Part One:
Sea Boy and Desert Girl
Chapter Two
Under the Lemon Tree: Roots
"I loved you, so I drew these tides of men into my hands and wrote my will across the sky in stars"
-T.E. Lawrence
Everything she had decided to pack fit smugly inside two wooden crates, and the red suitcase she so rarely took out of her old closet. Her books and weapons stored in traveling scrolls placed under the belt around her waist.
Her parents had agreed to let her move out on her own. Simply saying a small farewell and only asking her to visit them from time to time.
Carrying the wooden crates and suitcase had only taken her one trip using a small portion of the inhuman strength she'd began to be famous for. And the feeling of putting the gold key that now only belonged to her inside the lock was one she would never be able to forget. Opening a door and knowing that the possibilities of whatever became of the house would be entirely up to her.
The house was sparely furnished. A red couch and coffee table the only furniture the living room consisted of. The kitchen containing only empty wooden cabinets and shelves that had been painted white, just like the walls.
But what had made Sakura smile was the apple red tiled floors, crystal clear double windows that allowed sunlight to stream inside from the front and side parts of the house, and the green-bricked stove alongside the white painted kitchen counter. A washing sink covered entirely with small river stones, and a beaded hanging door portraying the stance of a blooming lemon tree.
Almost immediately after entering the place she would now call her home, Sakura had laid down on the floor. The tiles cool despite the summer air blowing in through the open windows. A growing smile blooming across her lips as she took a deep breath and said, "I'm home."
She had carried her red suitcases inside the room she would be sleeping in, and opened it to take out a bandana with painted ponies dancing across to help keep her hair from falling in front of her eyes. After changing into a pair of old faded jeans, and an old mustard yellow button up shirt that had once upon a time belonged to her father, Sakura had begun to clean the dust of every corner of her new home.
It had taken an embarrassing short amount of time to unpack all of her remaining clothes and hang them on the closet with the sliding doors. Her long flowery skirts, pastel colored shirts and daring underwear taking almost no space at all inside the closer with the wine-red shelves and doors.
A few set of cooking pans, mugs, plates, silverware and a sole bottle of cooking oil were set upon the kitchen counter, while a green set of gardening tools and seeds where placed on the living room floor. The two wooden crates left empty and stacked against a wall.
Overall, the moving in had taken approximately two hours to finish, and by the time her friends had stopped by with bags of instant food, small boxes of fresh vegetables, and homemade olive oil all they'd found was a brilliant Sakura. Smiling at the mere sight of them, and with hands flying as she told them all about the wonderful, absolutely wonderful place she'd moved into. It had not even mattered the few sitting options or the lack of a proper welcome party to set the mood, for just seeing their once solemn friend talk with such joy again was enough for them to feel right at home.
Ino had been the one whose arms immediately went around her as she hugged her. Bags of food carelessly dropped on the floor as she told Sakura again and again, "you found yourself again."
Sakura had always found the whole notion of 'losing' or 'finding' oneself a careless one, but with the sense of newfound vitality she'd was hard pressed not to agree.
Shikamaru had simply smiled at her and given her the fresh olive oil his mother had sent with him. Feet carrying him straight to the only couch after placing the oil in her hands. Choiji had brought her some vegetables from his family's garden and a few containers with food his mother had packed for her.
Sakura had smiled and thank them, and smiled again as she unpacked the food, talked with them and reminisced over their shared childhood memories.
However, it wasn't until Hinata, Shino, and Kiba arrived that a light started to shine again inside her green eyes. For while Shino and Kiba showered her with more welcome home gifts, Hinata had only brought a small plant with her. The words 'lemon tree' cleanly printed across a small sticker alongside the plastic orange pot.
"Thank you!" Sakura said, throwing her arms around Hinata's small frame and the plant safely housed between her own hands.
It had only taken two hours to finish moving in, thirty minutes to finish saving all of the food her friends had brought her, twenty minutes of laying on the floor talking and laughing with Ino, Shikamaru, and Chouji while waiting for the rest of their friends to arrive, and only five minutes to gather her gardening shovel and a bewildered Hinata to plan the lemon tree right by the front of her house. Her friends looking on with different levels of wondering eyes as Sakura fell to her knees and began digging.
"I just think this is the perfect place to plant it," she explained with a sheepish smile grazing her lips as she looked up into clear violet eyes.
"Of course it is," Hinata said in her level, soothing voice while getting to her knees and taking the tree out from its plastic pot and arranging the soil around the small hole Sakura had dig up.
A matching smile blooming on her face at Sakura's welcoming laugh.
"I once heard that every house needs roots in order to grow," Sakura said as she placed her dirty hands on her jeans, "thank you for bringing me mine."
Her new house needed a bed and more furniture. More plates, pans, mugs, and spoons. Plants that would bloom in every season, and a better set of cleaning equipment. New curtains and more tables and chairs.
Her new house needed a new bedroom door, and a window pane to be repainted blue, but what it did not need were the seeds from where the roots would grow.
A/N: Chapters will probably continue to be short, for long paragraphs have always been hard to write for me. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this story.