Wildfires
It should have been romantic and youthful; but this was real life, not a story, and Lee found himself only heartbroken. -Supplement for Belletrist Word Salad's "Wicked Game." Gift-fic. Pilot based.
It should have been romantic: a couple in love, but forbidden from each other, running away from their possessive, abusive spouses to elope and start life anew, far away. In the stories, it was always romantic, the brave, odds-defying passion of young love.
But this was real life, not a story, and Lee found that it wasn't youthful at all, nor romantic, at least not in the conventional way.
He shouted at the Houshukage in desperate defiance: Naruto-kun wouldn't leave without a word goodbye; he'd left before, why should his departure now be any different? And Sakura-san, brave, beautiful, strong Sakura-san, would never do that either, not in a million years! Not even for a top-secret mission. She would have spent a day visiting her friends, silently saying goodbye in that soft way of hers, so as not to cause anyone tears.
Lee couldn't use chakra, but that didn't mean that he didn't have his own ways of sensing when things were off. Gut instinct, he called it. What Tsunade claimed just couldn't be because Naruto and Sakura weren't like that; at least not the Naruto and Sakura Lee knew. It was obvious enough that their leaving had some romantic tryst of one kind or another involved, because Sasuke and Sai weren't the types to sit around and sob, either. Why weren't the two dark males chasing after their lighter-haired teammates like Naruto had done so long ago when Sasuke defected? Granted, Naruto and Sakura had hardly defected, if what his honorable Houshukage claimed was true, but still...
Had Naruto's and Sakura's youthful flames burned completely out of control? Youth was like any flame: hot and empowering, but it was wild and when not properly controlled it could take on a life of its own and burn uncontrollably, burning those things a person held most precious. Like a forest fire: good for clearing out the year's decaying shrubbery to make way for new growth, but as soon as you let that control slip—poof!—an entire forest could be turned into charcoal, trees and fluffy squirrels and all.
Whatever the reason, they weren't in Mt. Oinari anymore, and Lee's sight blurred with tears as he felt his inner fire flicker and dim. Sakura-san, dear, lovely Sakura-san, whom he adored and loved, gone without so much as a glance his way. Not that she had ever given him a glance, for what was he, a lowly green caterpillar, compared to her hardy, flower-laden boughs? Hardly worth her attentions unless he became a butterfly, not that he ever would, for the best Lee could ever hope to become was a moth.
And though he was drawn to the bright embers of love, it would kill him if he got too close. And now he couldn't even watch it from afar, anymore.
But it was so romantic.
End