Ehh…I'm in Sweden as of writing this. The urge struck me, and I wanted to try my hand at some new elements of style. Consider it a…journal entry of sorts. Tell me what you think, aye?

A bR0kEdowN SmiLe

If I had to choose a silly metaphor out of a bag, I suppose it would probably be "railroad track". A seamless line of events marked invisibly (or rather unnoticeably) by equidistant emotional planks, stepping stones for a coal-drunk train marching towards that inevitable goal of nothingness…inevitable…right? Life is so much easier when you chalk it up to destiny, you know? Responsibility is a burden I've all too graciously accepted, except in regards…to him; It could be said this whole illusion is just an extension of that. Then again, how was I to know, at least back then, that there isn't such a thing as a smile that doesn't quite reach the eyes?

The morning was overcast, a foreboding omen precociously ignored by the budding teenager hopelessly in love with a traitor. A gray light spilled from the clouds like cracked ceramics leaking water, and emerald leaves on amber trees drooped low under the heavy dewdrops they shed in that strange all-knowingness mother nature seems to let slip, from time to time. I don't remember waking up, or even any of the events that lead up to his leaving, except for that brief flash of clarity in which he stopped smiling for the first time.

It was the early afternoon, and the clouds had dissipated in the sun, the light stripping us bare until there were but two emotions left, connecting us in an arc of distance between the last teammates and the rest of the village…the world. It was a titanic clash, really, and it was natural that I won out. He always did let me win, so he smiled one final time. The last time I had seen the spark in his eyes was as he promised me, with his heart of hearts, to bring back the traitor. But the worst part of all…the part that eats at my conscience…is that I thanked him.

The promise of a lifetime, he said.

The promise to bring him back, he said.

I wonder what would have happened had I heard what he really said, that he'd bring Sasuke back...for me.

I can't say I was surprised when he came back empty handed, or when he left again to train with the toad sannin. There were no smiles, naturally, but faceless grins and empty eyes that came with the total resignation of never receiving what was so desperately given. What I did realize, though, was that regardless of how I felt romantically about anyone at the time, it wasn't my place…anyone's place…to rob the world of Naruto's smile.

Naturally, when he returned, he was all teeth and no light. Sasuke had become such an integral part of our very beings…it was almost pathetic. How one person could dominate us without even being there should have astounded us into clarity, but I made sure to weigh us down as much as possible. Forgetting Sasuke would be abandoning the first 12 years of my life.

The train of events continued, regardless of how much I believed Naruto's clambering of there being no destiny, because I just couldn't drag myself away from those childhood fantasies. When I finally did begin to grow up…to mature… I found myself inexorably drawn to his childlike antics. When I was just a young girl, my only ambition was to grow up, marry a handsome man, and speed along my life. Youth is wasted on the young... Naruto was a childhood doll that only dragged me further back, and being the stubborn child, I refused to think of him as anything but a hindrance.

But…

I'm not sure how it happened. We were on a routine B-class mission, some sort of delivery to Suna. The air was crisp and the dried leaves paved a colourful path through the woods, with a rainbow haloing across the northern sky jaded by blood red clouds in the morning sunrise. Looking back, that should have been our first clue it'd be only a matter of time until we saw our former comrade. What shocked me the most wasn't the sight of his limp body, his glazed eyes staring at nothing, but Naruto's simple reaction. He didn't speak, or even cry…unperturbed, he simply closed the shinobi's eyes…one last time.

How strange.

I grabbed his wrist, confusion etched in his face and manner, dragging him into the forest with as little idea as to what I was doing as he had. Pushing him against a tree, boring a hole into his eyes with my own, trying to see what was going on inside his head that I had been so blind to before. Realizing there was only one way to get a closer look at his soul…

I kissed him.

And the best part about all of it, the trials, tribulations, efforts in our lives?

He forgave me.

--Haruno Sakura

Cheers,

FallArbor