Title: Rain
Rating: K+
Summary: She understood now what he had meant about the rain. She wished she didn't, but she finally did.
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto! Cripes, quit bugging me already!
Author's note: This is a prequel to a new story I'm working on so keep a look out for that one soon :smiles:
Read and Review. Please and thank you.
Rain
She remembered once when she was fourteen, she had passed by the very field in which she was currently standing and caught sight of her former instructor, his silver hair gleaming under the shadows of the clouds. It was raining and she was drenched to her toes, but she had halted her steps and stared at the legendary Jounin, standing in front of the marble slab that displayed the names of those who had died fighting for the village. His head was slightly bowed, his hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers. It was his usual stance and yet there was something different about the way he held himself, as if it took all of his strength to stay on his feet.
"It's raining, Sakura."
She supposed she shouldn't be surprised that he sensed her presence. He was after all her superior and while he was no longer teaching her, she'd never stopped thinking him as her teacher.
"What are you doing standing in the middle of the rain, Sensei?" she asked as she approached him, running her hands up and down her arms in a futile attempt to rid herself of the cold.
He didn't answer her, his gaze on the memorial. She came to stand next to him and clapped her hands together as she offered her respect to the heroes of their village.
After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Kakashi let out a long, weary-filled sigh and lifted his masked face to the sky, allowing the droplets of rain to further drench him. "The rain is numbing, isn't it, Sakura?"
She glanced at him. "Eh?"
"The rain. It numbs everything."
She never did quite understood what he meant, but then again it was Kakashi and he was well-known for his cryptic speeches.
Now though, she understood perfectly what he'd meant. She wished she didn't—Kami-sama, she wished she didn't—for the knowledge came with a heartwrenching ache that left her with a wound that bled and gaped without any hopes of recovering.
She stood in the same position he had stood that day, allowing the rain to soak through her clothes to her bare skin. Her eyes were focused on the marble slab before her, slicked and glistening from the rain.
"Hai, Sensei," she whispered to herself. "The rain is numbing."
"Sakura-chan! Why are you standing in the middle of the rain? You'll get sick!"
She hadn't heard him approach and in the back of her mind, she wondered why she wasn't shocked to hear his voice. She turned her head slightly and watched as the blonde-haired shinobi made his way to her from the other side of the field. He wore his patented cheerful smile, his grin so large his eyes were practically hidden, but she couldn't help but notice the absence of the glow that had always seemed to surround him, even at the worst of times.
"I'm fine, Naruto," she replied and she could feel the clenching in her heart as she noticed the two other figures walking a few paces behind the blonde. She glanced back and forth between the memorial and her teammates. Naruto stood the closest to her, his arms folded behind his head and smiling in that goofy manner of his. Sasuke stood the farthest away, his face void of any expression, almost coldly so, and yet shadows no longer lingered in his dark eyes. He was, she believed, finally at peace.
Sakura smiled at him and turned her attention to the tall, silver-haired man standing between his former male students. He stood in his usual pose, his back slouched as if he were leaning against a wall, one hand tucked in his pocket while the other held up a brightly-covered book with a warning for underage people.
He looked up from his favored book, his visible dark eye taking in her drenched appearance as if he'd just noticed her for the first time. "Ho," he said in that mild-mannered voice of his. "Tsunade-sama's not going to be happy when she finds out that you've been frolicking in the rain, not so soon after the operation. Go home, Sakura."
She glared at him. "I'm a medic. I'll be fine."
"Don't be such a child, Sakura," Sasuke admonished quietly. "Go home."
She opened her mouth to retort, but Naruto cut her off. "Sakura-chan," he began cajolingly. "You know we want what's best for you. You've just been discharged from the hospital. You should be resting, not standing in the rain. What if it causes a relapse? We wouldn't want anything to happen to our Sakura-chan."
Sakura's chin quivered and rage boiled within her as she looked at Naruto's warm smile and felt both Sasuke's impatience and Kakashi's fatherly concern. She wanted to kick them; she wanted to throw her head back and scream until her throat was raw and bleeding. How dare they? How dare they act so normal when everything had obviously fallen apart?
She lifted her hand and pointed out at their general direction. "You all left me behind again!" she yelled. "How could you? You left me!"
Naruto's grin faded and even Sasuke was affected. Kakashi took a step forward, all manner of calmness gone. "Sakura—"
"Shut up!" she hissed, her voice almost muffled by the rain, but she knew they heard her. "You don't get to talk. None of you! How dare you?" she whispered harshly. She pressed her hand to her chest, where it felt as though her heart was shattering. For once in her life, she didn't want to smile and pretend as if everything would be all right. No, she wanted to rage. She wanted to stomp her feet and show them her immense strength. She wanted to . . . she wanted to feel. Kami-sama, she wanted to feel something other than this huge sense of loss.
"You all left me," she repeated, the truth sinking in deeper, clutching her bones like a vice. "How could you?"
"Sakura, stop crying," Sasuke ordered.
She didn't realize she was, she thought as she wiped her cheeks. A hysterical giggle bubbled within her; it's raining, you fool, she told herself, it doesn't matter how hard you rub your face, it'll still be wet. But that was her, a true-blue optimist. God, how she hated herself sometimes.
She pressed her palms to her temples, willing the pain to go away. Insanity was seeping in and Kami-sama, it seemed as if there was no way to stop it.
"Sakura-chan." It was Naruto; he, who had always seemed the most immature among them, was actually the one with the most wisdom. She gritted her teeth. She didn't want his fucking wisdom. She wanted . . . she wanted him. She wanted all of them.
He was standing close to her and for a second, she allowed herself to believe that she felt his breath on her skin, the infinite energy emanating from him a warmth she hadn't been able to feel ever since she woke up alone in a hospital bed. She closed her eyes, her fists clenched so tightly her nails dug sharply into her flesh. Make it real, make it real, make it real . . .
"Sakura-chan, don't cry," he whispered and she screwed her eyes tighter, unable to breathe. "You know it hurts me when you cry. Please stop cry—"
"Someone's coming," she suddenly heard Kakashi say.
Abruptly, she opened her eyes and whirled around. True enough, she could make out the shadow of another person, much taller than she. She squinted and through the rain she could make out the pure white yukata, the dark-colored hair and the eyes that seemed to glow a pale silver.
"Hyuuga-san . . ." she murmured.
He approached almost cautiously, a frown between his brows. "What are you doing out here, Haruno?" he demanded almost harshly. He looked over her pale, drenched form and his scowl hardened. "You should be inside where it's dry."
She lowered her arms. "I . . ." She looked around; the field was empty saved the two of them. She bit her bottom lip, wondering why she had not died yet from this pain. They were alone. "I . . ."
Studying her, his face seemed to soften; it was a strange sight, for there was nothing soft about him—his life had ensured that. Yet, as he gazed at her, his eyes held a look of compassion.
It angered her. She didn't need nor want his pity. She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, glaring up at him. "What I do or don't do, Hyuuga-san, is frankly none of your business. You should be inside where it's dry."
His mouth drew into a grim line and for a moment, she imagined he was thinking of a likewise rude retort, but instead his eyes strayed over her shoulder to the large marble slab behind her and the lines around his lips shifted. He returned his pale-eyed gaze at her and the look he gave her was almost her undoing. She didn't know why, but she knew she couldn't accept that look from this man. He, who held so much faith in fate and destiny, should not be giving her that look. He, of all people, should understand.
He opened his mouth and even before he spoke, she knew what he was going to say and disappointment mingled with the anger and pain, fueling the tumult of emotions that was already whirling within her.
"I'm sorry, Haruno-san."
She clenched her jaw and looked up at him challengingly. "Why?" she spat. "We won, didn't we?"
His brows knitted. "That's not what I—"
"You were right," she interjected. She didn't want to hear him mouthing platitudes; it felt so insulting coming from someone like him. She walked around him. "I should be inside where it's dry. I suggest you do the same. Good evening, Hyuuga-san."
And with that, she was gone, disappearing in a swirl of mist that rose to join the rain.
Hyuuga Neji scowled and turned back to the memorial and for a second, his eyes fell on the last three names that had been recently etched into the gleaming marble before he too followed suit and disappeared.
Hatake Kakashi, Uchiha Sasuke, Uzumaki Naruto.
Done.
Look out for Memories of Yesterday, a story that was inspired by this one. Coming out soon. Until then, peace out.
