Running. In her dreams she was always running. Chasing a light that was ever fleeting. The road was so dark. A pitch black nothingness. Much like her own heart. There were no stars to dot the night sky, no sun to warm the chill. Yet, it wasn't the bitter cold, nor was it the endless running towards a hopeless destination that made this dream so painful. Because at the end, when she had finally reached the light, a warm hand would stroke her hair. Softly, gently, the way a mother would. Was this what it felt like? Was this love? The touch was so tender it made her want to cry. But the feeling never lasted. The dream would disappear and she would wake up. After all, love was a fantasy. The prospect of anyone in this world willing to embrace her was impossible. So she would bury that dream in the deepest corner of her heart. Wipe it from her memory so it wouldn't hinder her. And she would put on her strongest face. The world was cruel. That was a fact. Thus, to bear any weakness was suicide. Knowing that, how could she possibly allow a crack in her façade? Leave an opening for someone to intrude. For someone to get hurt. After all, she was worthless. Her existence was unneeded. And she would never allow someone entry into her world. Besides, it was for the better, wasn't? That only she suffered.
Soon after she woke up, she heard a knock on her door. Twisting the worn, gold plating, the first thing she saw was strikingly silver hair that seemed to defy gravity. She knew that it could only be one person. Him.
"Sakura." He whispered her name tenderly, softly as if her were speaking with a child.
"Kakashi." "It has certainly been a while, hasn't it? Why don't you come in? Join me for a smoke."
He was never one to reject a cigarette. So he crossed the room that was shrouded in darkness. Sakura turned on the single lamp that she had, and he was finally able to see her. She was still stunningly beautiful. Long, silky strands of rosette hair were pulled into a loose braid that was placed over one shoulder. Her slim, almost emaciated figure the epitome of perfection in its frailty. Her pale, snow like complexion as translucent as ever. The delicate, yet sharp planes of her face seemed ethereal in their beauty and the dark circles caused from sleepless nights only added to her vampire like allure. Beautiful was not enough to describe Sakura. Her unusual hair color, the tall statuesque body that screamed foreign blood. Her beauty was the kind that made people stop to stare on the streets. But it was her eyes, the color of celadon, that made it impossible to look away. They were arctic chips of ice. Never had he seen such sorrowful depths, not even the pain reflected in his own eyes could compete with the chill of hers. Her eyes revealed nothing. They were empty and foggy to the point where anyone who didn't know her would assume that she was blind. And yet, at the same time, they were impossibly lovely. When he met her gaze, he found himself unable to look away. It was like a repeat of their first meeting in high school. When he saw her standing in the pouring rain. It was then, that he had realized her loneliness was impenetrable. The suffering she held in her heart could not be healed. And yet, he fell in love anyway. Knowing his love was doomed from the start, he could not help but fall for that broken, beautiful girl standing unmoving in the pouring rain. The sky was shedding tears for her, and he unknowingly, also started crying for the nameless girl. Later on, her learned her name was Sakura. Sakura Haruno. It was a name he would treasure for the rest of his life.