Sunrise
She was the only thing we really agreed on.
No matter how much we argued, how much we hated each other, she was the only thing that kept us together. We probably would've killed each other long ago if it weren't for her to stop us. She connected us in a way that was stronger than animosity or rivalry.
From the beginning it was the three of us—and Sensei, of course. But, if we were really honest, it was the three of us. A dead last, a genius, and an average girl. I always thought that it was kind of unfair. Our sensei gave us the harsher training routines and ignored her. We were so caught up in our game that we ignored her, too.
She was always just there. No matter how much I chased after you—trying to catch up to you—she was there. At first it was only to tell me that I'd never succeed. How could I possibly catch up to you, Mr. Freakin' Perfect? Later she was there as an unofficial referee for our fights. I'll be the first to admit that she was as biased a referee as they came. But if anything ever threatened either of us, she'd blast that clueless son of a bitch to kingdom come.
After you left to join that snake bastard, she changed. How could she not? Every single one of the genin involved were changed because of your stupid, selfish, moronic decision. We all had to grow up in that three-day span of time. True, as ninja we had to grow up fast to begin with. But nothing will slap you down into the jaded world of adulthood faster than the betrayal of your best friend.
But that's enough of that. I started this to talk about her, not you—we've spent too much time talking about you as it is.
What I meant about her changing…it was for the best. It really was. It gave her a determination and a purpose that I'd never seen in her before. She was willing to do anything it took to get you back. That fueled my determination as well. We helped each other through that time when you were gone from our lives. Even though you were replaced on the team, we never were whole while you were gone.
It was as if part of our souls were missing.
It was the three of us. It always had been. And now you were gone.
For me, I'd lost a brother. Someone I could pound on and argue with; someone who'd goad me into working harder so that I could beat you. For her, she'd lost a lover. Someone she would die for; someone she'd give up all ties and betray all loyalties to be with.
While you were on your hiatus—so to speak—we became close. When she finally decided to move out of her parents' house, I was the one she moved in with. We weren't involved romantically. She was still in love with you and I was still too clueless about the opposite sex to do more than sneak peaks at her when she left the shower every morning.
Instead, we respected each other. We joked and laughed and lived. She smiled for me in a way that she never could with you—freely, without fear of rejection or pain. Every morning over the breakfast table, as she pushed a plate of something other than ramen at me, she'd smile for me. It was a beautiful, soft smile. One that someone who was happy and content would make.
Yes, she loved you first.
But I've gotta tell you…she loved me best.
When we brought you back home, that smile disappeared for everyone except me. She was stressed out and nervous. The goal she'd worked for was accomplished. You were here, but at the same time not. You'd changed as we'd changed. She felt lost and a bit confused. You were no longer the childhood love she remembered.
It didn't help that we were assigned to watch you day and night for two months. Or maybe it did.
Slowly we began arguing. It was like the arguments we had when we were younger and at the same time nothing like them. It took me a while to finally understand why.
She was arguing with us too.
Granted, when she was younger she'd argue with me, but that was more of an older sister smacking her little brother around. Now she was giving you pretty much the same treatment. I can still remember the look on your face when she smacked the side of your head for the first time and told you to stop being arrogant.
She had fists like bricks, didn't she?
Even after your house arrest was finished, we lived together. Life was good then. Every morning, you and I fought. She'd come in and tell us both to grow up. Then she'd make us the breakfast that neither one of us would've made if we'd been alone. She was as strong a kunoichi as they came, but she was traditional in the strangest ways.
Eating breakfast together at the table every morning was one of her rules.
It was one of those rules that killed her. She hated seeing anyone in pain. If we were on a mission, she'd heal any traveler we came across with a splinter in his hand.
She was a great ninja, but an even greater doctor. I was just as surprised and impressed as you when she got her medical license. It was one of the few secrets she kept from us.
I know that what the others say is true. "It's an honor to die in combat…She died protecting those she loved." Blah, blah, blah. I only hope that everyone says such nice things about me when it's my turn. But those are only empty words.
I'd rather have her back and in my arms again.
Sometimes I just wish she hadn't been so dedicated. That she didn't have as much honor as you and as much determination as I do. I wish that she hadn't been as gifted as she obviously was.
I even wish that she hadn't been a ninja either.
Cuz, if all that had been true, then she'd still be alive. She'd be with us—with me.
I can feel the gazes of the other people in the room. They're looking at the two of us with sympathy and sadness. Right now I just want to lay my head on this table—right between the cold mugs holding our beer and the huge bottle of sake our old sensei gave us—and cry.
But we're shinobi…we can't do that.
I want to leave.
I want to go back to our house, where the three of us lived so happily for the past five years, and crawl into her bed and sniff her smell on the mint green sheets.
Oh, Kami, I miss her so much it hurts.
Sasuke, what will we do now?
