), and sometimes an enraptured Ino would place an ear on Sakura's abdomen and listen to the foetus kick in its womb, unable to understand why Sakura was so unwilling to let anyone share those moments between her baby and herself.

Because, Sakura had said in barely a whisper, her eyes shining with misery, my husband has yet to share it.

Then she had cried into Ino's arms, leaning her head against her friend's shoulder, hoping to find the comfort Naruto's shoulder would always provide. But Ino's slim shoulders were less sturdy, and the hesitant way she ran her hand through Sakura's pink locks were nothing like Naruto's.

Sakura was on the verge of tears when the kettle gave a shrill shriek, steam rushing out of its silver spout. Shaking herself out of her reminiscence, Sakura grunted as she stood up, using her skinny arms as leverage. Her baby boy was getting heavy.

Ambling painfully to the kettle, she turned off the gas and used a piece of rag to pick the kettle off the stove, careful not to upset anything and cause a mess. It would be hard to clean up with her protruding stomach brushing against the cold marble floor.

Carefully, she poured some of the boiling water into a porcelain mug. Brown powder swirled in a dark cloud at the mug's base. Sakura looked up at the dying sun in the horizon. Already the faintest signs of the moon were visible in the sky, a light blue strip against a sea of clashing red, yellow and purple.

Suddenly Sakura hissed and pulled her hand away from the mug she was steadying, glaring at the hot water that dripped from her appendage. Her hand throbbed while she placed the kettle in the sink, careful not to spill any more water onto herself.

Sighing a little as she inspected her slightly swollen left hand, Sakura lifted her uninjured hand and activated her chakra, letting her right hand hover over her left as green healing chakra seeped out. The swelling on her left hand receded and the throbbing slowed, fading away as her chakra took effect.

Sakura shook her head at her carelessness then went back to her mug of Milo. Dumping a small amount of sugar and condensed milk into it, she began to stir her drink with a spoon, thinking of Naruto.

How is he now? she thought dreamily. Would he be back soon?

An image of Naruto came to her, unbidden, from the depths of her memory. He had his idiotic grin on, his hitai-ate donned proudly on his forehead. His shock of hair fell over the metal plate, spilling out of the blue cloth that supported the insignia of Konohagakure.

Sakura smiled with her eyes half-closed, still immersed in her memories. Ah, Naruto….

Noticing a pool of moisture under her feet, Sakura frowned and placed a hand on her belly, only to find that the area between her thighs were damp. The pink-haired woman paled. Oh no, please, not now….

Sadly, Kami-sama refused to heed her plea.

A sharp pain shot up her spine. Sakura cried out, gripping the table as she trembled from the intense pain in her abdomen. Her mug of Milo fell to the floor with a resounding crash. Desperate tears leaked out of the corner of her emerald eyes as gritted her teeth, willing herself to endure the onslaught of pain.

Breathing heavily, Sakura forced herself to stand, her arms shaking with the effort. Drops of sweat beaded her pale face. She had to get to the door, she had to. She must.

Another wave of pain erupted from her stomach and she cried out, her knuckles white as she gripped the wooden table. With a loud crack, a chunk of the table came away in her fist.

Sakura sobbed when she felt warm liquid run down her hand. Trembling, she placed her free hand over the injured one, hoping to heal it and perhaps utilise her chakra to stall the birthing of her son until help came. Her hand shook violently, her sight was crippled by a wave of pain, and she damned could not focus on her chakra.

"Na…ruto…" she whimpered, lying down on the floor, her bloodied hands cradling her stomach. Naruto, I lied. I can't do this alone.

Help me.

"Na-ru-to," she cried weakly. She curled into a fetal position, hugging her bloated belly, too panicked to recall any of her lessons on childbirth. Her stomach throbbed in reply, periodically sending her reminders of the oncoming birth. Sakura was too weak to do anything but cry out in agony.

Despite her assuring Naruto that she and the baby would be fine, Sakura was never convinced about it herself, especially not now when she was nothing more than a pathetic lump on the floor convulsing in pain, her cries for help unheard.

And worst of all, she was suffering it alone.

..;'lll';..

I'll let you readers imagine the rest yourself. Will Naruto or someone else help her? Will she…? Tell me your guesses on this story's ending; I'd like to read them.

Read and review, please!