The Story about You
The story started ages and ages past their flourishing youth.
It was winter, and the snow was deep. Her house was white and the trees were bare. She stood by the stove waiting for her hot water for tea, empty cup already in her hand. The fireplace had been lit up hours ago, but the room still froze with the wintry wind outside.
It had been years and years since her youth. And she was all alone. Her friends had gone either dead or moved away like she did. Her mentors now old and senile, one unable to recognize her pink hair and sad beautiful smile. He would just look at her and would suddenly giggle like a child, and then he would say, "Iyaaa! Look at that! You look like spring."
Sometimes, when he said that each time he saw her, she would just smile and convince herself that somewhere inside him, he still remembered her, like the way he remembered spring. After all, she was the princess of spring.
There was a time when he blurted out something that went, "You almost looked like a mother, but when I look at you, you reminded me of that little girl. I don't remember her name, but I think she was my daughter? Do I have a daughter, Haruno-san?"
He never did have a child, nor did he settle down to marry. But somehow, she knew he really did remember her. And she hugged him tight and cried to him, like the little girl she had been.
Her best friend, her brother, had long been dead. Ten years. He died in honor. He saved the village in exchange for his life, like what all other Hokage gallantly did before him. She was stricken with grief while she healed him during his last moments. But he died with sheer happiness, and he whispered with his last breath that he would do it a million times over just for the beloved village.
Of course, in his last moments, he talked to her. Wished for her happiness that had been lost for years and years before. He said he knew that one day, she'd find it again, wear her most beautiful smile again; something he had failed to do for her, he added.
Tsunade-shishou had been dead, too. Of old age. And she was so much lovelier in her true form for she had aged so gracefully, it was envying. Shizune-senpai was somewhere travelling the Shinobi World to teach the medic arts; she had asked her to come but she chose to be left behind. Her colleagues had been reduced to half, as half of them died in missions or battles and their names were added to the Memorial Rock she would visit once a week.
It had been tough. And it was tougher when she decided to move out of the village. She had to do it for herself, just so she wouldn't peg herself in the past where life had been smooth. She needed time, and needed space, and needed to do something for herself to move on.
Hence, the little cottage at the outskirts of a new town was purchased. She had grown herbs and greens around it, and built a swing on one of the trees. In spring, lilacs and daisies filled the grass spread out in her garden. But there were no cherry blossoms around, and she said it was all the more better. In summer, the heat was lowered down by the breeze and the willows and gingkoes rustled with the rain. In fall, everything was russet and the trees were bare, and she would love to sit by the tree and read a book while the leaves would die and fall upon her. In winter, everything was gloomy. It was cold as it was white, and the snow never stopped, and it was sad because her coat could never keep her warm.
But everything went fine. She was fine, had been for the first time since everything was still complete. She became the town's medic, and every now and then, she would have apprentices for the town hospital. Once in a while, she would go back to Konohagakure and bring Kaka-sensei miso soup with eggplant, eat at Ichiraku Ramen and order three extra bowls she would never touch, stare at the Hokage Mountain where two faces would always, always pierce her heart with longing. And before leaving, she would kill herself anew and travel the long forgotten paths of town that led her to the derelict compound where the once-prestigious clan lived. She would always offer a candle by the doorstep of his home for all the sorrow and rue and tragedy the place represented. She would say a prayer that the clan would find their peace, and that remaining Uchiha would also find his.
She was never happy when she went back to her little cottage. But she managed. It was just one of her moments, and the next day she was different again. She would go about with her routine and she would say everything was fine.
She watched the fire on the stove as it licked the bottom of the kettle darkened through time. It had boiled longer than usual as the temperature of the room was too low. A loud knocking on the door suddenly filled the silence and stirred her back to her senses.
Hurriedly, she laid the cup on the counter and wrapped her arms around her to stay warm as she skidded across the hall to the door. It must be the kids who would always bring her chunks of wood for her fire. Or the old man who would always ask for her pain medications.
What she didn't know was that what awaited her would undo everything she had worked hard for.
"Please ma'am, let me stay for a night," the man pleaded, his head bowed and limbs curled to his stomach that was bleeding like an open faucet as he knelt in her front porch.
Of course she knew who it was. Despite his head bowed low, she would know that hair and that voice anywhere.
History had prevented her from having anything to do with him – much less utter a few words to him at that moment. However, human nature got ahead of her.
"Sasuke?"
The man instantly raised his head, surprised that someone still knew him. For years, he had wandered alone, and for years no one of any acquaintance was ever heard of again, or even met along the way.
"What are you still doing alive?"
"I could say the same thing to you," she scoffed, and was tempted to slam the door. Again, however, human nature got ahead of her. The scent and the sight of blood had triggered the medic instincts in her. "Can you still move?"
He didn't answer. But he struggled to stand and walk away from the door.
"Wait! Where are you going?" It was not her usual twelve-year-old "Wait, Sasuke-kun, don't go…" tone. It was the firm order of a respected doctor. "Could you at least come inside first, and let me tend to your wound."
He didn't budge, though. Pride and history dictated him to keep his distance and continue moving away.
"Stop being such a suck-up. Come inside. You can go after I stopped the bleeding." She knew, judging by his injury, that the more he travelled, the more he stayed in the cold, the more he stressed himself out, the smaller the chances of his survival.
"Hn." As much as he hated turning back and be indebted to her, he didn't have a choice. She walked past her porch and into the snow to help him in, not minding the numbing cold on her bare feet. Nor did he mind her closing in on his personal space, letting his weight sink on her so she can carry half of him.
From here it begins… The one and only story about you.
AN: Title Reference: Kimi Monogatari (The Story about You) - Naruto Shippuuden 3rd Ending
Chapter Title: Hajime - beginning
This would be a short story. I was just too tired to continue further, so I decided to make it a 2-chap fic instead.
Enjoy! And tell me what you think... :3