prompt is a kiss that won't be remembered; fb prompt fill

.

.

"you're crying."

"i'm not."

"your eyes are red—"

"oh shut up!"

but hashirama couldn't leave madara alone. the girl tiptoed closer towards the river, where the boy was heading. he was sad. it's bad. something bad must had happened.

after madara wiped his face, hashirama stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. he was stunned, slowly reaching for the spot where her lips just landed.

"please don't cry," she whispered, quickly explaining to hide her creeping embarrassment, "it's—it's... mother like to do it to father when he's sad..."

the surprise on his face was replaced by smugness. "you're the one who's about to cry now."

"hey!"

.
hashirama didn't know why she was reminded to that moment today, of all times, when she gazed at madara at the end of the aisle, clad in black tux. he was giddy, she could tell.

madara's face was radiant with happiness.

it warmed her heart to see her best friend like this, truly, yet here she was, stuck in the chair like dozens other guests, clutching a pouch of flower petals. the innocent kiss she gave him fifteen years ago would've been forgotten, overshadowed by the kiss he'd share with his bride soon...

oh no, no. she wouldn't trade away his happiness for a little selfish thought.

so hashirama smoothed her dress, waiting.

.
the bride never came.

hashirama sought him at a nearby bar, still wearing the same tuxedo past midnight, with his third glass of scotch. she took it away from his grasp.

"i'll drive you to the hotel," she offered.

madara still stared at the empty space where his drink was. "i can walk."

"i'll walk with you then."

they were almost arrived at the hotel when madara stopped at a bridge. hashirama linked their arms, worried, but he shook his head.

"listen."

in the starlit world, hashirama could make out the silhouette of a roaring waterfall in the north. its river ran under their feet.

"it'll be easier if i can just… elope with you."

hashirama's lips parted, then pursed as she looked away and freed his arm. "you know i can't," she rubbed her ring finger, which was adorned with a silver band. within a week, it'd be replaced with a golden one.

"i saw you," madara hissed, "i know that look, hashi—"

"let's just go…"

"you're the one who's about to cry now."

she froze.

a faint smile danced on his lips. madara had to lean on the railing to support his weight. he's definitely not just tipsy.

he wouldn't remember this exchange of words.

hashirama closed the distance between them, and kissed his cheek.

madara wouldn't remember this kiss either.

.
it was days later when madara watched hashirama walking on the aisle to her groom, her eyes twinkled with tears as they met his, and he could feel tears rolling on his cheek. he's happy for her, although he felt like he had forgotten something important.

like the reason why hashirama had to look at madara when she said "i do."