Hey. This is my first FF on this site so please bear with me... Other than that, I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Also, the plot and any OC characters belong to me.
In the depths of some barren and desolate land, only the strong will survive. The bravest, the most cunning, the most powerful. Yet in the land that bore nothing more than trees infected with the most severe cases of arthritis, with soil that cracked and separated like a never ending spider web, and wind whistling through the shriveled branches of barren bushed, a single blossom bloomed.
It hurt.
It hurt to move, to breath, to think. There she lay, among hundred of thousands of bodies, blood smeared across her face, drowning in the scarlet liquid.
It was too late. There was no hope for the Allied Shinobi Forces. Naruto was dead, Sasuke was dead, Kakashi was dead, Tsunade was dead. Shikamaru, Neji, Sai, Ino, Hinata, Tenten. Everyone.
Haruno Sakura stared up at the sky through her one good eye. Her other was sealed shut, swelling. Her right arms was missing, torn off by a well, or poorly, aimed splinter. The ground was cracked and saturated with the blood of the fallen shinobi. The clearing was silent, all life gone. The sky, once as blue as Naruto's eyes, was a deep blood red.
Red as the blood that pooled around her.
Red as the fury, hopelessness, anguish, frustration that burned like a furnace within her.
The Rabbit Goddess won out in the end. Madara died for her plans, destroying the lives of thousands, millions. All for nothing. He, too, was now in the pits of hell.
There was no hope.
Sakura coughed heavily, blood spewing past her lips to join the growing puddle she lay in. A suffocating silence hung over the destroyed clearing. No one uttered a single thing. There was no one to say anything to.
Only Sakura remained.
And she would soon die, just like the rest of them, fighting in a futile war where the only victor was Death.
The kunoichi felt tears streaming down her face, clearing a path through the dried blood.
All she could think about were the what ifs.
What if she had been able to save Naruto and Sasuke and Kakashi and Sai and Ino and Tsunade and -
What if she had been able to stop Sasuke from leaving all those long years ago. To stop him from killing Itachi, to save Itachi from the fate that was never meant from him.
What if Obito hadn't died. What if Rin hadn't died, and the vagabond Uchiha had not gone mad with revenge.
What if Madara had not been swayed by the Black Zetsu to seek power, to seek eternity.
What if-
No. Now...
Kakashi should have lived. He should have grown old with them, lived a long life surrounded by his friends and students. So then maybe, just maybe, they could get him to stop standing in from of that accursed memorial for hours, and hours, and hours, in rain, snow, or shine. Now, he lay dead, mask burnt off, heart missing from his chest, Shringan eye missing, and his own eye staring blankly up at the sky.
Sai, he should have lived. He would have learned so much more about social interactions. Sakura would have helped him. He would still be awkward and blunt, but he would be alive and a part of Team 7. Now, he was another body in the mass that was smashed as the Ten Tails had released a tailed beast bomb.
Sasuke should be there. They finally teamed up. They were finally reunited. They could have returned to Konoha whole again, but now, he lay beside Naruto, cold as his heart once was with a tanto through his forehead, eyes plucked out of his skull like grapes.
Naruto should have survived. He should have become the greatest Hokage Konoha had ever seen. Team 7 would have been whole again. Sakura would have supported him through everything. No, he lies dead, eyes forever empty as he stared at the blood stained sky, blood trailing down his chin.
Sakura cried. She cried for what could have been, what should have been, what had happened, and all the times she could have helped.
Now, she was alone, surrounded only be the bodies, blood, and memories of her life.
And she cried for it.
She gave another sputtering cough. Her time drew near. Soon, she would join her friends and family, away from the accursed earth that was now stained with the lives of millions.
It was the end of life. It was the end of sound, end of hope, end of the world as they knew it.
It was the end. It was the beginning of the end. It was everything in between. There was no future, there is no present, and there is no past.
Sakura let her eyes slip closed, feeling the pain of every breath tear through her body. Her heart fluttered weakly, pathetically, as she bled out. Her mouth was dryer than Suna, her head was spinning faster than Kiba and Akamaru (both who lay buried under the earth), and she gave up. Bright light shone through her eye lids, but she did not have the energy to open them. She took her last shuddering breath, cried her last, tiny tear, and her stopped.
And so, Haruno Sakura, the lone survivor of the Fourth, and Last, Great Shinobi War, died.
And the world was engulfed in silence.