Butterflies and Hurricanes
Warning: Contains spoilers for those who watch the anime, and for those who are not recent with the manga, and also, my tiny little 'predictions' or 'theories' throughout, which, admittedly, are probably not all that correct. Also, I am now aware that Sasuke's team name is no longer 'Hebi'. However, this is before the pre-Itachi fight thing, so yes, I will not be changing it.
Inspired by Muse: Butterflies and Hurricanes
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It was terribly fickle that she found solace where no other human being had been in less than a decade. The shrubs were overgrown, and the wood was rotting through; the murals on the walls were faded and cracking in the stone wall, and the garden that probably was magnificent in color and glory so long ago was dead and wilted.
Nothing remained here, save the rotting of a mansion, and dozens of restless and haunting memories. Not even her memories, she reminded herself impatiently, not hers in the slightest. They were only wisps of a family that she had never known, of a legacy that had been ruined by one of their prodigies. Of a father who pushed his son too far, and of a younger brother who felt inferior. She was treading on exceptionally personal ground, with so much history and violence, a history that did not include her in the slightest.
Her legs dangled over the edge of the shingled roof, her arms supporting her lean frame. It wasn't necessarily that she felt at home here, and it wasn't that this place reminded her so much of him… but it was more of a yearning to understand.
She wanted to delve into the mind of Sasuke, to learn the prospective of his murderous, S-rank brother, and no matter how foolish it sounded, to meet his parents. Of course, this was impossible, since they were dead, but she wanted to meet them spiritually, to hear them through the silence.
This was of course, impossible as well, as her thinking was completely inane and child-like, believing in such things anymore. There was no spirits, no remaining music of the dead; at least not here. This place was completely, and utterly silent.
She had been to his old apartment, and it had been the same there. Blank, cold, desolate. Silent. She had accepted long ago, that he'd never be like any other human being, that he'd simply be Sasuke. Unexplainable, unique and hell bent on killing his brother.
She still loved him for it.
Out of everything she loved about him, it was his voice. It was like music to her ears, how he spoke. When he did, it was often an insult, or something that hurt another person, but sometimes, he made the oddest compliments. Through his insults, she saw criticism to improve, to gain strength.
His voice was like a deep alto, that rung through her body with every chord, that made her quake with intensity. His voice was reassuring and grounding. His voice was music, that challenged her, and motivated her to prove her worth.
This place, where there was silence, was a place devoid of any life; it contained no music, not even from the dead.
But she took comfort that somewhere, Sasuke's voice still rung true, and that her music still continued to play; perhaps not for her (if it ever had), but his music still played. Somewhere, walking the planes in search of his brother, his chest tightening in anger, his voice grew stronger.
Someday, she was sure, his music would meet her ears, and this time, she'd be ready to play back. This time, she wouldn't back down, and this time, her voice would make him understand.
Her music would play for him one day, but first, she needed to understand.
She needed to understand his perspective, his hate, his apathy. She needed to understand the lyrics, before she could play the music.
Haruno Sakura loved Uchiha Sasuke, and it was only a matter of time before their music played together, whether it be by her hand or his. His voice would meet her ears, and this time, hers would not be lost on deaf ears.
Haruno Sakura loved Uchiha Sasuke. It was why she sat in a deserted Uchiha compound, night after night, examining his old life, and comparing it with the one she knew before he left. It was why she lay awake at night, thinking on his anger, his rejection of her. It was why she thought on the battle that would ultimately occur between them, if he would be different than she remembered. She didn't want her music to be changed, she loved it too much.
Haruno Sakura loved Uchiha Sasuke. She loved his music, even if it tore her apart inside.
And somewhere deep within her heart, she understood that her own music was changing. More desperate… anxious, and dying. She was dying inside, as though a butterfly caught in the rain.
The situation was dire… her music was ending, and her research was failing. She was losing him.
His music still played; somewhere, in another country, on a pathway towards nowhere in particular, walked the team known as Hebi. His voice was deeper, more sultry, and more sardonic than she would have recognized.
The music was darker, more personal than she would have recalled.
His hands were shoved into his pockets, his newest teammates talking amongst themselves, as he walked ahead of them. His eyes were fixated ahead, his mind in overdrive; Orochimaru was dead, or as far as he knew, and he had a team that would be useful to distract the remaining members of the Akatsuki. He had grown stronger, enough to surpass that of his teacher, and also to temporarily defeat Naruto.
He stalled inwardly, though his feet continued onwards. He hadn't thought on his… his could no longer call them friends, all associations with that word were long forgotten, and they weren't acquaintances. They were dead to him, at least for the most part.
The most vivid part of their meeting… was seeing her.
Stunned, emerald eyes wide, and lips parted in calling his name. Her voice still shook him, even after all the walls he had put up around his emotions. Her voice struck a chord within his hurricane of a heart, and yet, it was easier to turn his back on her this time, than when he had first said goodbye to her.
Hebi was his team now, and Sakura was a lost thought, something that would only come back to him occasionally. He fought it every time, he couldn't allow her to become a distraction.
He couldn't allow her beautiful eyes to clear the storm; he needed his anger, his hate, his murderous intent. He had forgotten to love, and he was unwilling to revive the feeling.
Even if that beautiful butterfly got caught in his hurricane.
Wow. Haven't written anything in a really long time; this is just a little drabble I wrote today, excited that school's over for me now. Just have exams left, and then off to Grade 12. ack. I hope I'll be able to write a lot more now, seeing as it's summer. I've been promising, but... I have my own book in progress, and that's taken foremost over writing fanfiction. I hope I can write some cheesy Vampire Knight next, or maybe a bit of DeathNote. That would be exciting. For all the Naruto fans though, I'm working on yet another work for here, so you'll probably see that soon. :)