A/N: Whoops, totally blanked and forgot it was Thursday… ;;; Anyway, this is just a brief interlude to bridge the one-month gap between 46 and 47 (yes, I cut off in the middle of their conversation; use your imaginations ;D).
-o-
I can't do this.
That's all I know. It's the only thing that reverberates inside me with absolute certainty, the only conviction in my life just at the moment. The only thing I know without any doubt, and it doesn't have anything to do with Gaara.
Why is that so wrong?
It's not. It's not, it shouldn't be—but it is. Inside my head, it is.
I didn't have time to break down.
I had to keep the rest of us alive. You know this. You know it. I had to tell that lie, had to pretend it was ok, had to keep us moving. It was my only chance to lose control over the loss of someone I cared about, and I blew it. Wanna know why?
'Cause I'm a ninja. Because I had to keep us going. Because… because…
Because he wasn't Gaara.
I cried. Oh, I did—and I didn't know what else to do, either. Didn't know what to say. Couldn't save him.
But I didn't ever break down. That moment was lost in the overpowering need for survival, and a day—a week—a month later, when I had time to lose it… I couldn't. The moment was gone.
I kept looking for it. I did. I stumbled through my days and prayed for the right place to let down my guard, let go of my shadows, let fall my tears.
It never came again.
Shinobi aren't allowed to cry.
Shinobi aren't allowed to lose control.
And shinobi aren't allowed to have doubts.
