Title- Bitter Sweet
By- Envo
Disclaimer- I don't own Naruto.
Chapter 2
"You never leave someone behind; you take a part of them with you and leave a part of yourself behind." - Author Unknown
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Her eyes flew open amidst of breathless gasps.
The scenes that had haunted her moments earlier still slid by carelessly before her unseeing eyes. Her muscles were strung with stress and her skin was blanketed with a fine sheen of perspiration. The frenzy drumming of her heart beating against her ribcage robbed her of her breath. She was burning inside, consumed by the boiling turmoil. Yet on the outside she was ice-cold.
She trembled. The shiver ran deep beneath her skin as sheets rustled around her form, defenseless against the assaults of horrifying images swimming before her eyes and the violent turbulence coursing within her veins. Her mouth was dry with the taste of terror lingering on her tongue and the darkness surrounding her did not help in calming her mood.
Then, like a ray of light piercing through the darkness, warmth started to seep into her and trickles into her bloodstream. The soothing sensation spread from her back and traveled the length of her body until she could feel herself free from the paralyzing effect that held her in place. Her previously taut muscles lax as pictures fade from her eyesight. Unconsciously, she leaned back towards the heat source from behind, when said source shifted.
Belatedly, she became aware that the heat circling her back was not from the comfort of her blanket, but instead originated from another body lying behind her. Almost immediately, her body tensed and stiffened. The arm that was casually draping over her midriff constricted lightly, drawing her attention to the body mass pressing so intimately close to hers.
Neck straining and eyes widened, she twisted her body, rumpling the sheets and search the space beside hers. Even though the crowding darkness obscured most of her sight, and even though the minuscule lights crept through the open window barely lit the gloomy sable corners of her room, she could still recognize the eyes that gazed down at her without skipping a heartbeat. Doe-like, almost feminine eyes of obsidian glimmered in the stygian background, and when she looked into those tunnels of never-ending pits, she was immediately lost like a dear caught in headlights. Dazedly, she felt her hands reaching up to trace a shaky path from the corner of one onyx orb and down to the corner of the lips before falling away numbly. Her heart squeezed almost painfully in her chest. So familiar.
The enormity slowly dawned, and with it came the burn at the corners of her eyes.
Without a thought, she burrowed deep into his arms. Too drunk on the musky masculine scent that was so uniquely his, she did not noticed the subtle stillness in his composure before disappearing when she twined herself onto him like vise, tangling their limbs in the process. Her palm, flattened against his clothed torso, shook as steady pulsates beat strongly underneath her fingertips.
Bah Thump. Bah Thump.
Relief came at her like a series of shock waves, claiming her in every corner and washed away all uneasiness and edginess. As if she was freed from the sea of anxiety when a tranquil breeze parted all the worries and took away the heavy chain of panic and fright. The change was immense, and all at once, floods of emotion coursed through her to the point where she could not tell one end from another. She felt light; the heavy bundle of emotions nestled in her abdomen was no longer there to hold her down.
Vaguely aware of her hand clenching at his bicep, she allowed the rivers of tears to free-fall down her cheeks.
"You are here."
The quivering, hoarse murmur was the only thing her tight throat could muster as she repeated over and over again. It no longer occurred to her that the words uttered were incoherent with her cracked and slurred voice; the only thing that mattered the most was the reiterating confirmation of his presence.
"You really are here with me… Itachi."
The hand circling the small of her back paused. Then with one swift movement, the remaining space between them disappeared as she was tugged snugly underneath his chin. An index finger came under her chin and gently yet insistently baring her tear-stained face for him to examine freely. But she wasn't ready. With her eyes shut, she shook her head lightly and hid herself back into his embrace. Moments later, she felt the lone finger slid up from her chin to the corner of her lips, then up to intersect with strands of tear trials on her redden cheeks. His soft caress only brought on more tears as he gently wiped away the excess moist on her face with a sigh.
The chanting mantra slowly died at her lips, but with wisps of hot tears still sliding down her cheeks and the simmering sentiments just barely controlled, she was still afraid. Afraid that he was only a ghostly image conjured by her beyond desperate mind, afraid that once she left his embrace and open her eyes, everything would disappear. And that he would be gone. The thought drove another wave of fresh tears down the corner of her tightly shut eyes. She could only pour all the 'unsaid' in forms of tears into his shirt while her other hand muffled the endless string of miserable sobs torn of her body.
She didn't know how long she stayed lying there with constant tears streaming down her face. When there were no more tears to shed, she was content in listening to their combined breathing and drinking in his scent like an addicting drug while the lulling drumming palpitate by her ears. The hot breaths fanning her nape coupled with the warmth surrounding her slowly pushing her towards the unconscious world and into the realm of sleep. Alarmed, her eyes shot wide; instantly, she found herself looking straight into his eyes.
He held her gaze steadfastly. Slowly, the tight knot in her abdomen began to untie themselves and she let out a breath she did not realize holding. Her eyes were opened wide, and her Itachi was still here with her. It was not a part of her feverish hallucination…this was real.
He continued to draw mindless circles on her back while their gazes locked onto each other. The breeze seeped through the window and grazed by exposed skin. One loose strand of hair slipped past her shoulder and tickled her chin. A faraway siren sounded, and another one followed. She blinked, and the trance was broken. That was when her wondering eyes noticed the hard set of his jaw and the swirling unknown in the pair of usually veiled and guarded eyes.
Guilt quickly ebbed through the surface. Ashamed, she lowered her eyes and brought her hands to his drenched shirt.
"I worry you. I'm sorry." The words barely made it past her raw throat; her raspy voice made her wince.
Blankets rustled, and she found herself once again tugged tightly against him. Heat immediately made their way under her skin, warming her to her very toes. She closed her eyes and sighed tiredly.
"Dream?" The quiet inquiry penetrated the fog of sleep, and she found herself nodding lightly in response. Warm air stirred loose her hair and a sigh followed before the bed shifted. Immediately her eyes shot open.
"What are you doing, Itachi?"
The silhouette beside her continued to move away as she felt their limbs untangled from one another. The rapidly dissipating warmth was replaced by cool air that raised goose bumps on her skin.
"You should stay home today."
With surprisingly difficulty, she reached out to his side of the mattress, but found him already standing at the end of their bed. The placid tone had heightened the chill in the air, and panic stole into her quick to hysteria mind.
Swallowing the lump in her throat and ignoring the alarm sounding in her head, she attempted to sit up. "Itachi, where are you going?"
The backward glance was anything but reassuring. "Stay in bed, Sakura. It's dawn, work is calling." And with that, he turned away and strode towards the door.
Trepidation consumed her. The surges of recently controlled emotions ran loose once again, and she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, echoing in the soon-to-be empty room.
"Wait, Itachi—" Her hands suddenly gave out from beneath her and dropped her back onto the mattress. Her fingers clawed at the sheets that seemed to be slipping out of her fingertips. Desperate, she called out again, "Itachi, wait!"
She was sinking, held down by a bed of quicksand. It didn't matter how much she struggled, there was no way out. And as his shadow slowly disappeared from the corner of her eyes, she was nearly choking with dread. Her croaking cries were silent in her ears, and her limbs were laden as if chained. Basking in the dawning light, there was nothing in her vision but the pure white blaze. The walls were closing in, and the pressure was skyrocketing. Breathing was no longer an option. Wild fire burned down her throat with each breath, and the inferno soon spread through her lungs. The soft and soothing lights turned to flames licking at her skin and consuming everything in her sight and transforming the peaceful white into a living hell with its bright orange glow.
The painful silence at her ears mocked at her throat's effort. But inside, she was screaming. Even as darkness took her, she was still screaming—
"Itachi!!"
Like an invisible hand, the cry wrenches her body forward from the comfort of her bed as her eyes flies open with urgency. The immediate assaults of bright light and heavy pounding behind her eyes make her collapses back onto the bed with a hiss. The palm shielding her eyes from the rays touches upon wet skin, making her pause. Slowly sitting up again with squinted eyes, her fingers finding numerous traces of tear trials left on her face, and when her other hand braces her weight against the pillow, she shockingly find the casing drenched with moist. Her hand recoils as if burnt.
The hammering in her head only intensifies further as she cradles her hand to her chest and shies away from the blinding brightness, turning away from the window. To the other side of the bed.
In her own shadow, her eyes take in the neatly tuck, untouched sheets while her hand, on its own accord, reaches towards the bedspread. Underneath her stretching fingertips, she can almost see him with his lashes fanning his cheekbones resting peacefully, as if it is just another morning and she wakes to find him soundly asleep. As if… nothing happened.
Then her hand touches upon cold sheets, and the illusion disperses into fragments. A shudder steals through her person and her palm suddenly feels too warm against the chilly fabric. She raises her hand to her eyes, only to discover it caked with a viscous coat of blood.
Choking on her scream, she leaps out of the bed with sheets in tow and heads straight towards the bathroom. She doesn't stop as she speeds by the numerous bouquets lay unwrapped on the kitchen isle; she doesn't spare a glance towards the yellow envelope sitting quietly next her chain of keys with the all-too-familiar address from her supervisor. All she does is flipping on the switch to the lights located in the small rectangle restroom and slams open the door.
The facet is running and the ice-cold water streams down her fingers. She knows the water draining down the pipe is clear, but the sensation on her hand is all too real. Blood had been all over her gloved hands when she tried to revive him that day, but even without the glove, she had felt the slickness of the life fluid as she frantically performs CPR. It is a sensation she wishes she could forget, a sensation she wishes she never had to feel. It has already been weeks since then, and she can still feel the warm liquid smear across her palm and hear the monotone, unstopped beep of the ICU monitor from time to time.
Her eyes float to the small orange bottle, next to the two toothbrushes on the edge of the vanity counter, and lands onto the round, white pills lying within. She couldn't sleep at night, and when she does, she dreams of him, and the replaying scenes of loosing him over and over. So she turns to the pills. But it doesn't help her case. It only worsens.
She twists the facet handle and shuts off the flow of water. Nothing works; there is nothing to take the pain away from her, nothing to lessen the guilt that grips her day and night.
Her eyes catch the reflection in peripheral view, and she finds herself looking into the mirror at a person she cannot recognize. Pale pallor and slightly sunken cheeks emphasizes the palpable cheekbones. Crack, bloodless lips parts with its corners turning downwards as tousled pink hair forms a sharp contrast with the unhealthy appearance while red, puffed up eyes lined with dark bags gazes back at her.
She watches as thin fingers reach up and brushes by pasty skin with morbid wonder. She never looks into the mirror, not since that day. And now as she gazes at herself, a sense of loss wells up inside her. Was it only weeks ago when he left? Somehow, time has left its trace on her despite its short passage.
Tearing her eyes away, she reopens the facet and splashes water onto her face to clear away the fog gathering at the corner of her eyes. Then without looking back at the mirror, she dries her hands, turns, and walks out of the door.
Her feet brings her pass the kitchen and the living room, pass the door leading to the bed she leaped away from moments earlier and stops in front of the ceiling to floor, glass window that overlooks the abuzz roads and the heavily veiled mountain tops faraway on the line of horizon.
Below, the congestion is still is busy as ever; with bustling streets and crowded sidewalks, the lively city is divided up with twists and turns of slow moving streams. Somewhere far off, a honking horn pierces through the otherwise silent room along with the trickling beams of soft light through the clear pane of glass.
Tick. Tock.
Inside, the insistent hands on the clock keeps its pace as the measured time slips slowly by with each jerky movement. The seeping ray sends sparks across the well-furnished living room, revealing swaying dances of small specs in the air.
Tick. Tock.
She inhales slowly as she counts the seconds passing by. Six hundred and seventy-two hours ago, her life had been nothing but the ordinary. Twenty-eight days later, she is lost. One month after, it still feels like a dream; a nightmare she'll wake up from and find herself incased within his arms, with her head tuck beneath his chin and strong, steady beats of his heart lulling and soothing her nerves.
Tick. Tock.
Everything is the same. The house, the furniture, nothing has changed; trances of him can be found everywhere. His scent still lingers in every corner of their flat, bringing her memories that tear apart her already shattered heart even more. Sometimes, just sometimes, she still expects him to walk through that door with that same stride she became so familiar with; that sometimes, she still waits for the turn of the knob at the end of the day.
Tick. Tock.
But now, all that is left of him is the scent accompanying her long, lonely nights and pieces of memory captured by their digital camera.
You said you would return to me at the end of the day. You promised.
"You broke your promise, Itachi."
Her hand touches the white marble slab pillowing on a slightly larger, dark grey granite tablet. The stone, a touch warmer than its natural chill after bathing under the rays of sun for the entire morning, seems to glimmer under the gentle light in her eyes. Dusting away debris invisible to her eyes, she let her eyes wander across the letters curved into the plaque and swallows with difficulty.
A breeze passes by, tugging free stray strands of hair behind her ears; immediately, her eyes latches onto her hair as she forcefully blinks away the sting at the corner of her eyes. The hand grasping a simple bouquet of daisies and forget-me-not's tightens.
One mouth and two weeks… and it still hurt.
The shower of carnation moves in slow motion as she watches petals fly and land by her feet. Its familiar shape and lazy, twirl movement in the wind draws her into herself; into piece of memory she tuck away. Summer. Picnic. Park. Tree. Petals. Flowers. Hands. Holding—She clamps her eyes shut. Not that. not now.
Placing the bundle of flower down before the smooth plate curved with his name, she straightens her form and heaves a subtle, trembling sigh.
Opening her eyes, she looks at the strokes that makes up his name and manages a weak smile. "Got yourself in trouble… as always." The sudden image of his glare with flashing ire stills her quivering lips.
"You left me in an awkward situation, you know?" She can feel her smile slipping.
"It is neither here or there," she pauses and breathes in deeply to stall the impending sting pricking at the corners of her eyes, "a-and you know I really hate that."
It is the second breath, and the lump seems worsen even more. "Inconsiderate… tactless… idiot."
The tingles in her nostrils tell her she cannot hold out any longer before the dam breaks. Her fists clench tightly until she feels the uncomfortable strain on her knuckles, then she breathes in and tries again.
"But I… I forgive you," the soreness crawls up her throat and her face scrunches at the impending sting, "for getting into trouble that you cannot fix." It hurts to breathe.
"I-I'll overlook your inconsiderateness… I won't even hold it against you for being such a tactless idiot…"
"I… for leaving—" the first drop of tears slips out of her eyes and slide down her cheek, "I just… I miss you, Itachi." They keep coming, one after another; she doesn't bother to stop the free-flowing droplets as they roll heavily down her face and splats onto the tip of her shoes.
Her sobs ring loudly in the silent cemetery, and soon, she is grasping for breath in between hiccups and whimpers. Her nails are biting into her palm in painful half-moons and she can feel her top slowly soaking in the constant drop of tears. "I miss you… so much."
Warmth envelops her as she feels the wind's brush against her wet cheeks and draws her stray hair back, away from her face. She stares dazedly at the mesmerizing play of swirling sakura petals and occasional leaves whirl around her. The motion of graceful glide in empty space draws her into a trance until one of the petals lazily grazes across the back of her hand. The soft, ghostly sensation releases her of its enthrall.
Feeling the pain on her palms and the numbing along her fingers, she uncurls her hand and wipes away the chilled lines of tears hastily. The breeze still embraces her and the chase of petals and leaves is still on the play, but with her mind distracted momentarily of the paralyzing anguish and unadulterated forlorn, she is able to remember the words she want to say… to him.
"Sakura, letting go is also a lesson you must learn as a surgeon. Just because you save lives from death's door doesn't mean you can do it every time; we are only human, not God. The both of you fought hard, and that's all that matters."
Her lips parts with a shuddered breath as she places a hand over her staggering heart. "I-It's not as easy to overcome this hurt as you said, Itachi. But I… I remembered."
"If something were to happen to me, I want you to move on, Sakura. Live… and be yourself."
A bitter smile finds its way onto the corner of her lips as she recalls the sudden declaration when he came home that night many, many months ago; words that she only reclaimed weeks ago when she was nearly overcome with grief and guilt and on the verge of losing herself.
"You are still taking care of me… even now." Turning her face heavenward, she looks up at the puff of white cloud that is drifting by. "Thank you."
The soothing zephyr carries into the background; in the still air, the sobs and hiccups slowly subside, leaving her stolen by the quiet and tranquil air and a sense of calm.
"It won't be easy; you took a part of me when you left. But I… I will try to keep that promise."
She tucks her hand into her left pocket. "You know, you are not off the hook yet." Her hand fiddles with the smooth, circular band between her fingers, and with a small smile she gazes at his name, "I will be expecting you to keep your promise to me in the next life. You still owe me an apology, a kiss, … and a wedding."
A/N: Result of 'One-week-challenge' from Bob-geko. Yes, Bitter Sweet is finally updated and finished. For the really long wait, I offer my deepest apology. This story is perhaps by far the hardest I've ever written. And very much like I told Bob-geko, there not a time I touch Bitter Sweet without ending up extremely depressed (well, the plot is formed when I was really down, so go figures). But nonetheless, it is done, leaving me both sad and happy at the same time.
I tried my best to convey the sense of loss; because sometimes, happy endings just don't happen for some. Since I've been writing quite a few happy stories, I figured that one of these sad ones will balance out the phases of reality a little better.
I realized that there are still a few strings that are still hanging freely and quite a few more things that still need explaining, so I'm considering doing an one-shot on the basis of Sakura and Itachi's relationship. That, however, will depend on the time I'm allot to write with my schedule now, so we'll see from here.
Again, I'd like to thank my reviewers and readers for sticking with me for so long. And I hope this update lives up to the previous chapter. Reviews are extremely encouraging for me to keep writing.
Envo 01/12
