So, I wanted to do an Asuma/Kurenai fic, and this whole thing is spur of the moment, so… Don't be mad if it's never updated and refer back to my profile for information concerning the update process of this fic.
Disclaimer:
Don't own it. v.v
A soft sigh escaped the dark-haired woman as she looked out her balcony and onto the streets below. They were bustling, even though it had only just turned seven AM. She raked one hand through her raven locks, red eyes scanning around as she searched. She knew he wasn't there. He hadn't been there for months. But, that wasn't stopping her.
Nothing would stop Yûhi Kurenai. She was determined. Asuma might have fallen to the Akatsuki member, but the Jonin refused to believe he was dead. Asuma was too smart for that. He wouldn't allow himself to die, leaving her alone and heartbroken. Shikamaru claimed to have seen it, but she just couldn't believe it. Seeing was believing, right?
Kurenai turned slamming the balcony door closed as though it were the cause of all of her problems. In truth, she was just frustrated that she couldn't keep herself calm enough to logic her way through this. Asuma wasn't dead; she believed it as strongly as she believed that Shikamaru was a Nara, or Kiba an Inuzuka. He had to come back.
He promised.
The Sakura Festival. It was a time of celebration in Konoha, a time where the citizens – shinobi and civilians alike – got together and celebrated new life, lost loves, and forgotten pasts. On this particular Festival, a raven-haired woman searched for a dark-haired man. He hadn't forgotten, had he?! He swore up and down he was going to be there. Asuma hadn't lied to her before.
"Eh? Kure-chan? Were you looking for me?"
The deep voice caused her to spin around so fast, she nearly knocked three different people over as she saw him standing there, smiling, one dark eyebrow raised. She laughed and ran towards him, jumping onto him when she got within range. He laughed and caught her, his arms closing around the red obi circling her slender torso.
"Kure-chan, you look beautiful."
His words caused her to blush and look down at her kimono. It was a soft pink color, the intricate branches reaching out toward the departing sakura blossoms. It was reserved especially for this occasion. She wore it every single Sakura Festival, only alternating the color of the obi. Her hair was up in the same intricate pattern that geisha wore their hair in, revealing the pale skin of the back of her neck. Kurenai gave him a smile and took his hand in hers.
"You're very handsome tonight, Asuma-kun."
Asuma seemed pleasantly surprised at her compliment, and brushed one hand absently over the dark gray hakama. He muttered something that sounded like a bashful, 'thank you', before he tugged on the lighter gray gi. Kurenai laughed softly as they made their way to the sakura tree where they had shared their first kiss.
"I almost thought you had forgotten about me, Asuma-kun," Kurenai teased. Asuma caught the teasing note and smiled at her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her close.
"I'm yours, Kure-chan. I will always be with you."
After that, Kurenai had never doubted him. She had only been slightly doubtful at first, but no one can stop love. Another sigh of frustration and another hand through her hair drove Kurenai to get some coffee. Usually, she wouldn't, but she wanted it. Nothing was calming her nerves. She thought dressing in his shirt – still smelling like a heart-wrenching combination of him and his cigarette smoke – would calm her down just a little bit, but it wasn't. She couldn't take it. She wanted him to be there, to hold him in her arms.
But she couldn't do that, could she? A lone tear ran down her face as she held the coffee cup in her hands, trying to pull its warmth into her body. She couldn't hold him in her arms, listen to his laugh of amusement, watch the way his eyes darkened when she kissed him. Because he was gone.
She couldn't do anything but stand there by her coffee pot, and allow the tears to fall down her face freely, unchecked, just like the wild emotions roiling around inside her. She forgot about the coffee cup, forgot about her duties, forgot about everything but the grief inside her. She lifted her hands, dropping the coffee on the floor as she held her head and fell to the ground, knees meeting slick tile.
The sun glared down at him and he closed one eye, raising his hand to create a shade over his eyes as he looked up. The sky was clear of clouds, just a bright and happy blue peeking through. It had taken time, a lot of time, and even more patience to bring him where he was now. He changed physically, he was sure. Not only was he completely filthy, but his hair had grown, hanging down to past his waist now. He felt more battle hardened, like he had just spent months doing nothing but fighting and no showering. In a way, he had. After all, he had spent months with a huge injury trying to get back to her.
And it had paid off.
He was finally here; finally standing in the shadow of the great village he had once called his. Thoughts raced through his head. Will they accept me back? Will I get to keep my team? Are my team members still alive?
One thought kept reverberating back to him, almost as though he was a magnet.
Will she accept me back?
It was a sad thing to think about instead of all the positive things that could be waiting for him, but he had already decided that he would rather die again than leave her forever. If she didn't accept him back… He'd probably bury himself in work, but his heart would no longer be in it. There was only so much you could do when you were heartbroken, after all.
The guards at the gate looked at him, but seemed to recognize him. He knew this by their surprised faces, the way they stared at him. He raised one hand in greeting, and they both bowed their heads to him. A shinobi rising from the dead was a rare occurrence, after all.
His steps were carefully measured, keeping a leisurely pace when he wanted to use all his chakra running as fast as he possibly could to reach her. She was the only thing that had kept him alive for those months: the memory of her soft hair falling through his calloused hands, the look in her eyes, the feeling of her against him. He needed that, but most of all, he needed to feel her to make sure she was okay. It was his first goal. He'd worry about everything else later.
As the familiar house came into view, he felt his heart stop. He was so close, about to face all his fears. He wondered if she'd accept him, how badly he had hurt her with the things he couldn't help.
He didn't feel or see the people around him as he walked on, ignoring the whispers, not hearing the people who tried to stop him by calling his name. His heart pounded loudly in his ears, and he was sure that it would give him away. One hand took hold of the railing of the staircase and he slowly began his ascent, comparing the sensation in his hazy mind to climbing a staircase to heaven. She was his heaven, and she was waiting for him, or so he hoped. As he reached the door, he stood there, his breath coming in shallow gasps as his fear escalated. But, his body had other plans. His body needed her too.
One hand came up and rapped against the door.
He stood staring at it, waiting for some sign that he was supposed to be there. After a moment, he heard nothing and his face dropped, his heart stopped. Of course she would move on. He had been gone for so long… It wasn't fair of him to expect her to wait for him. He lifted the bag on his shoulder and turned, wondering if someone else could let him live with them when he heard the creak of the door opening. He turned to face his fate.
Her head was stuck out the crack in the door, and he stood there on the threshold, waiting. Her eyes widened and the door fell open as she stood up straighter, her red eyes taking him in, looking at him as though she had never seen him before. It killed him inside to see the rings around her eyes from lack of sleep and the tears she had shed for him, but he looked at her too. She wore his shirt and his eyes traced her body. His eyes shot back to her face whenever he saw her feet move forward.
The smack rang out in the empty corridor. His head had turned from the impact of her hand meeting his cheek. He didn't move, eyes wide in surprise. He only moved after he heard her choked sob, and she fell into his arms, sobs tearing through her body. He held her close, one hand coming up to brush her raven hair.
"Never again, Kurenai," he promised, his voice gruff with emotion. She nuzzled his chest as she continued to cry and managed a nod before looking up at him, crimson eyes luminous with the force of her tears.
"Never again, Asuma."
1,581 words of pure AsumaKurenai angsty romance! Yeah! So… I don't know if this will be a one shot or if I'll actually continue it with a plot. It all depends on whether or not I think up a plot. If you think I should continue with one, feel free to offer one. Maybe it'll work. (Shrug) We'll find out.
-G.o.G.