This is the beginning of what I previously wrote. The 'chapter' before this actually comes after this bit here, but I'm not rearranging it because it doesn't flow properly either way. The bit in the chapter before this doesn't take place at the same time this is written. It actually takes place roughly a year later. However, that is not truly important when pertaining to this chapter. So anyways, happy reading and please review! I'd love that.

Oh—and this is Sakura's thoughts throughout the whole chapter—just so we're clear.

Flicker

I'm fine. I am fine.

I knew it was a lost cause from the start, I knew that. I…I expected what happened. It didn't take me by surprise. I knew he'd marry.

All that I really didn't know was when. Of course he would leave Orochimaru and return to Konoha and be reinstated and get re-used to the routine and then….well, then time would pass and he would make decisions. Yeah, I knew that.

And I knew he wouldn't marry Ino. He never loved her. He would choose a different broad, and really, I didn't know who would capture his attention.

Of course I found out. Watanabe Saika caught his eye. Both of them actually. I remember their courting days, when he was so completely focused upon this girl that sometimes he would slip in training, allowing Naruto to get the better of him. His attentions were so aptly given to her every whim….Some of the things she said were so completely ridiculous that I wondered how he wouldn't get aggravated with her. I especially wondered how he didn't snap at her and call her annoying. He called me that so many times and yet he never called her that once.

He didn't see anything else with her around. His normally cold eyes flickered with passion and emotion, and he refused to be separated from her…Adoration was so obvious and it was so strange to see it coming from him. It rolled off in waves and it made him so human. He hadn't been human for three years. He hadn't been happy for six.

Now he was both.

I hated her. She was so bright and cheery all the time, despite any circumstance. She was pretty too, prettier than me. There was this natural way with her, she couldn't be unkind. Who she was, that was hard to hate. But I worked at it, I thought of what she had stolen from me and it became easier. I thought of the way he looked at her, the way he talked to her, the way he went to such lengths for her…I thought of how she was regarded in his eyes and it all became easier. It became easier to house that abhorrence in my heart. Of course I tried not to think at all, and then I was nice to her. Not so dark and mean. Yet I could not forget that Saika had never known him in his youth….She was not his teammate.

I was glad to see him happy. That was important. She gave him such joy…They were always touching one another and always intertwined. Their hands would never remove themselves of their own accord. She loved to play with his hair. It fascinated her, I think. He loved to pick her up by the waist and hold her high in the air, that smile so full of delight upon his face. They spent their first summer together as lovers in Konoha. Naruto and I were always close by, and nearly always some of our classmates too. Shikamaru constantly turned away from the laughing lovers because he couldn't stand the mushy stuff.

I was suffocated every moment. Gasps of air came when Naruto or Ino cared for me. They saved me from absolute death. I tried to hide my pain, but I think they knew. They were certainly more sensitive than I thought they should have any reason to be.

Time rolled on and they were in their first year of marriage. Their son is beautiful. He's like a walking portrait of his father. A quick learner, a strong fighter, a top ninja. His daughter is beautiful too. She bears his eyes and lustrous eyelashes—with hair like her mother. They are his pride and joy. It's so plain. When we're on missions, he's constantly looking at photographs of them. He's happy, I think. He's certainly devotedly married.

Years have passed since they were newlyweds. Time rolls on; it waits for no one….

We're being assigned to another mission today. The Godaime tells us we are going to the mist. Hunter-nins are there, wreaking havoc on the city and bridge. Rumors of rape and slaughter are also coming through the grapevine, more like truth than gossip. We are being sent to save the townspeople, rebuild the city…We are expected to go to the bridge. Parts of the foundations have cracked, leaving it unsafe for travel. The town needs that bridge, so we are obligated to fix it.

We are expected to go to the bridge.

Curse the memories that rise to the conscious level of my mind. Drowning me, they pull me in and take me down. Not sinking, but being dragged down, nearly hauled, to the depths of that sea, the water no longer as warm as it once was. The achingly beautiful, painfully sweet remembrances stab my very soul with those icy jets of water. It is so cruel to be forced into remembering these things, things which having once captured my heart will never lose it. That is why I cannot forsake my misery. My heart still resides in it.

I force myself to appear as normal. It would not due to show emotion here, not in her office, not with his eyes, not with friends' attentions. Our precious Godaime continues on, explaining the meticulous details of this trip. I strain to hear the words, a dull roaring in my ears and dead weight blocking the holes. If I could just kick and swarm this biting water with my arms…just get my head above sea-level….The water crashes down as my head breaks free from the spell and I am able to turn my attention solely to Tsunade. I listen with careful business interest, not drawing personal connections.

Of course, I am always subject to time. In a few minutes, I won't be able to hold the façade at all, and I am sure my true thoughts will spring forth unheeding of my position. So unable to control this piece of me that is resilient, I do what I should not do. I let my eyes slide imperceptibly to the Uchiha that is near me. I search for his eyes among a face now set in stone, and I both dread and detest what I know I shall find there. His chin has grown arrogant in years, by his own genetics and practiced intentions. Ever since his chin became remorseless, so has everything else. The bit of stone at the tip of his face has slowly covered his features, all the way up to his nose. The granite only cracks for his children or Naruto. But it absolutely crumbles for her.

I know I shouldn't look, and a great part of me does not want to look, but the smaller, stronger part of me must look. I am so sure this is going to hurt, I know it's going to hurt, because it has always hurt. But I must check, I mustn't leave it undone….

My well-concealed sad eyes, the ones that are clouded behind with tears, hunt for black onyx amidst marble. There they are.

Those perfect eyes are marked with indifference. They are substantially consumed with apathy, and he couldn't care less about any of it. The bridge is unrelated to him.

She finally finishes, and I wait for her formal words to come forth, and then I regurgitate my own back to her. We are released from her presence.

I don't think I can breathe anymore. I mean I'm trying, but whether or not real oxygen is filling my body, I can't be sure. Everything is so surreal and terrifying, but the worst of it is this overwhelming, overriding desperation and sadness. Its steel hand has been clutching me all these years now, handling my heart in stillness the majority of the time. Yet now, today, in this event, in this expectation…not only does it hold me with its pitiless fingers, but it shakes me, awakening my sleeping disaster. Removing the numbness from my mind, it has completely upset me again. More than upset me.

I just need to break now. I just need to let myself this time.

And I will. My pink hair walks through hallways and around corners, darts down streets, flits past outskirts, and absolutely flies up steps…

The Hokage faces will be the haven. Not necessarily the escape, and not really a fix, but merely a safe place to sob and die with no one to bother you. I need that now too, because the dreamlike phase has passed, and reality has hit like a thousand cobblestones grinded to kill.

One would think that after all this time I would know how to deal with pain. Most everyone learns to deal with disappointments and heartaches. I learned to deal with Sarutobi's death and the deaths of others. I'm stronger because of it. Yet again, I am unable to handle him.

You know….I don't love him because of what he is today. I don't love the apathetic man he has become. No, my passion comes from what once was. I remember the boy from the park, playing with sand castles and slinging sand at those too slow to avoid the tiny grains. I remember when we would eat ramen together and he would, if only for a little while, let down his guard and actually have fun with us. I remember missions that put our lives in danger—and he would show his true feelings to ones he was about to lose. I remember words whispered in my ear when I was terrified in a forest, a mad snake-charmer about to rip my soul from me. I remember the one who fought for what was right and fair and decent, even if he did try not to let other people see it. I remember the sheer terror he had of evil—how Orochimaru shot fear into his very bones. I remember how hard he rebelled against darkness that day. I remember the boy who didn't like girls or Naruto, because they all had ninja cooties.

I remember when he was normal. I remember before Itachi, and I remember before Orochimaru. I remember.

And I don't stop loving him because he's gotten better at being cold. And I don't stop loving him because he's gotten better at not being cold to her.

I don't stop. I don't think I could, anyway. If it had been anyone else, I know I could overcome myself and be living a content life. But no one in this world is quite the same as him. Ever since the first moment, he took my breath away. It's not looks either; I'm no longer the little girl ogling to get a better view of him. No, it's what he is. It's all about how he was so carefully wonderful at being the greatest person I've ever met. All about how good he was in a world of evil. I had never and have never met anyone that was such a standout. His goodness…is more than this world to me.

I am jealous and angry and sad and broken not because he's handsome. I am jealous and angry and sad and broken because I know he's a treasure. He's more than common jewels. I, and anyone else who has watched him so intently over the years, know he is the rarest of all jewels and the only one to ever come so polished and sharp.

Honestly, I could never marry because of him. I guess I lied when I said I was fine. I'm not, not at all. I haven't been fine for fifteen years. He married when I was twenty and that….that was the end of that. I…expected it. I knew he'd marry. I just didn't know when or to whom. Of course, I found these things out. And honestly, Saika deserves all of those good things. She's not a ninja and she needs someone to care for her. He…he does a great job with it. He's a fine father and a loving….and a loving husband.

A loving husband.

My chest hurts so bad, and my eyes have never been as salty as now. Apart from the rain on my head and the darkening sky, I still wouldn't be able to stay dry or hopeful. The pain is too much, the pain is always too much….Tears cascade down my face and fall on open-toed shoes. He actually doesn't care about the bridge. Those memories…those bittersweet memories mean nothing to him anymore. Is he really that far away? Does he really not care about those days we spent in the mist, those events that Naruto, Kakashi, and I count as some of the most precious of our lives? Can he really not care?

No. He can care, just never about anything but her and his children. I don't blame him for his son and daughter…but she didn't even know him. She didn't even know him! She wasn't there when Orochimaru had hold of him or when Itachi killed his whole clan. She wasn't there for him and she didn't care for him. But we did, Team Seven did! He gave all of his affections to her, someone who did nothing but show up in Konoha as a transfer ninja. Why didn't he love me when I was always there? Why didn't he love me when I tried so hard? Why didn't he fight for me? Why did he let me go?

Maybe I should've forgiven him sooner. I had every right not to, I had every right to never speak to him again after his betrayal. I laid my feelings out in front of him and all he could say was thank-you. Then he knocked me out and ran off with the ambitious snake pervert who used him until he was depleted and he had to come crawling back to Konohagakure, begging for forgiveness. I did forgive him, but not in the first months. He was so pathetic on his knees, and I was angry. In those days I was that merciless person that he had spent a lot of time being to me. I didn't know he wanted me to be nice.

I can't stay here. I've got to get on with it; I can't keep dwelling on the past. Being here for a while is necessary, but staying is detrimental. I can't exist in sorrow unleashed forever; it's got to be bottled again. I'll go home, prepare for tomorrow, be ready for his presence again. Naruto and Ino will be coming so I won't be alone. They'll rescue me from my thoughts with their shrill voices. I won't get two seconds of quiet…Thank God they exist.

But it is pathetic. It's pathetic for me to be so in love with a married man. It's pathetic for me to react the way I do. It's pathetic for me to have sold my heart at so young an age. It's pathetic that I never even had a chance. It's pathetic that I poured my life out on him…and he picked the girl whose life wasn't even in the same universe.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

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—cappuccinosunshine