Notes: My first ever Naruto drabble. I've watched six episodes of the anime, and this is just a piece on two characters and their relationship (or lack thereof) that I find interesting.
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Sakura looks at him, her green eyes swimming with anxiousness.
Wake up, Sasuke.
She has kept vigil for almost a whole day now. He has been injured before, but not like this. The bruises and cuts on his face have healed; with the help of salves that Sakura has just learned how to mix.
But he still hasn't regained consciousness. Kakashi says that there is nothing to do but wait, so Sakura waits patiently by his side, as always.
When his eyes finally open, they look different, somehow. Unfocused. He turns to her, but Sakura feels that he doesn't really see her, and that scares her more than she lets herself admit.
"Sasuke? Sasuke, can you hear me?"
He blinks once, then nods. Sakura isn't sure about what to say now, and silence falls over them both.
"I don't like pink."
Sakura blinks. Sasuke…
"I've never liked pink."
She knows he isn't lucid then. Sasuke has never seemed like the type of person to talk about colors. To her or anybody else. A lock of her pale pink hair falls across her shoulder, and Sakura smiles bitterly. Figures.
He slips back into normal sleep again, and Sakura pads out of the room silently.
In a day he is back to normal. He and Naruto drive her crazy with their incessant sniping, and Kakashi remains as enigmatic as ever. Just a normal day.
After training, she purposely seeks him out—as always—and finds him, seated on a stone bench, watching the sunset expressionlessly. He doesn't acknowledge her when she sits beside him, so they are both silent. A light breeze blows, and the light pink petals of her namesake fly in the breeze.
One lands on Sasuke's shoulder, the pale color in sharp contrast with the dark blue of his shirt. He frowns, ever so slightly, and Sakura finds the courage to brush the flower away, taking it and twirling it between her fingers.
"I know you don't like pink," she says, in response to his raised eyebrow.
He looks away from her. "Certain shades aren't that bad. I…I don't mind the cherry blossoms."
Sakura blushes slightly. "…Oh."
When he gets up to leave, she almost moves to stop him, or to get up and go with him. Something keeps her in her seat, though, and when he's out of sight, she exhales slowly, an elusive feeling of happy and sad dancing within her.
"Sakura."
He speaks without turning his head, but stops and speaks, nevertheless. "You coming?"
She catches up to him in an instant, and they continue down the pathway.
Feel the wind on your skinNo one else can feel it for you
No one else can let it in
This is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten.
Sakura smiles, catching her companion by surprise.
Unwritten, indeed. A little bit of progress made; the first few letters in her own book.
It feels good.
Sakura looks up to the cherry blossoms and the few stray strands of her hair waving in the air, and she realizes then what they mean.
Pink means hope.
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I don't own the lyrics. Natasha Bedingfield does. I don't own Naruto, either.