Author's Note: Hello, everyone! This piece was written when I was sick with the flu, so I'm not entirely sure how well written it is, but since I took the time to write it I might as well post it up here on FanFiction for someone to enjoy. With all due respect, I leave it at that and let you all judge my work. Enjoy everyone!
Disclaimer: It wouldn't be very wise to place such an awesome show in my hands, for that it'd all be ruined horribly. I don't own "Naruto", and I am quite glad because there'd be no manga for all you manga fans... strictly because I am horrible at drawing. Plus, I've somewhat made up my own bloodline in my head, and it isn't very cool...
He Loves Her, He Loves Her Not
He watches her pick the flowers off the dandelion one by one, mumbling the same phrases. "He loves me, he loves me not..."
He watches her closely as she sits on her knees in the clear meadow filled with nothing but dandelions. His good eye follows the movements of her hand - up, down, left, right. It's a repeating process in which she won't break, just as the process of life and death. She'd been quiet for the past few days, ever since he'd told her that he'd always protect her because of Obito's wish.
The image of her eyes down-casting fills his mind and he frowns. Had he made her feel weak? Was she moody? What had caused her mood to suddenly change? She never even told him what she wanted to confess to him that day.
Her hand gingerly breaks a dandelion, and she holds it in front of her face, frozen in spot almost. It's after a few seconds that she gently plucks a single petal, her eyes locked on it floating in the air. When it lands on the ground, he hears her whisper words as she continues the same process over and over again until there are no more petals for her to pick and she's gone through dozens of flowers.
"He loves me," She'd say once before plucking another petal and saying, "He loves me not."
The last petal lands on the ground, not moving any longer, as she stares at it blankly. It is then, when a single tears slides down her cheek, that she stands back onto her feet and murmurs one last phrase before she stands and flees back into the village, never noticing his presence. He knew then that he should've followed after her, told her wrong, but he made another mistake and just pushed it aside like everything else she'd told him.
"He loves me not."
It's a phrase filled with lies, but because he didn't chase after her like he should've, she left believing those words.
Author's Note: Well, there you go! I'm thinking of making a sequel to this, but I'm not sure yet. If anyone would like to request it, I encourage you to let me know in a private message or through a review, that way I'd know that someone out there wants me to. Other than that, thank you all for reading.