AUTHOR'S WARNING: I am REALLY SORRY. This update is not a continuation of the main storyline. I wrote the continuation three times and I wasn't happy with any of them at all. I deleted all of them and I'll rewrite the continuation next week, hopefully I will be satisfied so the story can move forward. I badly want the story to move as much as you do, but my horrible writer's block is seriously getting in the way.

For the mean time here's a chapter you can skip entirely if you want to. It's a flashback. Several people have asked me to write the funeral and I didn't really think it was a good idea at first. But after a major disappointment (the failure in writing a decent Chapter 14, that is), this idea continued to bug me and I thought I'd just get it over with.

If you don't like flashbacks, it's safe to skip this entirely. It's written for the people who asked for it. xD

Let's
pick up
where we left
off: bonds
like friendship
and meaning
started to unravel
beneath the weighted imitation
of life. Can we go
back
to the beginning?
When we were younger
and in some ways wiser
our hearts invincible
able to fill
despite knowing
one day
we will forget
to say
goodbye.

xxx

There was something incredibly peaceful and comforting in the air, in spite of what she'd prepared herself for.

"Must be all the orange and the yellow they had brought in here," she noted, scanning everything around them.

"They even found the perfect hue," she commented silently to herself, ignoring the tight knot forming in her stomach.

Sakura's head shot up to see Sasuke step into the crowd, which had begun filing silently into the seats. He was keeping his distance from the people as he observed them, his face void of any expression. Wearing his usual black coat, his form stood out from the flood of bright colors. Somehow this felt very symbolic to Sakura, she just didn't know exactly how.

"I will never be able to convince myself that orange used to be such an eyesore to me."

Sakura turned to see Iruka standing beside her.

The sadness Sakura had been trying to ignore at the pit of her gut threatened to burst at the sight of the people close to them, close to him. Sakura tried her best to fight the tears from falling.

She saw Iruka smile. "I will never know why he picked orange as a child. It could be just his favorite, like I've always assumed. But clearly, the color stood out, almost as if trying to catch attention."

Sakura let out a sigh. Don't, please, sensei, she pleaded in her mind as her eyes began to sting.

"Little did young Naruto know, time will come when this same color will symbolize something entirely different and hopeful, something his entire village will love."

A tear or two might have escaped, Sakura tried her best to ignore her own emotions. She wasn't sure how long she'd been biting at her lip, but now it hurt so badly.

He did not even glance at her, but to the pink-haired medic, his words had already given her so much comfort.

"He was like your son", she whispered almost absent-mindedly, "wasn't he?"

"A son, a brother, a friend, a hero... Yes," Iruka answered.

Before she knew it, Iruka had already disappeared into the crowd.

"Idiot," Sasuke accidentally muttered softly to himself, as he tried to shrug off the heavy feeling in his chest.

He wasn't even sure if he meant to say that to himself or to someone or to no one in particular. The word just... escaped him.

He could not remember when it became a habit, or if it was even a habit to begin with, but he had been thinking or saying idiot, loser, stupid, every time he was pissed off and it just felt so empty having no one to receive the end of it. The receiver was no longer there.

Sasuke let out a grunt.

Hidden under his coat, his arm was burning with possibly the worst pain he'd ever felt, second to having his other arm completely ripped off before. Unlike the last time, however, the pain in slowly healing so many broken bones lasted way longer. Sasuke refused to take any pain medication.

He knew none of it would take care of the pain he needed to get rid off the most.

His eyes drifted to the closed, bronze casket sitting in the middle of the platform, almost buried in so many white and yellow flowers.

"You really are such a loser."

Everyone turned when the late Hokage's family stepped into view.

Hanabi held Himawari's hand as she pulled her gently, leading her to the front row; the young girl's eyes were fixed on the ground. As they approached, the sea of flowers caught her attention and her gaze followed its trail — as soon as Himawari's eyes rested on the casket, she flinched.

When Boruto stepped in soon after, it was hard to miss — he, after all, was the only one who inherited the blonde hair. While his sister wore a white dress, Bolt was dressed rather casually, with only a white shirt and his usual pants. His headband hung loosely around his neck and his hands were in his pockets. As he reached the front row, he kept his back turned against the casket the entire time. He smiled softly and bowed lightly when he saw Kakashi looking at him a few rows back.

Kakashi responded with a soft nod from under his Hokage hat.

He hasn't been sleeping at all, the copy ninja noted.

"Do you know if he has been eating okay?" Kakashi asked, addressing the young boy seated beside him.

Shikadai only shook his head—his friend hadn't really talked to anyone since.

Sakura could only watch as Hinata approached the crowd. Her hair was tied up with a white ribbon and she was wearing an orange kimono. Sakura recognized it was the gift from Naruto — the gift she once helped him choose.

As much as she wanted to comfort her and make sure Hinata was okay, she didn't know what to say or do. She could not imagine being in her place right now. But the First Lady was a strong woman, she reminded herself, as she watched her smile and approach her family who had been seated in the crowd.

She greeted each of them, her eyes sincerely conveying her gratitude. But there was something in the way she carried herself that made Sakura's heart break — Hinata did not spare the casket a glance at all.

Her gracefulness lasted for every person she greeted, but when, at the end of the row, she came face to face with her own teacher, Hinata was rather caught off guard.

"Kurenai," she stared at her.

"Hinata, darling..." the crimson-eyed woman placed a hand on Hinata's shoulder, and they stared at each other, seemingly longing to communicate in silence...

... Until Hinata could not fake it any longer.

Kurenai quickly pulled her student in a hug as Hinata's cries rang in the air. It was the most painful sob Sakura had ever heard. Hinata kept it to herself for a long time.

"I'm sorry I could not be there when it happened, Hinata, I am very sorry," Kurenai whispered as she held the younger woman tightly, softly rocking sideways as she cradled her.

Hinata was mumbling words that were incomprehensible, but which Kurenai could understand all too well — these were questions she had once asked herself, things she had once regretted, when Asuma died. Kurenai hated that her student eventually had to go through the same.

"How did you do it?" Hinata asked. "How did you... find the strength?"

Kurenai whispered to Hinata, so softly into her ear that only the both of them could hear and no one else. "Our dreams... The dreams we had together. He would not have wanted them to die with him. He would have wanted to watch me fulfill them one by one, and the first dream we had was to let Mirai grow with love."

Hinata looked up at her.

"And you... while you only used to have one sun, he made sure to leave you with two," Kurenai smiled at her.

The younger woman looked at Himawari and Boruto, before letting out a faint laugh and shaking her head.

"And he made sure their eyes reminded me of his," Hinata said. "Can you see how, between him and I, this is so unfair to me?"

Kurenai chuckled, her face also wet with tears.

Boruto darted from his seat, running away from the crowd the moment he could no longer avoid looking at the casket. Just as he was about to step out of the platform that had been set up for the funeral, someone held him firmly on the arm.

"Let me go," Bolt said to the man standing beside him, low enough so no one else could hear.

Sasuke did not respond. They were standing side by side but facing opposite directions. Sasuke was facing toward the crowd, while Boruto was facing out. The younger man groaned.

"You don't always have to interfere, or look after me, or..." Bolt paused, his anger boiling inside him. "I can't stand it here," his voice trembled. "Please, just let me go."

Sasuke, again, did not say anything.

Bolt did not like this. He felt like he was being treated like a child. But he knew this wasn't the time to be angry.

"This is pointless and it is unbearable, I just want to grieve alone," he continued, pulling himself away from Sasuke's grip, but to no avail. "Won't you even say anything?!" he asked, when his mentor did not show any sign of letting him loose.

"There's nothing I can say because everything you said is true," Sasuke finally spoke. Bolt remained hushed and stunned at his response. "It is true I don't have to interfere, and maybe I shouldn't. It's true this whole thing is pointless and unbearable-"

"Then why won't you just let me go?" Boruto asked.

"Because I want you to know you don't have to grieve alone," Sasuke gripped Bolt's arm even tighter.

Boruto did not understand it. He couldn't think of anything that would help lessen the pain. Surely grieving alone wouldn't, but he didn't see the point of doing it with someone else either. Why would Sasuke even insist –

Before Bolt could ask himself the question, he could see Sasuke wince in pain. The blonde lad looked down to the arm holding him tightly. It was his mentor's only and gravely injured arm. He heard he had broken it really badly that he almost lost it too. Bolt released the tension and Sasuke relaxed.

"I'm sorry," Boruto muttered under his breath, his voice carrying unbearable regret.

"You shouldn't be," Sasuke replied. "I was the one who couldn't save your father."

Before Boruto could respond, Sasuke had already walked away.

When Shikamaru walked toward the casket, along with an Anbu, to open it, Boruto forced himself to look. "Might as well just get it over with."

They first cleared the flowers from its lid before carefully opening it. Bolt spared it a quick glance but that was it. He would rather see him in photos, alive and smiling, than in person, dead.

From the corner of his eye he could barely see him — blonde hair, the marks on his cheek, and a dark-colored kimono he knew was a gift from his mom. Boruto could not stand it, feeling another sudden urge to leave.

He fixed his eyes on the flowers lying near his foot instead, and began slowly kicking them back and forth. The moment he heard someone start speaking, in honor of his father, he completely and intentionally tuned it all out.

He was amazed by how well he was able to focus on other trivial things, like the sound of the birds from the nearby garden, the smell of dirt mixed with the smell of flowers, the texture of his clothes against his own skin, and the occasional gentle breeze brushing against his face. Only a few words slipped through the imaginary wall he had built between him and the speaker — words like hero, inspiration, and dreams... the dream to become Hokage, the dream to save the world, the dream to bring peace to all nations.

Bolt shut all of it out again. He knew about all of them, heard them in the academy, read them in books, heard them from his friends and his family, and eventually... he saw it with his very own eyes — the kind of savior people had always claimed his father to be.

Boruto already knew, and he did not have to know more.

When Shikamaru finished speaking, he called for Sasuke and Sakura.

There was a long silence that lingered, which was heart wrenching and uncomfortable and sad, all at the same time.

They were prepared... sort of. Shikamaru had, after all, informed them ahead of time. But there was something in having to walk up there — to say things they silently wished they had told him earlier, things he would never hear now — that was so difficult.

Sakura waited for Sasuke to move, his head drooping and his eyes staring blankly on the ground ahead of them. When he didn't, she went ahead.

Sakura chose to speak of the happiest things she could remember, the small but enjoyable moments she'd had with Naruto — the laughter, the horseplay, their pranks and antics, most of which were in their missions as Team Seven. These were the things most people didn't know about, that in between more serious missions and conflict, there had been mostly just fun. That in between training, they spent most of the time teasing, joking around, and playing like kids. By the middle of it, she found herself snickering a little, grinning ear-to-ear at each memory, the crowd laughing with her. But by the time she decided her turn was finished, her voice was cracking and her eyes had already become clouded with tears.

It was during this time that Sasuke decided to step forward. Sakura hastily handed him the microphone, before quickly disappearing into the crowd. Sasuke took a deep breath, avoiding all the stares — everyone's eyes were on him, he was sure, wondering what he had to say about the person who desperately fought to bring him back.

He had a lot in mind, that was for sure, but those words weren't meant for the people who barely knew about the bond they had shared. They were only meant for him, and since he was no longer there to hear it, what was the point?

Before he could stop himself, he began to say what was really in his mind all this time.

"I just regret... and always will... that I never thanked him enough."

When Boruto's name was called, it didn't even register to him at first. He must have dozed off with his eyes open; he couldn't figure out how long it had been.

He was staring at Shikamaru, wondering why he had to go in front, before vaguely remembering how he had been asked to say something about his father yesterday.

Bolt remembered he did agree to do it. He sighed heavily and let his feet take him to the front without any second thought.

"I... haven't really thought about what to say," he started, knowing he had no choice but to be honest. "When I was asked to do this, I guess my mind was wandering off... I'm sorry."

His eyes accidentally landed to where his mom was sitting. He found the courage to go on.

He talked about the kind of father the Hokage had been when Boruto was still a child—the type who only scolded him with his eyes, and spoke only when the both of them were ready to listen to each other. The Hokage was the type of father who made sure little Himawari also knew how to share her toys with her older brother, the type who made sure little Boruto understood his friends at a very young age, instead of fighting with them.

He figured these were the things the people didn't know about his dad.

He didn't know how long he had been rambling, but with every memory he shared, the burden of the loss seemed to slowly dissipate. These were the memories he no longer wanted to keep only to himself. Soon, and he never it thought it was possible — the anger he had was turned into joy and hope, even if only temporarily.

When Hinata was called, she gladly stood and waved at Himawari to come with her. Hima dashed before stopping midway, picking up two yellow roses from the floor. With a smile, Hima handed one over to Hinata.

"I don't have many more to say, they've said it all," Hinata laughed a little, nodding toward Sakura and Boruto. "It was sudden, and tragic, but I always remind myself... He died doing what he had always dreamed of — he left as the Hokage protecting his people. I am sure he was... happy."

She paused for a while before continuing. "If there was anything I've learned this afternoon, it's this — there will be regrets, there will be anger... But they're nothing compared to the joy and hope he had left behind.

"I felt so much loss, and it hurt so much, but I'm trying my best to think about the years we'd spent together. Then the gratefulness I have easily replaces everything else," Hinata continued.

"I would like to thank each one of you for coming. I may not be able to personally express my gratitude to everyone, but all of you made a difference to how bearable this becomes for my family," Hinata said, looking to the far end of the crowd. "I am going to be honest, going here wasn't easy. I almost decided against it. But now I am thankful I came."

Hinata bowed her head once, deciding her turn to speak was over. Slowly, several people stood from their seats to approach the family and express their condolences.

When Himawari saw that no one else was looking, she pulled from her mother's grip and carefully walked over to the casket. She lifted her father's hand and squeezed it once, before placing the yellow rose she had been holding in his hand.

Say hello to grandma, grandpa, and Uncle Neji for me. 'Til next time, Dad.

It had been an hour since the casket was lowered to the ground, and the rain had already soaked the entire area.

With everyone drenched, they already left, except for two.

Hinata and Sasuke sat silently on a bench, which stood just a few feet from where the tomb would be.

Sasuke wasn't sure from whom he'd heard it, but he somehow previously learned Hinata loved the sunset, that was why he didn't say anything until the sun had fully gone down.

"It's getting dark already," he spoke.

Hinata looked up the sky, "Yeah, I didn't really notice," she sighed. "So I guess we have to go?"

"Yeah," Sasuke answered before the both of them turned to leave.

"We go opposite ways though," Hinata pointed out. Sasuke looked at her.

"Hn, yeah," Sasuke looked at the direction to which he would be heading off. Before any of them moved, he and Hinata spoke at the same time, cutting each other's sentences off.

"Sasuke — "

"If there's anything — yes?" Sasuke paused when heard Hinata mention his name. "What is it?"

"Just... I think I need to say this," Hinata continued, her tone filled with so much hesitation. "I feel like I'm not the appropriate person for this, but I know it's something he will definitely tell you if he was here," she said, avoiding Sasuke's gaze.

"It's okay," Sasuke assured her. "Tell me."

"Never blame yourself," Hinata said. Sasuke just stared, surprised, before nodding.

"Hm," he considered what she said, not knowing how to respond. "Hinata, if there's any assistance your family needs, do not hesitate."

"Yes, thank you, Sasuke," she said, smiling, before leaving toward the direction of her home.

Sasuke, however, soon caught up with her. He motioned for her to continue when she stopped walking in surprise.

"Let me walk you home, too. It has gotten really dark already."

Hinata thanked him, and they walked together in silence.

AN: Again, really sorry for two things, (1) taking a long time to update, (2) and that this one's another flashback. I suck at sentimental scenes so I hope the people who asked for this chapter are at least satisfied with it. Please excuse my current weaknesses.

If you have constructive criticisms or comments for the main storyline, please feel free to write a review or send a PM. My current writer's block is horrible and so counter-productive.

Okay, I'll stop whining now. Thanks for reading and 'til the next! :)

Poem credit: typewriterpoetry . wordpress . com; billimarie; sept. 17th 2011.