Author's Note: This was meant to be the result of one night's impulse, but I couldn't stay away. So, here's the second installment. Tell me what you think about it.

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She put the brush aside, folded the paper neatly, and slipped it inside a plain looking envelope. She wrote something on the envelope, bound it with other letters, and stored them inside a cabinet.

Over the years her pale, smooth hands had been slowly savaged by age, leaving now wrinkled skin with spots that covered the thinning flesh and bones. They moved gracefully, like they had always been, although arthritis had set in a couple years ago. Sometimes the joints creaked with pain and lifting a finger became a burden, but their owner wouldn't have it the other way. She welcomed this aging process with a phrase she often muttered when she thought no one was watching.

Shikata ga nai. It can't be helped.

This bit of sentence had sustained her over the lonely years she spent after her husband's passing.

She lifted the hem of her silk, flower-print kimono carefully, not wanting to stain it with the spilled ink her cat, Misa, in the middle of energetic fight with a ball of yarn, had knocked from the glass bottle. The kimono was such a delicate thing, it was her favorite in springtime. Wearing it made her feel like the windblown sakura petals she often saw during the season, frail yet feminine.

She took a cloth and started wiping the ink off the table. Her cat eyed her curiously, now bored with the yarn. Her owner couldn't help but smile and softly scolded the feline, "Naughty child, don't you know my fingers need some rest?"

Delighted that her master talked to her, Misa purred and rubbed her furry head against her master's knee. Soon, a warm chuckle escaped her master's unpainted lips and the lines around the mouth disappear as they bloomed into a wider smile.

She felt the breeze from the garden and thought, What a lovely day. The weather was perfect, and if she was not mistaken, she would have an old friend coming over later in the afternoon. They would chat while sitting outside and exchange stories. As always, she would listen to her friend's humorous telling about the grand kids and their antics, and in appropriate manner she would 'ooh' and 'aah' and laugh politely.

Afterwards, they would come inside for some tea and snacks. The sweets were ready, she bought a special treat for today's visit when she had gone to the market this morning. She knew that her friend enjoyed nothing more than a plate of succulent sakuramochi. She found delight in seeing her friend's face lit up whenever she served that particular confection.

Over tea, they would silently enjoy the afternoon until the sun hinted that it's time to go. Then her friend would bid her leave and they would hug, feeling each other's warmth and thin bodies, realizing that age had not grown them apart. With a promise that next week she would be the one to come over, they parted.

Following her daily routine, she would clean up afterwards and take a long, hot bath to sooth her joints. Refreshed, dinner was waiting. There was not much to do in the kitchen, since it was only for Misa and her. If she felt like something a bit more extravagant, she would prepare the ingredients beforehand. However, lately she chose to make her meals as simple as possible. Maybe it was her age, or maybe it was fatigue, she didn't know.

Then it would be time for bed. For the last six years, sleeping was the only thing she dreaded, because half of her bed was unoccupied. She felt strange lying down beside nothing, and closing her eyes while knowing that it was unnatural for her to rest alone.

She stopped thinking, and looked down when she felt a weight on her lap. Unconsciously, she had caressed Misa to sleep while her thoughts roamed the near future. The little kitten had balled herself, seeking comfort in her lap, while her old hands lulled the cat into a slumber. She felt a surge of deep affection for her gentle companion.

This made her wonder, what if the one she was cuddling right now was one of the grandchildren she never had? Would she feel this soft beating of the heart against her stomach and the deep feelings rising from watching the sleeping figure?

Would she now play with her grandchildren instead of looking at the garden, staring into the empty space?

Shaking her head, she knew those thoughts were only hurting her. She didn't want to regret anything. The years she spent with her beloved were more than enough, though they had no children. Her life was for him. It had not changed one bit, even after six years since he left her with a smile on his peaceful, contented face.

They said that time would fade the memories. Sometimes she heard people talking about how they were starting to forget the person they had lost.

But she remembered his face, every detail adorning his looks. His bright, blond hair had gone, replaced by streaks of grays that added wisdom to his features. Crow's feet had settled around his blue eyes, but they only enhanced the effect of his typical wide grin. He laughed a lot, and his laughter influenced many people. She was the happiest when he smiled for her. Just one curve of the lips, and the years seemed to vanish and they went back being teenagers again.

His secret smile, reserved only for her.

Six years. She had not seen that smile for six bleak years. It had become an addiction for her to see him; his presence was necessary for her being. She craved, oh, how she craved to have him flash the one smile that said many things to her, the soft smile that he gave her when he finally came to her room one night many, many years ago.

She blinked back tears that threatened to spill out. Using the back of her hand, she wiped them dry.

It was almost time. Her friend would come soon. She carefully lifted her kitten and placed her on the tatami, stroking the fur for a last time, and got up. With little steps she headed for the kitchen. From the bags, she took out the sakuramochi and other sweets. Then she boiled water for the tea, rinsed the cups and plates, and wiped them clean. Deliberately she arranged the sweets around the plate and had a separate one for the sakuramochi. To add some touch, she had cut fresh flowers from the garden and put them in a water-filled vase.

When everything was ready, she took them out on a tray into the living room, sat down and waited.

Suddenly she felt the pain, quick and merciless. Her body trembled while she held the place where it hurt the most. Luckily she was sitting on the floor. Fatigue came afterwards, and she couldn't help but feeling her years. Inhaling for deep breaths, the pain subsided slowly and she calmed down.

She knew the attacks were coming, but they had become more frequent lately. Maybe if she had not ignored the good Fujii-sensei, the young doctor at Konoha Clinic, she would not experience this latest attack. He told her that there were things called painkillers and she should take them. But he also told her about many other medicines, none which she, as a former kunoichi, felt compelled to consume. When he had finished briefing her, she had shook her head and declined politely. No, she had said, she would rather feel the pain.

She steadied herself and checked for her appearance from the mirror on the hallway. She liked what she saw. Her kimono had enhanced her subtle beauty and over the years she had acquired grace. She tried to smile into her reflection on the mirror, then blushed slightly, thinking how silly she had become in her twilight years.

As expected, her friend came a little over four in the afternoon, perfect time for tea, snacks and good gossips. Sakura-san had not changed much, she still retained that enviable pink hair and beauty. Of course now her face had wizened a bit, but except for those little flaws she was as immaculate as she had been when they were young.

"Hinata-san, how are you feeling?"

Sakura-san was the only person she informed about her illness. From the worried look on Sakura-san's face, Hinata knew that she looked the worse since last time they met, despite her attempt to pinch her cheeks hurriedly before opening the door.

She also knew that lying would be useless in front of this kunoichi, "Not too well, I'm afraid, Sakura-san."

"Did the attacks come frequently?"

"Yes, but Fujii-sensei had warned me."

"Tsk, the young doctor and his modern medicines," Sakura said impatiently.

Hinata smiled a bit at her friend's comment then added, "It's a modern disease that I have, Sakura-san."

Once in a while, Hinata could surprise Sakura with her quiet wit, and when she did, they would have a laugh. Today was no exception.

"Ah, Hinata-san. You still have that spark within you."

"And you, Sakura-san, is still as energetic as always. How are the grandchildren, by the way?"

Then she launched into streams of stories of her beloved family. In the middle of the conversation, Hinata ushered the plate of sweets and sakuramochi to her guest. Within minutes, the sakuramochi was gone and Sakura was licking her fingers delicately.

"Hmm, you always knew where to buy the best mochi. I tried making them myself, but...oh, well."

"And I'm not telling you where I bought them. Just in case you decide to stop coming here for the sweets."

"Hinata-san, you know that I enjoy our afternoons together!" said Sakura, quite girlishly, then smiled.

"And I enjoy our friendship over the years, Sakura-san," Hinata replied solemnly.

Silence befell them. The rustling of the leaves outside could be heard clearly.

"Hinata-san? Why are you so serious suddenly?"

"Sakura-san-" Hinata started to answer, but she stopped in the middle. It was hard for her to say the next sentence.

"Yes?"

"People say that when a person is going to....pass on, that person will know it."

Sakura went pale and said nothing. She gripped her own kimono and stared at Hinata for a long time. When she finally opened her mouth to answer, she could only whisper, "I see."

"Do you understand me, Sakura-san?"

"Yes, I do. Shikata ga nai."

It can't be helped.

"Hai, shikata ga nai. It's my time. I need to see him again," Hinata replied.

"I am going to miss you, Hinata."

"And I, you, Sakura."

Both women eyed each other and long years of friendship burdened down upon their conscious minds. It's amazing how they had changed outwardly, and how they had stayed the same girls during those decades. There was nothing to be said because the two old friends understood each other.

It was time.

Sakura reached out and hugged the other woman. They felt their years, their wisdom, and their stories intertwined and united with this one embrace. Sakura-san whispered something to her ears, and Hinata smiled understandingly.

When they parted later that afternoon, the mood was much more somber than hours ago. In her hands, Sakura held a bundle of letters Hinata had written to her other friends and families. She had promised the other woman to send them after she had passed on.

With one last goodbye hug, the two friends parted. Sakura never looked back again. Hinata suspected her friend was crying. Sakura-san knew that she didn't want any tears and turned her back so that Hinata would not see the obvious.

Hinata waved silently to the retreating figure. She was content. In her life, she had one true love and one very good friend.

Entering the house, she put the plates and cups back into the kitchen, cleaned them thoroughly, and put them in the cupboards. In her private room, Misa was still sleeping soundly. Hinata put down a bowl of cat's food and a bowl of milk beside her. She looked at the kitten that had become a part of her old age and felt sadness. Maybe tomorrow Misa would have another master to nag, to play with, and to love.

Brushing aside her thoughts, she walked into the bathroom and took off her kimono. She eyed her body and noticed the sagging breasts, the wrinkled skin around her neck, and the slightly hunched posture. She didn't care. He had loved her body and she was certain he would continue to. Bright-eyed at the thought, she climbed into the bathtub and soaked herself wet.

Tonight she would pamper herself with floral-scented soaps and massage oils. She would be in her best appearance. Hinata wore a yukata which was slightly too big for her. It was her husband's. She had not touched his belongings since he died. Impossible as it might've been, she thought she could smell his lingering scent.

Then she climbed into bed, for the first time in six years feeling quite settled and comfortable. Although the half of the bed was empty, Hinata felt her husband sleeping next to her. She could feel him, almost as if he was physically present. If she reached out a hand, maybe she could touch his back.

She covered herself with the blanket and waited. In her hands was the letter she wrote earlier that day. She breathed deeply.

Inhale, exhale.

Inhale, exhale.

Then she remembered what Sakura had whispered to her in the afternoon. Hinata smiled, and said out loud to her husband, "Naruto-kun, Sakura-san says hello. Do you know she has a grandchild who likes to eat ramen as much as you do?"

She swore she could hear the deep, throaty laugh of his. Hinata waited and breathed.

Inhale,

Exhale.

Inhale,

Exhale.

Inhale,

Then she heard her name whispered,

Hinata.

He had come for her.

It is time.

She exhaled.

And came to him, smiling.