A super duper HUGE thank you to Cimadreamer and Zel for editing this chapter! What a mess it would have been otherwise... And a resounding thank you to every guest and user that has left a review on this story - you guys are amazing and I love seeing everybody's reactions and responses!
A/N: To switch gears for a moment, I've gotten an alarming amount of messages about the book FROM BLOOD AND ASH. I had never heard of this book prior to receiving messages about it. As you kind readers have pointed out, I first published this story in October of 2016 and that book came out last year - that's a sizable gap. Obviously I didn't invent forbidden period romances with class disparities; these are popular tropes. For anyone that doesn't know the history of this story, I was taking prompts for my anthology series, Reflective, when it came about. An FF user, Meemy-Chan - who I will forever be indebted to, because holy crap look at where we are now - submitted a prompt for the fourth installment of Reflective. It went like so:
Hey I just got an idea about the next prompt of REFLECTIVE. How about some forbidden romance between princess Sakura and her bodyguard Sasuke? They both love each other. But Sasuke is the most hesitant one because of their status and Sakura can't take it anymore and decides to confront him and it ends with a hot scene. I really want to read something like this. Well tell me what you think about the plot okay?
For anyone who has read the oneshot that started this whole thing, you'll recognize that it went pretty much exactly like that. And for anyone who has read the previous thirty chapters of this story, you'll recognize that it has become so much more. And it's STILL going. I messaged Meemy-Chan as soon as I started writing the oneshot to tell her that the story had gotten away from me and that I was planning an additional two chapters to close it out (oh, to be that naive again). In this case, I had planned out almost the entire course of this story before I had even completed the oneshot. Yet, there's not much to be said about a book that's already completed AND published.
Writing will always be influenced by print and media whether we're conscious of it or not. However, I greatly appreciate everyone that has come forward to tell me about these similarities and to raise their concerns. For now, I'm willing to chock it up to coincidence, but if anyone feels like there are elements, sentences, plot points, etc that are specific and might have been directly lifted from my story, feel free to let me know. Again, I really do appreciate it.
Thank you all for your time :)
"Sakura."
Her vision swam and blurred. A sharp tug at her wrist caused her to falter back.
"Sakura, come with me."
She turned her head, dizzied and disoriented. Hinata was staring her down with a determined gaze, a ferocity burning within her that Sakura had never seen before. She looked over, something gnawing at the back of her mind, and saw Naruto accosted by nurses.
"Sakura," she forced her eyes away as Hinata nudged her again, "Come with me."
Limply, Sakura nodded and followed Hinata as though she were being led by some invisible thread out of the grand hall and into the cool night. But Hinata did not stop there: she stormed across the empty grounds - every guard having been called to the Emperor's side - and headed straight for Sakura's quarters. She threw the doors open and ushered Sakura inside, taking care to bolt the locks so that no one could disturb them.
Sakura stood rigid in the middle of her sitting room, staring at some inert object atop her mantle, but not truly seeing it.
Hinata invaded her field of view; a look of shocked horror turned to stunned silence, which turned to resolved sorrow.
"Are you," Hinata stopped herself as her eyes welled with tears. She could not ask Sakura such a question; of course she was not. How could she be? After all -
"Naruto-san," her voice was raspy and broken, as though she had been yelling at the top of her lungs, but those were the first words she had spoken since the commotion in the hall, "You should be with him right now."
"No, no, he is fine," Hinata said adamantly, wiping away her tears before they could fall. She stepped closer to Sakura, "I need to be with you. I - I," she exhaled unsteadily, trying to gather what strength she could, not just for herself, but for Sakura as well. With quivering fingers, Hinata clasped her friend's hands in hers, "Sakura-chan, I am so sorry."
Sakura shook her head fervently.
"You should be with Naruto-san," she said again and sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. She bit down harshly to quell the tremor that crept up her spine and tasted blood.
"No," Hinata protested staunchly, "Naruto-kun is with the nurses. They will care for him. Sakura-chan," her mouth dropped open, at a loss for what to say, at a loss for what to do, at a loss for. . . anything, "I am so sorry."
"I should not," Sakura bowed her head, staring blankly at their clenched hands, "I should not have told you such a thing. I am sorry for burdening you with it. It is only - a silly," she choked on a breath as though she were attempting to force a flippant laugh. Her fingers twitched and her chest shuddered, "It is only a silly thing. I did not mean," she raised her eyes to meet Hinata's, "I did not mean to make you worry so."
"Sakura-chan," Hinata said softly, causing Sakura to draw her hands back.
There it was. In her eyes, in the frown on her face, in the tone of her voice.
Pity. She could not take that. If she did. . . Well, that would make it true.
"You should go to Naruto-san," Sakura forced a measured calm into her words, "He will need you at his side while he recovers. And I should return to my mother. I am certain she will require my company," as if to reinforce her statement, Sakura nodded resolutely, "Yes, this is most distressing. We must prepare the palace and ensure that we are safe. I suppose this will cause a delay in my engagement, but it is no matter. We can not allow the war to reach these walls."
Hinata watched her friend carefully; she could see the steady retreat into the back of Sakura's mind, the contention in her rigid posture, the vacancy that began to consume the depths of her eyes. The pretense of Sakura's reaction was sorely apparent to Hinata, but she did not have it in her heart to press the matter.
It would be too cruel. And Sakura had already suffered so much.
"Very well," Hinata bowed stiffly, "Shall I send for your mother?"
"No!" Sakura said, too hastily. She attempted to compose herself, swallowing thickly and quieting her voice, "No, thank you. I will go to her," She turned swiftly, glancing towards the window and at the empty dark that filled it. Her fingers grasped at the skirt of her dress and fisted the delicate material tightly in her hands, "Will you tell Naruto-san," Her eyes fell back to Hinata who looked at her expectantly. Sakura's lips parted, quivering, "N-Never mind. Thank you, Hinata-chan."
With a solemn nod, Hinata departed Sakura's rooms and shut the doors behind her.
Sakura clasped her hands over her heart and fell to her knees. Her chest heaved as she tried to inhale, but no amount of air was enough. Frantically, she tore at the ties of her coat, ripping them up by the threads.
"Kami," she gulped harshly, prying the fabric off her shoulders, away from her neck; her throat tightened. She flung her coat to the other side of the room and fumbled with the buttons of the next layer to her jūnihitoe, "Kami, please. It can not be," she shook her head and doubled over, "Please. Kami," her fingers splayed on the cold floor to steady herself, "Not him - it can not be."
Completely alone, surrounded only by the impossibility of the truth, Sakura screamed.
Lee tore out of the grand hall and out into the gardens, his breathing heavy and his mind whirling. His stomach roiled with fear, anxiety, and. . . guilt.
No, no. He was only doing what any man would have done. He could not have known that the Uzumaki would go to war. He could not have known that the Uzumaki might. . .
He could not -
Lee took a gasping inhale and caught the scent of the lake beside him as it was carried on the crisp air. They were approaching winter - a time for fallen leaves and frozen branches, for the color to drain from the world and for nothing but white to replace it, for the lonely chill of a snowy morning. . .
It was a time for dead things.
But it was not his fault. He could not have known -
Lee had not seen Sakura's face, but he did not wish to imagine it.
A pair of whispering courtiers passed him, bowing in his direction as they hurried to their rooms. Lee could barely manage a slight bend in his knees before he wobbled and had to sit down. He dropped his head between his legs, clasping his hands at the base of his neck and swore viciously.
How could he -
He did not mean to cause her pain - a pain like this. He could only imagine - No. He could not imagine the agony she must be feeling. The agony that he. . . that he caused her.
How could he have done such a thing?
"Naruto-kun?" Hinata pulled the curtain surrounding his bed back and gasped. Her eyes prickled with fresh tears as she took in Naruto's state; the bloody bandages and newly stitched lacerations that littered his form. But his eyes, swollen and red, still shined when he looked at her. Beside him, Kakashi stood unsteadily. A bandage had been wrapped beneath his chin and tied atop his head to keep his jaw set, rendering him unable to speak comfortably, so he merely bowed to Hinata and took his leave.
She nodded gratefully in his direction, but could not tear her gaze away from the man on the bed for long. The scrape of the metal rung as Kakashi pulled the curtain closed was the only indication of their privacy, but around them, there was still the bustle of busied nurses tending to the other soldiers. Hinata stepped forward and lowered herself into the chair feebly.
"Naruto-kun," she whispered as she began to weep. He managed to raise his good arm and took up one of her hands, enclosing it in his.
"Hinata-chan," he said, smiling as though there were not a single affliction ailing him, "Marry me. Please."
"N-Naruto-kun," her cheeks turned red within the span of a sharp inhale and her fingers tightened around his, "W-What do you mean? You should not say such a t-thing. That is not - Y-You are not well. Rest, please."
"No, I have waited long enough. I - ,"
"You are unwell," she insisted, shaking her head and dropping her gaze so that she would not have to face him, "Do not be so f-foolish."
"I have been foolish, but not anymore - ,"
"Naruto-kun - ,"
"It was not supposed to be this way," his blue eyes brimmed with tears as he clutched her hand, "Sasuke was - He was supposed to-to help me."
"H-Help you - ,"
"Yes. To do this - To ask you," Naruto released her, lifting his fingers to nudge her chin up until her gaze was locked with his, "To marry me. Please."
"N-Naruto-kun," she felt a tear streaking down her cheek, colliding with his thumb, "I am so sorry," she reached up to cover his hand with both of hers.
His expression fell.
"You - You do not want to?"
"W-What?" She balked, "No, no - I mean, yes, of course - No, I just - Naruto-kun, I-I am," she swallowed thickly, another tear coming as she tightened her hold on him, "I am so sorry. . . For the loss of your brother. For Sasuke-san's," any other word she might have uttered faded quickly as she was reminded not only of Naruto's grief, but now Sakura's as well.
"I did not want to leave him," Naruto tried to shake his head, but could barely manage to shift it towards her. He had received the best care that the palace could offer him, but for all they could do to abate the physical pain, it was nothing compared to the raw agony consuming him from the inside. His voice wavered, his strength having long since departed him, "I should not have left him there - to die."
Hinata lowered his hand back to the gurney, taking care to keep it secure within hers, and leaned forward to press her lips against his wet cheek. She could not reconcile the relief of having him return to her with the sorrow he was feeling, but she could not contain herself when she whispered,
"I am so grateful that you are safe now," she trembled against him, her mouth searing her touch into his skin, "I a-am so sorry, Naruto-kun."
He closed his eyes, wishing that he could reach for her with his other hand to take her in his arms, but reveling in her comfort nonetheless.
"He should be here," Naruto said bitterly, the bubble in his throat bursting. He sobbed and squeezed her hand tightly, "He s-should b-be here."
Hinata drew her chair closer and rested her head beside his on the pillow. She held tight to him as he cried and settled in for a long night.
On the other side of the curtain, Kakashi swallowed a breath, his hands shaking as he lowered himself onto his bed. He bowed his head, his chest swelling with sorrow, as a tear slipped down his gaunt face. He cupped his hands over his mouth and suppressed a violent sob.
"You understand that this means our agreement is void, yes?" Gaara sat rigidly across from Kizashi in his office. Delegates from either side surrounded them, observing the terse exchange silently; there was nothing for them to advise on, the deal was done.
"I understand," Kizashi nodded curtly.
"You promised me a victory and so I gave you an army to attain it," Gaara said coldly, "You promised me a wife to unite our empires, our families, and yet here I sit with no army and a woman whose name loses its worth as with each second that passes."
"Take care how you speak of my daughter," Kizashi said through gritted teeth, "This war may have pushed us to the brink of our resources, but as I still sit on this throne, as I still hold this title, it is not yet lost."
"Do your soldiers know that?" Gaara asked pointedly and rose from his chair, "I must return home now, to protect my own family against what is coming. We will depart before the end of the week. I trust we will retain your hospitality until then?"
"Whatever you require," Kizashi replied passively with a wave of his hand. He did not deign to stand as Gaara bowed before him and departed. Kizashi clenched his fist as the last of Gaara's envoys left and the door closed behind them.
"Insolent - ,"
"How did it go?" Mebuki asked as she entered from the side door that connected to his sitting room. Kizashi signaled for his emissaries to leave and waited until he and Mebuki were alone to speak.
"He will be gone before the week is out."
Mebuki crossed her arms over her chest, fingers digging into the sleeves of her kimono.
"What are we to do?" Kizashi sighed heavily in response, so Mebuki continued, "We can not stay here. It is not safe for us, for her."
"Where else would you have us go?" He questioned irritably, but softened when he saw the fear in her gaze. Mebuki was not often one to succumb to her emotions, to not only feel fear or anger or sorrow, but to leave it open for the world to see as well. Though Kizashi had never given her reason to hide such things, least of all from him, they had come from starkly different families with exceedingly different upbringings. Born to be an Emperor's wife, she was raised to present herself as such, to be seen only and heard exclusively when it was required of her. To give her opinion only when it was asked and to support her husband in all endeavors. And yet, that same upbringing had never been able to stop her from disagreeing with her husband on more than one occasion. But Kizashi understood that he, and he alone, had brought that out in her and he loved her all the more for it. He had never wanted an obedient wife, a statue to remain unmoving at his side. He needed a partner, a friend, a confidante. Kizashi approached her with measured steps, taking her in his arms carefully. She rested her head against his chest and waited for the inevitability that she knew was coming, "I feel certain that this is not what you want to hear, but we hardly have a choice now, do we?"
"I would sooner send her to the mountains to spend the rest of her days as a spinster amongst the monks," Mebuki spat vehemently.
"Come now, darling," Kizashi attempted a tone of reason, but even his mood had become soured by the prospects they now faced, "That is hardly a life for her."
"We know so little of this man," Mebuki shook her head forlornly, "Only that he usurped the Uzumakis in his quest for power."
"And we know that he has been successful in this war where we have not," Kizashi argued gently, "Our allies are few and far between these days. We can not afford to be so discriminatory."
"But we can afford to barter with this man for our daughter's future?" Though her tone was vicious, Kizashi knew that his wife's fury was not directed at him.
"For the future of our empire; our people and her."
Mebuki had long been the voice of reason, but now she did not want to see it, let alone follow it. Rather, it seemed it was Kizashi's turn to lead her towards it, no matter how desperately he wished they did not have to face it.
Hinata had left Naruto's side in the early hours of the morning when the cramp in her neck had awoken her quite suddenly. He appeared to be slumbering peacefully and that gave her enough comfort to take the time to return to her room and change for the first time since the festivities had begun the previous night. But, as she set out for the infirmary once more, she determined that she needed to first make a diversion on her course that rainy morning.
There was no guard outside Sakura's quarters as Hinata approached and she surmised from the vacancy of the grounds that they must have all been called away to the Emperor yet again. She let herself into the sitting room swiftly and was almost immediately bathed in darkness when the doors shut behind her.
Sakura was seated beside the dying fire, a heap of torn cloth from her cloak surrounding her and her robes haphazardly hanging from her shoulders. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and her lips were raw and reddened from the torture of her teeth.
It was clear that Sakura had not left her rooms since Hinata had departed from her the previous night.
"Am I to feel this way forever?" Sakura's voice cracked as she stared at the flickering flame.
"I-I do not know," Hinata was quick to answer, for she knew that nothing she said would change anything about the actuality of the situation.
"What use is this pain if I am never to see him again?" She lifted her gaze to look up at Hinata; there was no use hiding her secrets now, "Is it penance?"
"No," Hinata shook her head; she knew at least that much. Without an invitation, she came to kneel beside Sakura, but kept a careful physical distance between them, "It is only the other side of love."
Sakura shut her eyes as Hinata's words caused fresh tears to spill over.
"Please, Hinata-chan," she sobbed, "You should be with him now. Not me."
"Naruto-kun will be fine," Hinata assured her, lips still parted to continue that thought, but silenced by the realization of what it implied about Sakura; she might never be fine again. Grief was not a thing to be bandaged overnight and left to rest for a dictated amount of time. It was not something to recover from, but rather something that one would have to learn to live with. To embrace it as one would the grace of all good things. To acknowledge its existence as one would their own happiness.
Perhaps Sakura had some knowledge of this, but it was quite different, almost entirely, to grieve for a brother she did not remember and yearn for a love she could not forget.
"There is a part of me," Sakura whispered, peering at Hinata, "A part that believes - or maybe it is hope," she raised her hands, fingers grasping the air in futility, then seemed to lose the thought. It dissipated between them, "When Naruto-san is well, I will visit him and. . ."
"He does not need to know," Hinata suggested, "Not about any of it. But if you could know - m-maybe some of what h-happened. . ."
Sakura nodded, pensive as she considered her impulses against her morality.
"I do not wish to upset him so soon. . . Not after," she shuddered and fell quiet, but Hinata reached for Sakura's fingers, grasping them softly.
"But if you did meet with him," she stroked her thumbs across the backs of Sakura's hands soothingly, "It m-might offer you some-some - something."
Hinata's shoulders drooped as she realized she could provide Sakura with nothing else. Nothing but another futile apology.
"I should not," Sakura shook her head as she fought against her tears, "I should not disturb him in such a way. He is already - He has already suffered so much," her voice broke as she put her head on Hinata's shoulder, "I do not wish to cause him any more pain."
Hinata held her tightly as the silence between them gave way to the rain that poured around them. It was not so difficult for Hinata to imagine what it would be like were their roles reversed; if Sakura were the one comforting her instead. If Sasuke had been the one to survive and Naruto. . .
"No, not to cause him pain, but, perhaps, to share in it," Hinata said quietly, "I did not have the pleasure of knowing him so well as you both did. T-That is something I can not give Naruto-kun, but - but you can. There may be peace found in that. For both of you. . . Even if you claim to know him as nothing more than a friend."
"But to speak of it," Sakura whispered, "To speak of him, I - I fear it would make it. . . Real."
To that, Hinata had no response. It felt real. It was real. She had seen the reality within Naruto's eyes without him recounting the events to her at all. But for Sakura -
"I know I am fool to think," she broke off and shook her head against Hinata's shoulder, "I wish that I did not have this-this hope. This damned, foolish hope that I might - that I might see him again. That he might be. . ."
"Maybe you are right to hope," Hinata said quietly, "If he comes back - ,"
"Then what?" Sakura spat angrily, ripping herself away to storm towards the window. She pulled back the drapes but could hardly see through the torrent of rain just outside, "Then we might marry? No! I was a fool. I was a fool to think this could ever be. I am a betrothed woman now and the only man I have ever loved is. . . He is. . ."
Still, she could not say the word, so she turned to face Hinata once more.
"I am sorry," she said shamefully, "I did not mean to - It is not you."
"No, do not apologize," Hinata rose steadily, but approached Sakura cautiously, "You are right to feel these things - This sorrow and hope and-and anger; they are all reminders of him. Are they not?"
"I suppose so," Sakura averted her eyes, then asked again, "But am I to feel this way forever? Am I to suffer this agony for as long as I draw breath?" She shook her head forlornly, "He did not even tell me," she looked to Hinata then, as if she might be able to provide her an answer, "Why did he not tell me that he was leaving? That I might never see him again?"
Hinata stiffened as she held Sakura's lost gaze.
"I-I do not know. It is possible he was afraid."
"Of the war?"
"Of you," Hinata stepped closer, reaching a hand out to hold Sakura's, "Of - Of what you might think of him."
Sakura swallowed harshly and squeezed Hinata's fingers. She wished so desperately that that were true, that she could believe it. That it meant he had not left her alone and broken her trust so completely in the process.
But she did not know the truth.
All she knew was the imprint of his lips, his love, and now his loss.
Sakura slipped through the doors of the infirmary, but kept her hood up and her head down as she traversed the aisles of beds, peeking every so often to see which one Naruto was in. Finally, she found him, but he was not alone. He was surrounded by soldiers, some in uniforms and others in bandages, so Sakura made to turn away, but he had already spotted her.
"Sakura-san!"
Sakura paused, a placated smile falling into place as she faced him and lowered the hood of her cloak. The soldiers that could, stood and bowed.
"Naruto-san," she tipped her chin in response, "I came to inquire about your wellbeing, but I see that you are engaged - I will return later."
"Nonsense," he insisted and smiled up at her, seemingly grateful for her familiar face. In fact, if not for the rags soiled with blood at his bedside and the wrappings around his wounds, she would never have known from his boisterous tone that he had just returned from battle, "It has been too long since we have seen each other."
The soldiers filed out promptly, leaving them alone, but Sakura pulled the curtain around them for additional privacy before seating herself beside Naruto.
It felt nearly a lifetime since their last encounter. During his residence at the palace, he had been so much more than a simple soldier or apalace guard. While he began his courtship of Hinata, he often entertained Sakura and her ladies while he was posted to them. They had all come to enjoy his company, his unyielding spirit, and his tireless humor. Sakura had even developed a fondness for him during that time as she came to know him more through Hinata's own words.
"Far too long," Sakura agreed after an extended moment of silence. Her mind was awash with burning questions that her heart demanded answers to, so it took everything in her power to ask about his health first, "And how are you faring today?"
"I am all right," Naruto answered with a stiff nod. She could see the effort in his movements, the desire to pull himself up and not succumb to the pain he was most certainly feeling in that moment. It was such a familiar sight to her. . . Too familiar, "I thank you for the concern - I am most lucky to be alive. Although, I suppose," his smile vanished and he lowered his eyes for a brief moment. When he raised them again, Sakura could see the sorrow forming, "It did not have much to do with luck."
Her face fell and she fought to retain some measure of composure, but it was a wasted effort as she found herself having to turn her head slightly to swipe at an errant tear.
"We are relieved - Hinata-chan most of all," her gaze dropped to her hands where she fisted them tightly in her lap.
"I was away for so long," he laughed dryly and shook his head, "I thought maybe she might have forgotten me."
"No," Sakura laughed with him, but it was just as devoid of humor, "She could never. She spoke of you often - always. Never once did I see her faith waver; her devotion to you is most admirable."
Sakura bit her tongue before she could continue. Why could she not have a faith as unshakeable as Hinata's? Why could she not trust that Sasuke might return? Why could she not will him back to her?
Why was her love for him not enough to fuel that flicker of hope?
"It warms my heart to hear such a sentiment," Naruto grinned, a true sliver of light and promise breaking through the anguish that clouded him, "She tells me you have been a comfort to her in my absence."
"Oh," Sakura raised her eyes suddenly, surprised, "I only hope that I have been as much a comfort to her as she has been to me."
"I do not doubt that," Naruto assured her. Sakura tried to manage a smile in response, but she could not stave off her inquiries any longer. Wringing the cloth of her skirt between her fingers, she caught his glassy eyes and spoke softly, "Naruto, I must ask something very difficult of you. I-I am sure you do not wish to recount anything of that night - the night you escaped from the Akatsuki - but I must know - I-I need to know," already the tears were sliding down her cheeks, but she could do nothing to stop them. There was no use trying to hide them now, "That night - that night you escaped, what happened to Sasuke-kun?"
Naruto was taken aback by her question immediately. He had not expected that name to come from her lips, let alone to hear it slide past them so naturally.
And, after all, who would think to ask about his brother?
"Sakura-san, he is the only reason I am still alive. He stayed behind to fight the Akatsuki so that I could have time to escape. All of us," as Naruto spoke, Sakura's quivering hand flew to her mouth to quell a sob, "He told me to run, but I - I did not want to. I should not have left him. If I had stayed, I would be dead as w - I could not have come back to warn your father," his voice was fervent and frantic as he rambled on, "He - He did not let me stay - to fight with him, but I should have - I should have tried harder," Naruto's bright blue eyes shimmered, but he kept his gaze on hers, "Maybe then. . . He would be here. I should have. . . He would be here. With me."
Sakura could not contain herself then; her body shook and she wept. It could not be true, it could not be real. Her breath hitched and her throat constricted; she lost all coherent thought in a cloud of thickening sorrow. She could see nothing beyond it, could not feel a thing through the dense fog, and for a long while there was only the sound of her grief, until, finally, Naruto spoke in awe,
"It is you."
Sakura had neither the clarity nor the strength to comprehend what that meant and so she looked to Naruto for an explanation.
"You are the woman," he repeated, dumbfounded, raising a tremulous, condemning finger towards her, "You are the one he fell in love with."
Sakura's hand dropped from her mouth and she shook her head violently.
"No, no," she blubbered, rubbing the heels of her hands against her cheeks as though she could wipe away every blotch of evidence on her face, "You are mistaken."
"He told me he left a woman behind," Naruto persisted, still holding that accusatory finger in front of her, "He told me he - but he never said her name. He refused to say it. He said you would be betrothed to another," Naruto was astounded, marveling as all the pieces began to fit together, "It was you. The key, the letter - "
"What?" Sakura hiccuped, her chest constricting when she heard those words. The key to her rooms? The letter she had written to him while he slept atop a gurney so very similar to the one she sat before now?
"The key and the letter you gave him," Naruto prompted her, his excitement at such a startling realization giving him the momentary fortitude to sit up and look her squarely in the eyes, as though he were seeing her for the first time, "He always had them with him. He kept them, all the time he was there. I thought - I thought maybe - "
"He took them with him?" The utter disbelief was plain within her voice. Did he really -
"Yes!" Naruto was beaming as he stared at her, a solid moment of pure bliss befell him. This was the woman! This was the woman his brother had spoken of! This was the woman that had captured Sasuke's heart! This was the woman that had managed to wade through that abyssal well of darkness that encompassed Sasuke and - This was the woman. . .
This was the woman whose brother was killed at the hands of Itachi.
No.
Sasuke, no.
Sakura was watching him almost expectantly, and yet Naruto knew he could not give her what she was searching for.
But, there was something else -
Naruto fumbled through the mess of his belongings on his bedside table. He yanked out a drawer with his good hand and pulled out a long ribbon of black silk that had been threaded through the loop of her bedroom key. Sakura reached for it tentatively, like it might dissipate if she touched it. But when her fingers met the cold iron it was a shock to her skin; it was tangible. It was real. She took it from Naruto, clutching it in her hand until the teeth bit into her palm.
"He did not tell me he was leaving," Sakura whispered, her chest hiccuping as she continued to cry, "He simply left - without a word, without so much as a warning."
"He said he had no place with you. That you could never be together because," Naruto swallowed thickly and slumped back against his pillow, defeated, "I see now what he meant."
"To know that he spoke of me - " Sakura bowed her head; she could not continue, her voice trembled so terribly.
"He loved you," Naruto insisted, "Greatly. You must understand - for Sasuke to even mention the existence of a woman - of you - it is not something he would have done lightly."
Sakura nodded solemnly, staring at the key clutched in her shaking hand. She could barely feel it as it sat in her palm, but simply knowing it was there held a weight far greater than anything she could have imagined.
"I have told your father," Naruto's voice faltered for a moment as he attempted to collect himself, "I have told your father what Sasuke did for me; I-I want him to be remembered for the man he was and not - "
Naruto broke off suddenly, a flicker of fear running across his face as he realized he might have spoken too much. Sakura looked up slowly, hesitantly, but there was no going back now.
"I know," she said quietly, "I know his name."
Still, Naruto appeared reticent to say anything further, so she continued.
"I know his heritage," her voice dropped below a whisper until she could scarcely be heard over the other occupants of the infirmary, "I know of his brother - Ita," she broke off abruptly; she could not speak the name. Not in that moment, "I know that he is an Uchiha."
Naruto was stricken as he gaped at her.
"And still you loved him?"
"More than anything," she said without taking a single breath, "More than anyone. And always I will," her words split as another bout of sobs racked her already fragile frame, "I can never love another."
"Sakura-san," her name was heavy on his tongue; not with pity, but with understanding. She could see in the ocean of his bleary eyes how deep his compassion and adoration for Sasuke went, and thus knew the boundless extent of his pain. It came as a startling revelation to her, that, certainly, she was not the only one who felt so profoundly the encroaching grief of Sasuke's absence. And, what's more, that her grief was hardly a fraction of the lifetime that he and Naruto had shared.
She felt her pain, her sorrow, her fear, her anger, her - her hopelessness. But, did their short time together warrant such grief? Did the few years of courtyard stares - that culminated to a series of questions one snowy morning - warrant such fear? Did the few months of conversations beside the window and games to pass the time - that culminated in profound discussions of purpose and promise - warrant such anger? Did the few moments of longing touches and secret kisses - that culminated in a single night of euphoric copulation - warrant such sorrow?
Unable to offer her anything more, Naruto simply repeated, "He loved you."
Sakura nodded and pocketed the key in her cloak. She stood suddenly; the suffocation of their dialogue, their setting, and the very reality that had descended upon them had finally struck her. A measured facade fell into place, but her tears were still apparent.
"Thank you, Naruto-san, for your time. I am sorry to have caused you such distress."
"Sakura-san - ,"
She pulled up her hood and departed before he could utter another word. The world around her was dark and cold, wetted by the incessant rain that seemed as ceaseless as her tears, but she stood immobile in it for a long while.
Being the emperor's daughter, there were many things that she was entitled to by birthright, privileges that others were not awarded. And yet, for the first time in her life, she felt unworthy.
She should not be allowed to feel this pain, this grief, this love. She was not privileged enough to know him - this man who was only a stranger now. This man who had loved her, but did not trust her. This man who had loved her, and then deserted her. This man who she thought she knew, but had barely scratched the surface of.
"Sakura-chan!"
She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard the approach of Lee from behind her.
"Not now, Lee-san," she said quietly, her voice wavering. She was frigid, drenched, and weary. If only she could lay upon her bed and sleep until this forsaken war was over, "Forgive me, but I must be alone."
His footsteps slowed to a soft squelch as he came beside her, hesitant, but unyielding.
"Sakura-chan, I understand, but I-I must tell you something," when she did not answer, he peered down at her and saw her eyes flutter open. Her normally vibrant green orbs were ringed with red and the sight caused his heart to constrict in his chest, "I am sorry, but it is urgent. May I speak with you in your rooms?"
Sakura inhaled deeply, raising her head to look at him. She slipped her fingers into her pocket and tightened them around her key.
"Very well."
They sloshed across the grounds to her sitting room in silence, but barely had she shut the door behind them when Lee fell to his knees. He fisted his hands together above him and bowed his head until she could not see his face.
"Sakura-chan, I am so sorry. I did not mean to cause you any harm, I only thought that - I only acted with your best interests at heart," his fingers shook as he rambled on. Sakura stood a few feet back, watching his thoughts unfold in a stunned silence, "Believe me when I tell you that I did so only to - It was not out of malice or-or subterfuge - I only - I love you and I did not want you to suffer for a man who could never afford you more than pretty words and a broken heart."
"Lee," Sakura swallowed against the lump in her throat. A searing ache split down the center of her forehead as she attempted to keep pace with his disorderly speech, "What are you saying?"
"He was not deserving of your time nor your affections and I feared - I feared he would only take advantage of your - of your," he paused as though the word caused him a physical malady to speak aloud, "L-Love."
Sakura was frozen for a long moment, her already addled mind being forced to confront yet another inconceivable notion now.
"I-I do not understand. . . Are you - ,"
"I am so sorry," he said again, quieter this time, "Please forgive me. I did not mean to cause you any pain. I only wanted you to be happy and he could not have made you so," his arms lowered slightly, but still he would not look at her, "If not me, then somebody else surely, but not him - he was only a lowly guard, incapable of - ,"
"What did you do?" Sakura's voice was cold enough to send a shiver up his spine. He dropped his fists into his lap and looked up at her reluctantly. She stood before him, rigid and unblinking, hair tangled and wet, her robes hanging from her like an anchor. Anger roiled within her - anger at Sasuke, anger at the war, anger at whatever crime Lee had committed in her name - brewing a storm that was ready to touch down and decimate whatever lay in its path.
"I-I bade him to leave you be, to remove himself from his post as your guard. The things I saw, Sakura-chan - the way he touched you - ,"
"You watched us?!" She recoiled with sharp gasp, no longer concerned with denying his words, only with the fury she was ready to unleash.
"I did not mean to! I saw you coming back - back from the forest one night with him - And then I could not help myself - I had to know what - what he," Lee shrank back as he watched the flurry of emotions cross her face, "I only wanted him to leave you alone, to cease his ridiculous pursuits, I - I did not think he w-would go - ,"
"When did you tell him this?" Sakura's hands balled into fists, her voice raising sharply, "When did you say these things to him?!"
"Months ago. Sometime b-before spring," he answered quickly, holding his palms out to her, "It was just at the end of winter."
"Did you tell him to leave for the war?"
"No! No!" Lee protested, shooting to his feet, "I swear it!"
Sakura turned on her heel and clasped one hand over her lips; the other went to her chest.
"For so long I thought," her voice fractured and the lump in her throat swelled, "I thought he did not - But you," she whirled about sharply, shoving an accusing finger in his face, "You forced him away from me!"
"I only meant to - ,"
"How could you?!"
"I wanted to protect you!"
"Oh yes!" Sakura threw her arms up in exasperation and her cheeks flared pink as she bellowed, "Heavens forbid I do one thing - just one of my own free will! Kami, curse me if I make a single mistake myself!" her brows furrowed, her lips trembled, and her entire visage crumbled. Her voice was nearly silenced as she whispered, "He was all I had."
Sakura bowed her head and cried.
Lee was stricken at such a sight. How could this fierce woman, this future ruler, this pillar of poise and perfection, come undone so completely? She shook her head fervently, unable to take hold of any one thing to steady herself as she was sent spiraling into her sorrow.
"He was the only thing I had that was truly mine," she could not even see Lee clearly through the tears, but, vaguely, she could make out his figure approaching her; she did not move to stop him, "He was mine and mine alone - and he - he loved me."
Lee caught her just as her knees gave out and she collapsed under the weight of the day. For so long, Lee had imagined how it might feel to hold her this close, to be able to touch her silken hair and cradle her against him in such a way.
But she was cold and damp in his arms, her hair soggy and knotted beneath his fingers. He had never seen her so broken. So lost, so beaten - so utterly broken. It was as though he had just ripped away the last sliver of her being, leaving only the shell of who she used to be.
Sakura grasped his shoulder, her face in his chest, as they sank to the floor and she wailed.
He had never heard such a raw, emphatic, cry of anguish before in his life and it nearly broke his heart.
"I am so sorry," he whispered to her, "I did not mean for this to happen," her cries nearly drowned him out as he said, "I only wanted to protect you."
Kizashi stepped away from the broad stone mantle of the fireplace and turned to face Mebuki. She had still not changed from her formal day robes to her evening wear, her attention having been taken entirely by the letter held within her trembling hands.
"So, he has accepted," she drew in a shuddering breath through pursed lips and folded the parchment with a greater care than she would have liked.
"Yes."
"You are aware he has aske - demanded that we travel to Konoha?"
"I have begun the preparations," Kizashi clasped his hands behind his back, but otherwise was unflinching beneath his wife's scrutiny.
"Have you?" She asked pointedly.
"The courtiers will be welcome to travel with us, just as if we were making the journey to the winter palace, but I will not permit anyone to remain here," he stepped towards her steadily, "Not until we have secured our safety and the empire's future."
"And Sakura?"
"I have not told her yet," he bowed his head shamefully, but, to his surprise, Mebuki responded,
"Good. I will tell her tomorrow," she stood slowly and bridged the distance between them. With a sure hold, she took her husband in her arms, inviting him, for as long as he could, to let her shoulder some of the weight he bore upon his soul that eve, "Let us give her one more night's rest."
"Indeed," Kizashi sighed heavily and pulled Mebuki as close as he could manage. There was enough uncertainty about the future, about the state of their world, about the choices they had left, that he needed just a moment, a fraction of a second, of something certain.
And there she was; his certainty, his foundation, his beacon.
"There is nothing more to be done," Mebuki said softly, "There is no path we have not traversed, no course of action you have left unexplored. You did your best, darling," she sighed heavily, "Now, it is the time for sacrifice."
Sakura knelt beside her bed and pulled out her brother's scabbard. As she unsheathed the sword, it gleamed in the candlelight, catching the briefest reflection of her sullen features. Outside, thunder rolled in the distance and flashes of lightning lit up the night sky. Outside, she would not have to face her own reflection. Outside, her sorrow could be her own.
But even that freedom had been taken from her now.
If Lee had been able to catch onto hers and Sasuke's late night activities, then it was not safe for Sakura to go out alone now. Most especially with the threat of the Akatsuki looming ever closer.
Her knuckles turned white as she furiously tightened them around the hilt; what else would be taken from her? What else could be?
There was nothing she had left.
Nothing to barter.
Nothing to covet.
Nothing to keep.
"Naruto-kun, how are you feeling?" Hinata took her seat beside his bed, dispersing the other soldiers.
"Better with each morning that I see your face," he reached for her hand, clasping it in his, and delighted in watching the color grace her cheeks. Her eyes darted around them to ensure his sentiment had not been overheard, but could not help the smile that spread across her lips.
And yet, he did not smile in turn. Instead, he drew her fingers towards him and spread them over his chest. His eyes found hers earnestly and he said quietly,
"There is something I have kept from you. For too long. And I - I hope you will forgive me for it."
Hinata's heart thumped rapidly and she twisted the material of his tunic in her hand.
"What is it?"
"Sasuke," he fought against the tightening of his throat. This was not something he could continue to hide from her, from his future wife; it was not right. And - and if Sasuke did not return. If Sasuke was truly. . . "He was not my brother - not by birth. He was my friend first. We grew up together. His family would travel to Konoha often, but that was until - until the Emperor," Hinata sat in rapt silence as Naruto took a shaky breath, "The implications if I tell you this - I do not wish to make you complicit - it is only that I feel I must share this with you if, indeed, we are to marry. That is, if you still want to, once you know the truth."
"Naruto-kun, o-of course I will still marry you," though she had spoken those words before, it did not stall the heat blooming across her face. It was still such a novelty to her, but the flutter in her stomach and the warmth in her heart made her pray that she would never become accustomed to the idea. That she might feel this way about such a prospect for the rest of her life.
Despite her words, Naruto hesitated before he spoke again, and when he did, his voice was barely above a whisper.
"He is an Uchiha, Hinata-chan," Naruto could feel the tears pricking his eyes once more, just from that admission alone and all of its implications. It was not only the fear of the uncertainty of Sasuke's fate, but also the sorrow of what was almost certainly his demise, "When his family fell, we took him in and fled Konoha. We were already preparing to leave because of the Hokage, but his brother, Itachi - ,"
"Itachi?" Hinata had to clasp a hand over her mouth, frightened that she might have spoken the name too loud.
With a slight nod, Naruto confirmed that she had heard him correctly. She stiffened in her seat, desperate and eager to hear more of his story, but completely winded by the epiphany of what this revelation meant.
Sakura-chan.
"Itachi warned of another threat, an insurgent group that we know now as the Akatsuki. The village did not believe him and so he tried to leave with Sasuke, but - but," Naruto stopped himself. There was only so much of that night that he could recount, only so much that he could take, before it consumed him.
"Naruto-kun, if the emperor knew - ,"
"He must not," Naruto shook his head, "No can know, not even now."
"O-Of course, but," Hinata chewed her lip pensively. Sakura could not have known. . . Could she?
"What?"
She parted her lips to speak, but then bit her tongue; that was not her secret to share.
"N-Nothing," she leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek, stalling his tears, "I am so sorry, Naruto-kun."
Mebuki had not seen her daughter for days. Sakura had shuttered herself away in the weeks since Gaara's departure and her ladies had been sent away, all but Hinata who seemed the only one able to keep her any company.
As Mebuki entered her daughter's abysmal sitting room, the curtains drawn nearly closed and only the fire to light the massive space, she spotted Sakura atop her dais, a glazed look in her eyes as she fell deeper into her thoughts. She did not even flinch as Mebuki shut the doors behind her.
"Darling?"
"Yes, mother?" Sakura's voice was abrasive, roughened by her relentless anguish.
"Darling, you look horrid," Mebuki was positively aghast as Sakura turned to face her, "What is it that plagues you? An illness?"
A tear slipped down Sakura's cheek, but she did not have the strength to stop them anymore. Mebuki rushed forward, dropping to her knees before the throne. She took Sakura's hands in hers, resting them in her daughter's lap.
"What is it? What is the matter?"
"I can not sleep," she croaked, "I can not think. There is a weight - a weight on my chest. . . And my heart," she squeezed her mother's fingers as her reddened eyes grew wet with fresh tears, "My heart is. . ."
"What?" Mebuki prodded her, but Sakura averted her gaze and shook her head.
"I can not - ,"
She fell silent and Mebuki cursed whatever cruel fate had brought them here. It was not supposed to be like this. The misfortune that had befallen their family so many years ago had spread like a plague and now they were left in the wake of it all. Her son slain, her daughter bartered, her husband reduced to a beggar to salvage the little bit of power they still possessed.
"Darling, I am so sorry," Mebuki bowed her head into the skirt of Sakura's robes, hiding her shame, "You were never meant to bear such burdens alone. What you have done and what we must ask of you now is more than any one woman should have to endure. And I would never require such a thing of you if I believed there were any way to spare you from it, but it is our only choice now," she felt Sakura go rigid, bracing for whatever it was Mebuki was about to tell her, "I love you, you must know that. I promised to protect you no matter what - especially after Seiichi," her voice broke and she shook against her daughter, "But there are things in this world that even I cannot keep you from. And I am so sorry for that."
"Mother," Sakura's voice trembled as she peered down at Mebuki; she did not know what to think. Here, her mother knelt at her feet in a reverential display of humility so unlike that of her regal status.
"Sakura, I would never ask anything of you if it were not absolutely necessary," she tightened her hold on her daughter's hand, "I fear that if we do not act now, our Empire will crumble and we will be forced into hiding," she finally lifted her eyes to meet Sakura's, "Or worse."
"What?" Sakura asked, "What is it?"
"The Hokage has agreed to help us fight the Akatsuki. As yet, there has not been a more formidable army to stand against them and through his power, he has managed to keep Konoha safe all these years. Thus, he has promised us a legion of soldiers at your father's command and protection for us, but he is reliant solely on one stipulation," Mebuki stretched her fingers out to touch Sakura's cheek tenderly, entreating her for forgiveness, "He has asked for your hand in marriage."
Whatever last little bit of her heart that Sakura was clinging to, with fervor and desperation, left her the moment her mother spoke. Barely had Gaara departed and she was already betrothed again, promised this time to a man whose name she did not even know.
Sakura sat frozen atop her dais, her chest still, her mind quiet, and her gaze vacant.
Mebuki watched her attentively, searching for some sign that her daughter had heard her, for some reaction whether it be favorably or unfavorably.
She searched for something.
"Very well," Sakura came to her feet and brought her mother up with her, but released Mebuki as soon as they were standing, "When will I meet him?"
"We will travel to Konoha soon. Your father will make the necessary preparations and - ,"
"I need a moment," Sakura turned away, facing the fire, "May I please be alone?"
"You should not be by yourself now," Mebuki faltered as she started towards her daughter; she did not know whether to comfort her or allow her some space, "Stay with me tonight, in my rooms."
"Mother, please," Sakura's hands flew to her face as soon as she felt the tears pricking her eyes again, cupping her cheeks and hiding her gaze, "Leave me be, now."
"Sakura, you must believe me, I would never agree to this if I did not think it was the only way to save your life," Mebuki uttered her words sharply, her own rage at their situation ultimately winning out.
"Mother!" Sakura's voice broke as the words climbed up her throat, her own fury, her own sorrow, her own anguish rivaling anything that threatened to consume Mebuki in that moment, "Leave me be! Please! You've no idea the pain I feel!"
She collapsed to the floor in a heap of silken cloth and the tears came freely as she hiccuped and sobbed aloud. Mebuki was rooted to the spot, captivated by this unfathomable display of agony, and believing full well that she had been the cause of it.
"I can not take any more of this," Sakura hunched over the hearth, twisting the fabric of her robes in her fervent grasp.
She was tired. So, so tired - of being sad, of experiencing pain, of harboring anger, of feeling. . . Anything. What more could be taken from her? What else did she have to lose?
"I loved him," Sakura whispered, the admission no longer feeling like a weight being lifted. Rather it was another chain shackled to her, another burden to bear, another onus that was hers and hers alone.
What use was it to keep it a secret now? He was dead.
He was dead.
He was dead.
When Naruto had said it in front of the whole of her father's court, Hinata had been the only one who looked at her and understood, for it was the very same fear that she lived with for far longer than Sakura ever had to. But that was love, was it not? Fear? Anger? Sorrow? Pain.
Sakura had once believed that a love so fierce, a passion so deep, a bond so powerful - their love, their passion, their bond - could not be displaced so easily. Certainly not. Certainly there was no power in the world stronger than what she felt for him.
But there it was - that love, that passion, that bond. It had been torn up from its very roots. It was as if she did not know him anymore. He was a figment. He was a stranger. He was a dream to her. . . At first in his absence. . .
He could have been alive.
He could have simply been gone.
But now, he was, quite certainly, dead.
"Who?" Mebuki asked urgently, "Who? Who are you talking about?"
"It does not matter now," Sakura's eyes dried, but her voice was still hoarse. Mebuki straightened herself, attempting to cling to the composure of the ruler she should be, but succumbing slowly to the incompetence she felt as a mother, "Please. I can not stand it."
"What, darling? What is it?"
"Everything," Sakura whispered, defeated, "All of it. It feels as though the world has tested me - over and over again - and I have failed. Every time."
"No, Sakura," Mebuki rushed towards her daughter, falling to the ground beside her. She placed her arms around Sakura and held her tightly, "It is I who has failed you. Your father and I - we never imagined that it would happen like this. We never wanted it to be this way."
Of course they did not. Sakura knew that, rationally. But that could not displace the encapsulating numbness that had spread through her. There was no room left for rationale. Nor sorrow. Nor pain. Nor anger.
Sakura clung to her mother, drawing her close, and rested her dried cheek on Mebuki's shoulder.
As she held her mother, she remembered the many sleepless nights when she had laid upon her bed and felt the pull of Sasuke's presence even when he was not in her room.
With a final, defiant flicker of her hope, Sakura tugged on that thread, that near tangible tether that had bound her to Sasuke from that very first day. That thread that had led them to each other every evening after. That thread that had tangled itself between them with every touch, every kiss, every word.
That thread that had served as a reminder of his presence as he lay just on the other side of the palace.
But she felt nothing now.
The thread had been cut.
"Mark this day," Sakura said quietly, her voice an unsteady timbre, tremulous, but void of any emotion and further ability to weep, "For it is the day my heart has ceased to beat."
Sakura closed her eyes; she was utterly expended.
Utterly broken.
Utterly hopeless.
She had had her great love, her dreamlike romance of passion, and now it was time to make peace with that. To know that all it was, it was. And to know that all it was, was all it ever would be.
Beyond that, there was nothing left for her.