All I ever wanted to do was fly.
I wanted to fly. I wanted to fly so I could be with him, so I could stay by his side. If I could fly, then maybe he would accept me.
I had never given up on him, and I never would, but I had accepted a future without him. I had accepted the fact that in order to live my life at all, to continue to become stronger, I needed to forget him.
It was easier said than done.
He was everywhere. Every place I would pass, I could name it with a memory with him. Every person I saw, it just reminded me of memories with him alongside Konoha's golden group. But the place I saw him the most was my own mind, and that was the place where he was hardest to get rid of.
I still scolded myself for letting him go; for not being strong enough to make him stay, or to be useful enough for him to take with me. But I would be strong enough. I had vowed that to myself, and I owed it to him. I would learn to fly, so I could fly with him.
The hawk was a predator, and it was always alone. Sasuke was the Hawk. I would not be the prey. I would contradict him, and make him take me with him. I would become a great predator, even if it meant giving up everything I loved for it. He was all that mattered. He was all I had left.
So, I began to train myself to fly. Soon enough, I believed I could fly, so I went after Sasuke.
This was the biggest mistake of my life. None of my training made any difference, because no matter how much progress I made, he seemed to at least double it. Once again, I needed to be saved. I was a weakling, a baby bird still learning how to fly and needing its mother to watch them every step of the way. When would I be strong enough? When would I learn to fly? I needed to fly. I needed to be with him. I needed to find him.
Somehow, whenever I found him, he would push me away, and leave me or my comrades bruised and battered. The hawk put up one hell of a fight, but so would I. Somehow, I knew I was making progress. Every time we fought, his blows would seem to be aiming less towards being fatal.
So, on this, I kept fighting him. Over and over, despite all the advice everyone gave me to just give up. That was impossible, I just couldn't give up on him, and I couldn't let him go. Not when I knew he was so close.
One more fight, one more fight. This became my only thought, my rope to sanity.
He became my only thought. Yet, I had a feeling it was more a rope to insanity.
I only had one reason left. Him. Him, him, always him. Everything I did, it was always for him. For us. For the possibility of seeing him again, reaching him in the darkness, flying with him in the sky. I only wanted him, and thoughts of him consumed my mind, and ate me from the inside out. I knew it wasn't healthy, but I craved the stare of those onyx eyes more than anything else. I craved the sound of his smooth voice. I craved him, I needed him, more than food and air and water, and I began to truly believe I couldn't live without him.
I would fly. Even if it killed me.
Darkness was my favourite thing. It reminded me of him. Everything became black, and I lived in an almost nocturnal world. People became even more concerned for me, but I couldn't sense them anymore. I couldn't feel anything, not sympathy or worry for them, not guilt for making them worry. He was my only thought, my obsession.
I found him again. This would be the last time. He became injured, but this did not concern him. Instead, he licked his wound, revelling in the taste of his own blood. It disgusted me. I realised what I had became, what he had made me. He had done this, knowing it was the only way to make me so that we could fly together. I had become a predator, one who did not care about the feelings of its prey. I had injured those I loved through the transformation of myself.
I killed him.
The darkness receded, but it always stayed in one corner of my mind. I disgusted it. I came to love the sun, and I found that I was developing a fear of the darkness. This was mostly because whenever I closed my eyes, nightmares and images would haunt me to no end. I lived now for all of my friends, all the people I loved.
No one could see the pain that followed me wherever I went, the memories that struck me like knives whenever I looked at something.
Except one person.
He was someone I had ignored all my life, his midnight black hair made disgusting in my mind because of how he styled it. He seemed old only because he copied an older person exactly.
"Sakura-san?" I looked up at his black eyes that matched the shade of his hair, and usually shone with a childish amusement only he understood. Today, however, they only showed concern and worry. "Is something wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, Lee-san." I assured him, returning to staring at my untouched coffee.
He sat down next to me, despite me words. He watched me so closely all the time, I knew he could read me like a book. "Sakura-san, it's Sasuke-san, isn't it?"
Somehow, these simple words sent my emotions into a spiral, and I grasped Lee's shirt as I choked out sobs. He gingerly placed his arms around me, as though I was fragile and he would break me. I guess in a way, he was right.
"It's alright, Sakura-san, you're the strongest kunoichi I know, you'll make it through."
"You really- sniffle -think so?" I asked hopefully. My voice was pitiful.
"I know it. We'll all help you through it."
I tightened my grip on his shirt. "No, no one can see me like this."
He held me slightly tighter, slightly closer, into his comforting warmth. "Then just me, you can always count on me. I'll help you through."
I sniffled. "Thank you, Lee-san."
I never did fly. But instead, I learned to run. I learned to run faster and farther then I ever could have flying.
(Note: This is kind of going along Kishimoto's thign of Sasuke being a hawk, and then also because Lee is so good at Taijutsu you could put him for running. So in short: flying = Sasuke, running= Lee, hope I didn't confuse you too bad!)
