Title: - I've made a Good Living by Dying

Rating: "M" for light gore, implied rape, heavily implied torture

World State: A.U.

Summary: "All good things die, sooner or later. Not even flowers are meant to last forever."

Word Count: 6,079

Credits: Chapter title is a reference to the Draconian song, "Bloodflower." Lyrics at the top belong to Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds and come from their song, "Into my Arms." "So we'll go no more a roving" was written by Lord Byron


And I don't believe in the existance of angels

But looking at you, I wonder if that's true

But if I did I would summon them together

And ask them to watch over you


"Come closer, little one."

The Little Sister worried that she had an overactive imagination.

There were perks to being assigned the back of the procession, namely no one got to see her look around rather keep her head bowed in prayer with hands clasped at busom. The High Monastery was a beautiful place full of vaulted ceilings and high-flying stained glass. The courtyards were especially wonderful. It was part of the daily work for each Sister to work outside and maintain the gardens and trees to appease the gods.

Passing through on their way to the prayer hall with the other girls, The Little Sister felt her eyes drawn to the tower at the Southern-most end of the South courtyard. For as long as she could remember, the South Tower was forbidden to all but the High Priest and Priestess. Often she wondered why, a tower was simply a tower. Alongside her own unfavorable status, she couldn't help but feel a curious affinity for it and examined it at a distance when she could.

Today, as she drew parallel with the tower, she glanced to the side and discovered something new. Set flush to the ground, barely visible between two large bushes of St. John's wort, was a window laced with thick iron bars. The Little Sister paused, the rest of the procession moving along without her. She stared, fascinated by such a small thing.

"Please, little one. It's lonely here."

The Little Sister looked around wildly when the voice first spoke, seeing no one but her Sisters leaving her behind. It was not until the voice whispered a plea, that she saw the arm extending from the window, slowly waggling fingers in an attempt to gain attention. The Little Sister felt her heart speed up.

A Sister?

A prisoner?

With a glance forward as the last of the procession drew around the corner and a quick look around to make sure she was alone, the Little Sister scurried across the lawn. The arm withdrew when she got close, a pair of pale hands now gripping the iron bars. The Little Sister ducked behind one of the bushes and peered into the darkness.

"Hello, little one," whispered a pale face barely visible in the gloom. The Little Sister stared. The woman looked like a drawing out of one of the old holy texts, like a sacred maid or priestess, though not like any of the priestesses she knew, they were all old and wrinkled. Though her cheeks were sunken in, and her golden hair matted, and dark circles ringed pale blue eyes that seemed to glow, she was still beautiful, even dressed in the rags that she was. "I'm happy to see you."

"Why are you in there? Don't you know it's forbidden!" The Little Sister hissed through the bars. The woman huffed out a quiet laugh.

"It doesn't matter why I'm in here anymore, I've been in here so long," she replied. "I'm just happy you came to visit. What's your name?" she asked.

The Little Sister shifted uncomfortably.

"I don't have one," she said eventually. "Everyone here just calls me 'Little Sister.'" The woman frowned.

"How do you not have a name? Everybody needs a name, especially sweet little girls like you."

The Little Sister recounted the story told to her by one of the priestesses. She was an orphan, her parents having abandoned her on their doorstep late in the night when she was still a squalling infant. The monastery was hesitant to take her in, deeming the unnatural magnolia-coloring of her hair to be an ill omen, only made worse as her eyes shifted to a vibrant green as she aged. In the fourteen years at the only home she had ever known, she was shunned and looked down upon.

"I will give you a name, then," the woman said after a moment of silence and watching the sad young face before her. "Return tonight and I will have a name for you," she promised. She released her grip on the bars and slowly reached out. The Little Sister drew back a tiny bit at the sight of dirty nails grown long and sharp. The woman saw and pulled back, a look of regret on her face as she returned to gripping the bars. "Promise you'll come back?"

The Little Sister chewed on her lip. It would be risky to sneak out of the dormitories after dark. But looking at the hopeful face hovering in the dark, she made her decision.

"I promise," she said, mustering her nerve and reaching out to gently brush her fingers across the back of a pale, cold to the touch hand. The woman smiled.

"It will be a good name," she whispered, sinking back into the dark like she had never been. The Little Sister hurried away to catch up with the others and, as she had guessed, had not been missed.


The Little Sister crept quietly through the darkened halls, every shadow making her jump with the threat of a priestess looming from around each corner. The moon was high, casting silver across the gardens, highlighting the beginnings of the morning dew yet to come. The Southern tower loomed like a dark sentry against the snow-capped mountains in the distance. The space between the St. John's wort was dark and she approached cautiously, trepidation slowing every step.

"Hurry, little one. I have a story to tell you."

The Little Sister was certain she wouldn't have heard the woman whisper it from so far away, but tamping down on her nerves, excited to have a name of her own, she knelt down by the bars.

"Hello," she called softly, considering rapping on the bars like manners dictated one would knock at a door. Pale arms threaded through and wrapped around the bars and a ghostly chin rested atop one of the horizontal bars. The woman smiled, genuine happiness dancing in her eyes.

"I have your name, little one," she said, her skin almost aflame in the moonlight.

"What is it?" the Little Sister asked, butterflies swooping through her stomach, making her shiver in an already chilly night.

"Long ago, I traveled the crossroads at the four compass points. I went wherever my feet would take me and more places I desired besides," the woman said, looking whistfully up at the moon. "I saw many different lands, and a thousand brilliant things in each.

In a land far from here, across tall mountains and harsh deserts and the churning foam of the sea, I came to a land of many peculiar things and charming people. They ate their food with thin strips of wood rather than forks and knives. They built massive shrines and castles to their gods, sometimes right on the surface of lakes. They wore beautiful robes of silk in every color you can think of and wore armor made of wood. It was in this peculiar land that I saw a tree far more beautiful than any I had seen before. With all of the grace of a willow and the resolution of the oak.

"They called it a sakura tree and the flowers that grew from it were the same color as your lovely locks," the woman said, reaching out to gently brush a few stray strands of hair from the Little Sister's forehead. The Little Sister could see it in her head as the woman described the petals blowing in the wind, more beautiful and friendlier than snow. "Your name, little one, if you would have it, is Sakura."

The Little Sister felt like she had changed then and there. A name all her own.

"Sakura," she said the word slowly, feeling each syllable fall from her mouth. "My name is Sakura." The woman covered her wide smile with a hand.

"Do you like it?" she asked, excitement evident in her voice. Sakura nodded quickly with a wide smile of her own.

"I do, thank you," Sakura said with a respectful bow of her head. A thought occurred to her then. "What's your name?" she asked.

"When I roamed the deserts, they called me Shabh. In the North forests, they called me Draugur." The woman trailed off, a hint of regret tinging her voice. "I've forgotten more names than I think I ever had of my own."

"You said that you were an orphan, yes?" she asked gently after a moment. Sakura nodded, having long gotten used to the idea of not knowing her parents unlike the other girls that had heads full of memories. "I'm an orphan, too," the woman said, "I have long since forgotten any family I may have had." A playful gleam came to her eye. "Since we are both alone in this world, why don't we share the same far away land?" she asked.

"Okay," Sakura replied, eager to have another connection to her new friend.

"In this far away land, there was a great field of tall grass that was practically a sea in its own right. I lived in that field for a long time, dancing under the stars and sleeping in the shade of old trees. I do not remember if the field had a name or became named for me, but they called it Ino. So that is what you may call me, if you wish."

"Ino," Sakura said, testing this new name out as well. "It's very pretty." Ino smiled again.

"Not as pretty as Sakura, I think." Ino reached out to gently pat the back of Sakura's hand. So enamored with her new name and new friend, Sakura paid no mind to Ino's dirt-lined, sharp nails. Sakura hissed in a breath through her teeth and fell onto her bottom from her crouched position as Ino gasped. The offending hand flew to Ino's mouth. The scratch was shallow, but stung fiercely, a little ruby of blood leaking from one end.

"Oh, my dear flower," Ino whimpered, "Please, forgive me. I can kiss it better." Ino stretch one arm out as far as the bars would allow, Sakura just out of reach. Sakura looked up from the scratch to her friend and felt the breath catch in her throat. Ino's smile was gone and a decidedly unfriendly look appeared in her eyes that reminded Sakura of the cats that chased the rats through the monastery. It was a mean look. A hungry look.

"I- I need to go," Sakura stammered, climbing to her feet. "Th-the priestess might know I- I'm gone now." She had barely moved a step when Ino hissed.

"At least let me look at it!" Her nails raked the air like she could pull Sakura back by that alone. Sakura felt a clawing fear in her belly and turned tail, fleeing across the gardens as quickly as she could.

"Come back! I'm sorry..."

Ino's harsh whisper rang in her ears all the way back to her bed where she shivered and hid beneath the covers for the rest of the night.


Several days passed before Sakura returned to Ino's window.

Sakura threw herself into her daily chores. As long as she kept moving...

As long as she kept scrubbing the floors in the main transept with the other girls. As long as she kept sweeping the shady little cloisters in the North courtyard. As long as she helped peel the vegetables for their dinner. As long as she did all in her power to make the gardens as beautiful as they could be.

Morning and evening prayer became impossible.

In the quiet times when she was to be still and offer her thoughts to the gods, her only thoughts were of a dark window surrounded by the bittersweet smell of the St. John's wort. Sakura imagined that Ino was even lonelier now that she hadn't come to visit since that night. The guilt weighed heavily on her mind one night as a cruel and cold wind made the gaps in the windows whistle.

Slipping out of bed and taking one of the two blankets off of her bed, Sakura made her way to the South courtyard. The wind was bitter and wild and made her pull her plain robes more tightly around herself. She paused briefly on the way to the St. John's wort to pluck a single flower from the gardens and whisper fervent apologies to the gods. Ino's window was no more or less threatening than it had been previously. The moon hung in the sky at such an angle that the moon beams fell directly on the bars. But Sakura found herself still hesitant, remembering the look in Ino's eyes. She knelt down and called out quietly.

"Ino?" The only reply was the cry of the wind and a single lone cricket. She peered into the window, but could see nothing beyond the small patch of light that touched the bare stone floor. "Ino?" she tried again, a little louder this time.

Silence

Sakura began rolling the blanket tightly, ready to push it and her plucked flower through the bars, when the whisper came from the darkness.

"Little flower, you came back."

Sakura jumped and peered through the bars, Ino's pale, ghostly face barely visible in the dark beyond the moonlight.

"I- I thought you might be cold," Sakura said, holding the blanket up in offering. Ino drifted closer, her thin face glowing in silver, making the ugly purple bruise on her cheek that more prominent. She tilted her head, an odd expression on her face.

"You thought I would be cold?" she asked. Sakura nodded and helped feed the rolled up blanket through the bars. Ino held it like it was a priceless relic before folding it to close her chest. "Thank you."

"I, um, brought you this, too," Sakura said, holding out a bright yellow daffodil. Ino's eyes widened as Sakura came right up to the bars and carefully maneuvered the flower through. If Ino had thought the blanket to be some great treasure, then she looked at the flower like she was viewing a piece of essential life.

"The priestesses say that flowers have their own language and each flower means something different," Sakura explained as Ino gently plucked the flower from her hand. "Daffodils are for forgiveness. They say 'let's put the past behind us and begin again.'"

"Do they?" Ino asked, her voice soft. She lifted the flower and filled her nose with its scent, eyes fluttering closed.

"I'm sorry I didn't have a bowl of water for you to put it in," Sakura apologized. Ino looked up, her smile torn between gratitude and sadness, and shook her head.

"All good things die, sooner or later. Not even flowers are meant to last forever," Ino replied, smelling the flower again. "I'm sorry I hurt you, little flower. I...lost myself," she continued, her voice falling low.

"It didn't hurt so much," Sakura said, turning her hand over to show the almost totally healed mark. "You just...frightened me, that's all." Ino slipped her hand through the bars and gently took Sakura's hand in her own. Sakura could not feel that Ino's hand was like a block of ice as her own fingers were starting to go numb in the unseasonably chill wind.

"Then I'm sorry that I scared you, as well. And I swear upon my own life that I will never cause you harm or fear again," Ino said firmly. She gazed up at the moon and seemed to think. "You should return to your bed, little flower. The night wear on and it's far too cold out. But," she trailed off with a smile, "I have more stories to share with you, if you would stop by another time."


And so became their routine.

Whenever Sakura could sneak away, whether shirking her duties to do so or late under the moon, she learned of the world outside the walls of her home.

Every night, Ino would have a new and exciting story for her, some so favorable that Sakura would ask for repeat tellings every now and then. And every time, Ino looked like nothing could make her happier.

The tales Ino spun could have filled a hundred books as near as Sakura could reckon. She spoke of far off lands that were forever covered by snow, where even the bears had white fur to help them hide. Massive ships were places of excitement and danger as swords clashed and cannonballs roared. Open-air bazaars that wavered under the hot sun and over blazing sand. Quiet forests for the dead to rest and the spirits to wander. Long forgotten mountain-top shrines to gods that no one could remember. And through them all, there was more love and heart break that could not be captured by even the greatest poem or-

"What is poetry?" Sakura had asked one night in the middle of the story. Ino's eyes had widened in shock.

"You don't know poetry, little flower?" she had asked incredulously. When Sakura shook her head, Ino gathered her thoughts and took a deep breath:

So, we'll go no more a roving

So late into the night,

Though the heart be still as loving,

And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,

And the soul wears out the breast,

And the heart must pause to breathe,

And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,

And the day returns too soon,

Yet we'll go no more a roving

By the light of the moon.

"Is all poetry sad, Ino?" Sakura had asked, eyes glistening.

"No, not all of it, little flower," Ino had replied, wiping away the one tear that escaped to roll down Sakura's cheek. Ino spent the rest of their time speaking of the joys of love; how when you love someone, you feel like you could float away. How a kiss could set every nerve in the body on fire, turning an already floating body into a star.

And Sakura asked.

"A kiss," Ino said, beckoning Sakura close, cupping warm cheek in icy hand and pulling her in, "is something like this." And Sakura felt her nerves blaze.

Some nights, Ino would not appear in her window. Sakura had very little sleep on those nights, fearing that Ino was gone, or worse still there and ignoring her. After bonding so tightly to her, Sakura found it all the more painful to be alone even though she was surrounded by her other sisters.

But Ino would always be back the next night, sporting bruises or refusing to hold Sakura's hand for days even though it was requested. Sakura asked repeatedly why and how. And for three years, Ino refused...until...

"They fear me," Ino said quietly, staring with her one good eye at the central tower of the monastery. Sakura had wept at seeing the angry wound Ino had tried to hide behind her golden hair. "But fear not, my little flower. Some day, I will be free of these bars and I will take you from this place, if you so wish, and you will see everything I've told you of. I'll show you how to fly away."

Three more years passed and though Ino would forever refer to Sakura as 'her little flower,' Sakura had grown into a beautiful young woman. A beautiful, and restless, young woman.

"There must be something I can do to help," Sakura insisted one night. The smile that crossed Ino's lips screamed volumes.

"There is, actually. How dearly do you love your gods, my little flower?"


It is late in the night and Sakura is out of the dormitory, though this is nothing new for her.

What is new, however, is the path she intends to take.

Much like the South tower, the central tower was forbidden to the sisters, young and old, until they became priestesses. The central tower was unlike anything Sakura had seen in the monastery. Unlike the bare stone floors she was used to, thick plush carpets kept her feet warm and silent as she crept through the dark halls, climbing staircase after staircase. Beautiful painting adorned the walls, showcasing crystal oceans and sun-dappled forests and fields that seemed to blaze in setting suns.

It was staggering.

Before they had departed the last night, Ino had told her what to expect. That the High Priest and priestesses lived like royalty while the sisters scurried to their demands and lived like the poor.

"The gods they ask you to love are but creations of their own devising so you'll keep their home pretty and their gardens blooming. I tried to stop them, before they put me in here. They fear me, the fear us, Sakura."

Ino's words echoed in hear ears as she mounted the final steps to the top floor. If the stairs and floors below were for royalty, then the top floor was for a god. Golden chandeliers hung above, all but a few of their candles snuffed to fortuitously light her way forward. True to Ino's word, the High Priest slept with his door unlocked.

"To allow the priestesses out when he's done with them," Ino supplied with an angry sneer when asked why.

The High Priest's chambers were lavish beyond anything Sakura could have imagined, even with Ino's stories whirling through her head. Thick purple drapes hung over the tall windows, obscuring all but the thinest sliver of moonlight. In one corner stood a mighty desk of dark wood. As Sakura crept forward, she thought she could hear voices coming from the door at the other end. Throwing caution to the wind, Sakura pressed her ear to the thick wood unable to make out anything but the bass rumble of the High Priest and the higher voice of a priestess. It sounded like the priestess might have been weeping.

Sakura hurried away from the door, dread blooming in her stomach as her face reddened. Ino had described what happened behind closed bedroom doors and took great care in warning her exactly what happened behind the door of the High Priest.

The key Sakura sought was on a large ring with two other keys, precisely as Ino had described; and she would need all three.

"Take the path along the wall when you come out. There is a door there that leads into the tower."

"Try not to pay attention to the room you encounter behind that door," Ino had warned, touching her own cheek beneath her ruined eye.

Sakura kept low behind the crenelations on the wall as she made her way to the door. The first key she tried had it open on oiled hinges. Sakura kept Ino's advice and made for the door on the other side as quickly as she could. But she still saw the iron table on one side and sharp instruments hanging from the walls on the other. Hot anger flared in her belly as she unlocked the second door and took the spiral staircase down. All her life, it had been lies. The door at the bottom had a barred window, and much like her other experience with barred windows, Ino's face floated in it.

"Little flower," Ino smiled widely, teeth Sakura had found long ago shiny and sharp. Sakura turned the final key and threw herself into Ino's waiting arms.

"There's just one last thing to do before we can fly away," Ino murmurred in Sakura's ear. Sakura didn't care. Anything to finally fly away.


The return trip through the halls was far easier with Ino striding beside her. Ino didn't seem the least bit concerned with staying hidden, though she seemed to have no trouble doing so. Whenever Sakura would glance at her, Ino had found the darkest shadows to pass through; even her golden locks refused to catch the moonlight.

On the top floor, the door to the High Priest's room swung open briefly to allow a priestess into the hall. Ino pushed Sakura into the corner and stood in front of her, a finger raised to her companions lips. Sakura watched in amazement over Ino's shoulder as the priestess passed directly behind, wiping at her tear-streaked face, and completely ignoring the two women in the corner.

"How?" Sakura mouthed when the priestess made it to the stairs. Ino smiled.

"I may be weak, but I'm not powerless," she whispered back. But then her face grew pensive as she glanced down the hall. "Little flower, I would ask you not to follow me in there." Ino cupped Sakura's cheek and met her verdant eyes with her single cerulean. "I would prefer you not see what has to happen." Sakura felt her stomach sink and her heart flutter in panic. Traversing the halls with Ino had left her feeling fearless. The thought of being alone in these darkened halls again after seeing a priestess walking them...

"B-but what if-" Sakura began before Ino cut her off kiss. Sakura wanted to float and drift among the sparse stars of the chandeliers.

"I will be back, little flower. And even if you should be found, I promise that nothing will come of it once I'm finished," Ino whispered against Sakura's lips and kissed her again before pulling away and gliding down the hall. Sakura pressed more tightly into the corner and waited, the silence pressing heavily on her, sound only muffled further by the carpets and drapes surrounding her.

Time seemed to drag as she stared into the darkness where Ino had vanished and the nervousness gripping at her innards flared. With no warning,there was a tremendous crash from down the hall and the High Priest's door was smashed to flinders. The High Priest himself followed, falling on his back, face and neck smeared with blood. He rolled over, moaning, his attempt to crawl away halted by a long-nailed hand dragging him back into the room.

"No! N-" his cries cut off with a thick gurgling. The silence had returned once more, punctuated by thick slurping sounds that made the hairs on the back of Sakura's neck stand on end. Despite Ino's request, Sakura wandered forth and peered through the door. The sight that met her had her gasping, hand flying to her mouth.

Ino on her knees at the High Priest's side, her face buried in the torn and bloodied ruin of his throat. Ino whipped her head up, sensing Sakura's presence at the door. She was on her feet in a flash, delivering a strong kick to the corpse that put it on its face. She tried to wipe the blood away from her mouth, but succeeded in only smearing it further. The look in her eyes was almost like guilt.

Eyes!

"Ino!" Sakura rushed forward, skipping around the body and catching Ino's face in her hands, staring into two pale, glowing blue eyes. With a start, Sakura realized it wasn't the only thing different. Beneath the blood, her face was fuller and soft, cheeks no longer like those of a starving woman. The black circles that had ringed her eyes were gone as well, and her eyes held a gleam that Sakura had not seen before. Triumph.

Ino had been beautiful before, but now she was mesmerizing. Even with blood on her lips and staining her teeth as she unleashed a macabre smile.

"I just needed a decent meal, little flower," she said, pulling out of Sakura's grasp. She crossed to the bedroom and returned carrying a thick, dark robe over one arm. She beckoned Sakura to follow lead her to one of the tall windows and pushed it open, stepping out onto a balcony that overlooked the South courtyard.. A warm and gentle breeze carried over them, ruffling their hair and carrying the scent of thousands of flowers. Sakura felt her stomach seize as Ino stepped up onto the railing and took a deep breath.

"Come up, Sakura." She held Sakura's hand and helped her keep balance as she climbed up. "Are you ready to fly?" she asked, gripping Sakura's hand tightly. Sakura felt her nerves disappate at the sound of Ino's voice and the feel of her hand in her own. She nodded.

"I won't let you fall, little flower."

They stepped off the edge together.


The little valley they settled in was host to a thin little stream that burbled over smooth rocks. Without waiting for permission, Sakura tore a strip from Ino's discarded rags, ignoring her amused smile, and wetting the cloth in the water.

"What service," Ino giggled as Sakura began to clean the blood from her face. Sakura shushed her and Ino leaned back against the tall yew tree that they had taken rest under. Slowly, shining skin became clean, the entire time both of them unable to break the gaze they shared. Ino took the cloth when Sakura was satisfied and gave her teeth a quick scrub before tossing it aside. Their lips met again when Ino pulled Sakura to her lap and taught her the finer points of the kiss.

"Does it hurt?" Sakura asked quietly after what felt like eternity condensed to a single moment had passed. She saw the High Priest laying dead on the floor in a bloody mess. Ino shook her head.

"No, it doesn't have to," Ino replied, running her hand over Sakura's hair. Sakura felt much of her anxiety disappate, though...

"And I'll see you when I wake up again?"

There was a flash of some emotion across Ino's features that Sakura was unable to read and as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Ino took Sakura's face in her hands, gently stroking her cheek with her thumb.

"I swear on my life, that you will find me again. So long as you never give up looking." Sakura felt the tension in her stomach again. But all the same, she nodded.

"I'll never give up," she swore. Ino stared into her eyes and saw the determination there formed from iron and nodded. She slipped her arms around Sakura and pulled her close, nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

"I love you, little flower," Ino whispered against Sakura's skin. Sakura looped her arms around Ino's shoulders, threading her fingers into her hair.

"I love you, too."

With a kiss planted over Sakura's carotid, Ino opened her mouth and sank her teeth into the artery. Sakura gasped, tensing at the two white-hot lancets of pain before it faded away to a dull ache, her vision already blurring and going dark. Without realizing, she was on her back, the stars twinkling through the branches of the tree winking out one by one.

As sound fell away, replaced by a darkly comforting silence, she heard Ino whisper.

"Sleep tight, little flower."

And the final sensation Sakura felt was the brush of Ino's lips across her own before the dark claimed her.


Absence makes the heart grow fonder as Sakura quickly found out.

She pounded quickly down the packed Manhattan sidewalk, hands in her pockets, her stride purposeful and determined.

She was so close now.

When she woke beneath the yew tree four hundred years earlier, Ino was long gone, having had a week to gain a lead. But on the horizon was the silver star that was Ino's presence, burning like a tower of white phosphorus.

And Sakura began walking.

It was not immediately obvious to her, but Ino was leading her; guiding her across the world. Across the mountains and desert and churning foam of the sea, Sakura found the land of peculiar things. She lived there for more years than she could recall and danced as Ino had beneath the drifting sakura petals and in the field of tall grass. Every night, watching Ino move a little more across the horizon.

Every story Ino had told and retold had been true. The open-air market under the hot sun and over blazing sand. The massive ships were far more civilized by the time Sakura found them, but were no less thrilling in the high winds of a storm. Far North, she found the land of perpetual snow and walked the icy, halcyon shores of frozen lakes and oceans.

Sakura wandered as Ino had, journeying across the crossroads at the four compass points and beyond. Ino was showing her the world as she had seen it. And as much as Sakura wished to journey it with Ino, or as much as she hoped to awaken one night and see Ino next to her, she was thankful for that.

"Not even flowers are meant to last forever."

Ino's words echoed through her head every day and through the night. Every story and every poem seared into her brain like the memory of Ino's smile and the taste of her kiss. But those words stood out the most, because they were wrong.

Sakura had walked for lifetimes and saw things most only ever got to dream of with a goal that would never expire. The fiery star on the horizon had tempered her to steel. And the pressing memories of a touch, a kiss, and a love turned her heart to diamond.

Sakura had become the undying flower. All for her.

Sakura stopped outside the fancy, upscale restaurant on the corner, the outer walls more glass than stone or steel. Sakura could not see through to the second floor where Ino was sitting, but she didn't need to. The entire building glowed like a bonfire with Ino's presence. She passed through into the lobby, brushing by others waiting in line and ignoring the insistence of the hostess that she wait to be seated.

"Someone is waiting on me, reservation for two," Sakura told the bewildered woman, gesturing up at the balcony that ringed the walls and pointing at the woman with the long golden hair. The hostess flipped open her little log book to check and grudgingly let Sakura walk herself to the table when the claim checked out.

Sakura mounted the stairs, butterflies she hadn't felt in centuries awakening in her belly. Ino was sitting facing away from the stairs which allowed Sakura the luxury of surprise, though she knew Ino wouldn't be. The red strapless dress Ino wore allowed Sakura to trail her fingers over bare shoulder as she moved around to take the seat on the other side. Ino had looked up at Sakura's touch, a smile touching red painted lips that turned into a small smirk at Sakura's attire.

Though she didn't much care, Sakura had to admit that if she knew she would find Ino here of all places, she would have dressed in something nicer than denim and leather. She reached out and took Ino's hand in both of her own, lifting it to press her lips to Ino's skin.

"I've missed you," she murmurred against Ino's fingers. Ino rose from her seat to lean across the small table and deliver a kiss four-hundred years too late. She sat down and sipped at something dark red and thick in her glass, pale eyes glowing playfully.

"So, what kept you, my Sakura?"


But I believe in love

and I know that you do too.

And I believe in some kind of path

that we can walk down, me and you.