Teardrops
A Naruto Ficlet by TKCat
Summary: Naruto's POV. She'd better hold him close. She'd better know how lucky she is. She'd better love him more than everything else. She'd better... because I can't do any of those things... (One-sided) SasuNaru
Rating: K+
Pairing: (One-sided) SasuNaru
Genre: General, Romance, Hurt/Comfort
Warnings: Shoen-Ai (Boy Love)
Beta'ed by: [Un-Beta'ed]
Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Naruto
A/N: A one-shot for the heck of it that ended up being a lot of nonsense… You see some plot bunnies have developed new ways of biting writers and infect them with their plot-y evilness… This one used a hang glider and literally smacked me in the face. And then I realized it wasn't even a plot bunny, but something even more evil… a SAD plot bunny…!! So, uh, enjoy.
-Teardrops-
It hurts.
It hurts so much. It feels like my heart is being ripped out of my chest, thrown on the ground and trampled on before pushed back inside to see how long I'll survive with such a torn heart. I feel water swelling up in my eyes. I want to cry now, but I don't. I won't. I can't; in front of him, I can't show how weak I'm feeling. Really, most people wouldn't understand why I'm hurting. Actually, I don't understand it myself. I just know one thing; something's shattering inside me.
And it hurts.
In reality, I have come to a few conclusions; why it hurts, I mean. At first, I just thought I was ill. Maybe a bit tired from school and such. Of course I would mistake it for that, for at first, it was just a date. She came up to us, just like every other day, greeting us both before turning to him, asking if he wanted to come with her to some sort of event. I had rolled my eyes, sighing: he always said no, but she never got the hint. I was patient, though; waiting for him to reject her like usual before heading to class – as usual. But this day wasn't any "as usual".
He said "Yes".
Maybe not directly; more like an "Alright" or "Yeah, sure", but it all has the same meaning. He'd said "Yes". It didn't hurt back then; I was just shocked. I am sure she was too, for she stood gaping at him like he was some kind of alien. It annoyed me, but I couldn't say anything on it: my own expression wasn't much unlike hers because, really, it was unexpected. He'd never shown any interest in her before, but just then...
Saturday came fast, and the "date" would take place. I wasn't there, but he had promised me he'd meet up with me at the park with the others when he was done.
He never showed up.
I called him, but gained no answer as he didn't pick up his phone. I went to his house the day after; his mother answered the door, smiling sweetly at me. I greeted her and asked if he was home. "He's upstairs," she'd replied.
Walking into his room, I found him sitting on his bed, his laptop in his lap. He looked up, asking me why I was here. No greeting, but I wasn't expecting one either. I brushed of his question, asking him where he was the other day and why he didn't meet us as planned. A look of realization crossed his face, and he quickly answered that he'd forgotten while he was out with her.
That was the first time it stung.
As I said, I had mistaken it for stress. Maybe it's because I couldn't reach him on his phone the day before. Why that would upset me wasn't clear to me then. Perhaps I just wanted to know I could contact him whenever I wanted as long as I had my phone. As I was thinking of it, I asked him why. He'd lost his phone in the river when she was about to fall, and he'd caught her.
It stung again.
By then I really thought I was getting sick, having that constant arching in my chest. Excusing myself, saying that I wasn't feeling quite well, I left his room. He followed me down and told me to get well soon before closing the door after me. The arching became noticeable smaller, for some reason. I was glad, thinking it would get better the next day. However, I was wrong.
I didn't see him at the buss, neither at our normal meeting place. Again, nothing went "as usual". What certainly wasn't usual was that when I entered school, and the first thing to greet me was the sight of him. Him and her: as in the two of them together… holding hands. Like boyfriend and girlfriend.
She had been the one to spot me, flipping her pink hair as she greeted me cheerfully, waving me over to them. It was only then he turned to me, and that usual ever content smirk was erased, as it had never excised, and was instead replaced by a small but content smile. He never smiled for anyone. Not his family, not his friends, never his fans, and not even I, his best friend, had ever had the honour to grace a smile to his face. So how come… how could it be… how come she was able to?
As soon as he spotted me, though, the smile disappeared and replaced by a frown – another normal trademark expression of his. I ignored the next sting in my chests, that I by now figured wasn't because I was ill. I had never caught any illness before, so why now? Perhaps this was jealousy. Yes, that had been the great solution – I was jealous that he had found someone special to him while I had not. I had never in my life felt jealous of anyone, so I told myself it was that it was.
Neither had I ever felt heart-break. So what were the chances that I'd mix the two of them?
Obviously, they were there.
But I didn't notice, not before weeks after.
We continued to hang out, just as usual, though we had w new addition to the gang: she. She was there now, every day, every wake hour I saw him she was there, also. I thought of her as an annoyance: a huge, frilly, pink annoyance that had barged into my life – our lives. And my jealousy grew, grew so much... I didn't really get it, even then, so I decided that I'd have to get a girlfriend for myself. And I did get one: a beautiful one. Her name, I can't remember anymore... But she told me something: something important.
"It's all about him, isn't it?"
It's all about him. It has always been all about him. No matter what I do, it's about him... him, him, and him...
And I had to get a girl to tell me so.
This girlfriend I had, whom I can't remember the name of, also became a part of the group. And that was partly the plan. She hung around me, and that girl hung around him, and we'd be equal again. But we never were, we never became...I never felt like I was his equal anymore. So I worked harder, craved more attention from him, but in the end all I ended up was a girl telling me how stupid I was.
"It's all about him, isn't it? And yet you waste your time on me?"
And yet I wasted time on her, trying to prove myself when acknowledgement wasn't even what I was looking for.
"Why don't you just go for it? There's no way he'd stop you."
Stop me: no. Reject me: certainly.
I never did go for it, but at least I broke it off with that girlfriend... whose name I can't remember.
But at least I found out what I really felt...
This jealousy wasn't of him. This envy, it wasn't for him, but for her... she who was able to be there with him, who was able to tell him how she felt, able to touch him, able to see his everything... his smile. All because she'd dared...and I hadn't. She was courageous enough to dare, and I was cowardly enough not to. So I continued watching as they grew closer, and we grew further apart. They got more intimate. We got more careful and closed up. They became lovers... and we became as if strangers.
That's when I realized by heartbreak.
She'd stolen him from right under my nose, and now I was breaking, drowning, without my pillar of support...
I remember crying once, though all alone. Tears are the major weakness, he used to say. I believed those words, I still do.
My courage grew, though.
I confronted her, once. I wanted to tell her something, and she listened...but in the end, I couldn't tell her what I wanted to. Instead I told her they had my support... for what, I'm not sure, but she's smiled and hugged me. Hugged me, and leapt off to find her loved one...
I wanted to scratch my skin off.
I'd wanted to tell her she'd better hold him close. She'd better know how lucky she is. She'd better love him more than everything else. She'd better... because I can't do any of those things. She'd better do it, just so I know he won't ever regret anything... just so I know he won't feel the regret I do now...
I'm not sure how I ended up in this situation. Perhaps I was a little tipsy, gone into some other dimension, but I ended up here... I confessed. And was at the verge of crying...for he became silent. He didn't reply, just kept staring at me as if I was out of this world. Somehow, I remembered someone telling me how no one deserves my tears... and those who do would never make me cry.
I don't really know what happened, because for one moment I could swear I felt his lips press against mine... the next I woke up lying in my bed. But I knew it had happened. I knew it, so darn well... he returned those feelings, and so much more... and it hurt.
So this day I actually told her what I'd wanted to say... that she'd better hold him, she'd better love him, know she's lucky to have him... because I can't do any of those things.
I didn't love him anymore.
Not one bit...
End
A/N: Reviews are not required. After all, this is just some crap I pulled together out of nothing...