Disclaimer: I'll tell you when I get enough money to buy it. Until then, Naruto, and all its goodness, do not belong to me...
When she was young, all she saw was his back— black hair, blazing fan, and a shoulder struggling with something undoubtedly heavy but indiscernible.
Tonight, she looks at him.
She sees his eyes—red swirling dots of sheer emptiness—and she knows she has lost him to something more powerful than curse seals and bloodline-induced insanity.
Despite the thick moon, heavy with light that it hangs so low to be almost touched, she finds that he is too dark to be seen. She does not know if it is a blessing or not, but she knows that it is a double-edged sword. When he moves, she does not see the ash-gray skin stretched taut over a skeletal frame, does not notice the mortifying gleam in his teeth as he smiles at her predatorily, does not witness the inhuman changes that has wreaked havoc upon his once handsome face, and cannot make out his grotesque wings from the shadows that surround his being.
She is left with a sounder mind void of broken dreams for this.
Still, it does not save her from her precarious position at the opposite end of his katana, and she asks herself if it is enough to keep the puzzle whole when there is a piece sorely sticking out. She is certain that it is him—that one piece that had been the difference between something complete and something irreparably broken (vague flashes of happy moments and an almost-family flit across her mind)—but she doesn't know if she could hold him down into her—no—their mold. But he had fit so perfectly between Naruto, Kakashi-sensei, and I.
She feels him, at least, and that is what keeps her alive.
A part of her wishes that he would just get it over with so she could crawl her way into Naruto's open arm where he lay a few meters behind. But because she is stubborn and annoying, and because inside, she knows she has to try to hold him down and fit him into their mold, she keeps her eyes open and her chakra readily gathered at her fingertips.
When he moves, she follows his shadow because she is too afraid to look into his eyes again. Inside, she laughs at how things have changed so drastically.
As a young romantic, she had dreamt of staring deep into his eyes and searching for unsaid promises of undying love and affection. She thought, when she was a little more naïve than she is now, that she would find in his eyes everything that he cannot say with his back to her face.
She laughs at how foolish she had been but a few seconds ago—before she saw nothing in those once promising eyes. She laughs (how she wishes she can push it out but he is moving too quickly and she is almost out of breath) because when she thinks about it now, she realizes that he had already said everything needed with his back—black hair, blazing fan, and an invisible burden in tow.
She moves hastily when she feels his muscles tense. She is certain he is mocking her capabilities as a kunoichi because he has yet to place a life-threatening blow but she doesn't really mind.
It gives her time to think.
And when she uses her brain for what it is good for, she is able to grasp hidden messages and near-invisible links in things that do not seem to make sense. Things like the way he is taking his time, or the way he is careful to not move in too close, and most especially how he does not turn his back away from her when she is obviously of so little threat to the prodigious Uchiha.
In all, she notes that he is foregoing all the ties that had been made before when all she saw of him was his back.
It pains her (slightly more than the burning sensation in her lungs and muscles) that she had not known him well enough to get the message when it still counted for something.
Because when he used to turn his back on her, he was leaving himself open to her, vulnerable to her shrewd and over-analyzing stares. When he turned his back on her, he had given her an invitation to find something—perhaps the meaning behind the blazing fan or the true nature of his invisible burden.
When he turned his back on her, he shielded her both from her enemies and his hardened eyes that would undoubtedly hurt her more than any rogue shinobi ever would.
His back—she quickly concludes before throwing herself to the side to narrowly escape a full-blown fire dragon clearly intent on setting her aflame—had been his only weakness.
She regrets that she had not placed a kunai into it when she had had the chance as his katana finds its way deeply into hers.
And as she lay on the ground, all she sees are his eyes—red swirling dots of emptiness—and she wishes he would turn his back on her instead.
Author's notes: Another one done! I never knew there was so much stupidity and inanity in my brain to fill so many pointless drabbles! I'm sorry to be putting you guys through this, but when the plot bunny comes-a knocking, you just know you have to start typing. I lose a lot of sleep because of shooed away bunnies. They're very resentful, I can tell you that. And so, to save yourselves from bad writing and plotlines, do review and tell me what I can do to improve or what you might like to see in a drabble. Believe me, it takes very little effort to do and does a whole lot of good. Struggling writers need all the help and encouragement they can get and I am certainly one of them.
Also, to those few who did send me my version of manna: Thank you so much! Muwah! I love you!
Lastly, this drabble is what I thought could be another way of looking at Sakura's position behind Sasuke. I always read things about her 'looking at their backs and feeling left behind' soI felt a little change in angles would do good. I hope I didn't ruin it. Ciao! Stay tuned for the next one!