Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto. First real SasuSaku!! Feel the angst!!! WAGHWGHHH!!
She can't see him. Can't truly see that he is there, that he has always been there, and always will be, even when he's forty, five miles away. Anytime, anyplace, he is with her and she doesn't know it.
Everyone else, it seems, accepts this unspoken message as law, and maybe that's why her father has never had any trouble beating away boys, like Ino's father does. They respect the secret bond between the ghost of a man and the only one he has distinguished as valuable.
Some had once tried to break the bond that binds them, and he showed no mercy. Quick, biting words broke down any weak efforts to steal what he held so close to the heart that did not beat. Because ghosts don't care
Can't care
about those they have left behind, and he is far too high in the twisted social ladder of the nether realms to lag behind for one that can never follow him to the new place he calls home.
And so the years pass. Girls, women, grow and change from children to kunoichi, a specialized brand of deadliness. She falls into their ranks easily, another weapon hiding under porcelain skin. She pushes and pushes until she has earned the reputation she holds today as one of the very top, the very best, instead of simply the very best in bed. She is shaped and molded by teachers, mothers, friends, until she is a perfect model, a girl at the peak of life.
And each night she wonders, "Why am I so alone?"
She still has not learned of the hidden chains that holds them fast, and her eyes, trained to be eagle sharp for her many missions, still cannot pinpoint the one that is behind her day and night.
And one day, without warning, she sees him. Tall, dark, he scares her. The tiny, almost invisible, involuntary shudder triggers a smirk, because her eyes have been forced open, and she is afraid of what she sees. He likes it, relishes the next time they meet, so he can force another spark of fear into those blind, all seeing eyes.
It takes three years of carefully maneuvering superiors into a perfect position, one that came for deals under the table, trust broken, and a secret trail of bodies, until he is sure where she will be and he can be there at the same time. And when he finds her, the situation is better than he could have hoped for.
But he stopped having hope a long, long time ago.
She is pinned back against a tree, five larger shinobi slowly circling towards her blood streaked body. They aren't anywhere close to her skill level, but the numbers give them an advantage, and they press it to the limit. He appears the moment it seems she will finally die. A quick fury of hand seals, five simultaneous slams as bodies hit the cold earth, and he stands before her, a cold smile dancing around lips that haven't laughed in years.
Child like eyes, the only visible sign left untouched by years of harshness and death, widen at the sight of the most elusive of any ghost standing before her. It doesn't look real, it doesn't feel real, but she is real, the blood on her shirt is definitely real, but the look of annoyance in his dark eyes seems to be surreal when she flinches away from his cold, cold hand against her cheek. She shivers from his slightest touch. Why is he so cold?
He hasn't felt a warm touch, the feel of skin to skin, in years. Yet why is she the one to shy away?
He ignores the way she can't meet his gazes and the way her eyes flirt from his interrogating face to the ground, and takes another step forwards, further pinning her against the rough bark of the tree. She pulls out a kunai, ready to stop him, ready to fight away this sick ghost, this abomination, that she never truly knew or loved.
He is the ghost; she is alive inside. Why can he still see right through her, while he is such a mystery hidden in the shadows?
The bark scratching into her shirt is nothing compared to the way his lips press against hers. It isn't the first kiss she fantasized at sleepovers and in daydreams. There are no singing angels, no fireworks or bells. Just rough lips and hands, pale flickers of moonlight breaking through the dark leaves, and a feeling of euphoria. There is no turning back.
The last checkpoint was miles ago. The last traces of normality faded into darkness, and her eyes have adjusted, maybe forever.
Something, and she doesn't know what it is or where it came from, but it flickers to life, and she pushes back and rises to the challenge he has presented. His hands skim over never before seen skin, and the most primal urges inside of them both howl with the raw thrill and the moment of pent-up feelings finally surfacing.
His mouth and lizard tongue drops lower and lower, and for a moment, all time and breathing stops, only to be resumed faster, harder, more desperate, and the silent woods echo with the sounds of identical moans.
By now, she's stripped off his shirt and pants, and he has done away with her flimsy shirt and tight black shorts. He wants to bite off the annoying clasp on the front of her plain white bra, but she beats him to the punch and pulls it off in one fluid motion, along with her panties. And he grins what could only be the feral grin of a wild cat, and tears off his boxers.
Insert implied sex scene here.
She lies back on his chest, and he plays with her pink hair, and she hopes, prays to any god that has ever been, that they can stay like this for just one moment longer. And for moment after moment they do, and the tears of pain she once felt are nothing compared to the joy in her broken heart. And as she rolls off him, tracing that flawless skin, she feels a quick squeeze on her hand. And as she looks back to the only man she has ever truly loved, he fades away, like the faintest echo of a dream.
There's no such thing as ghosts.
And she screams, oh god the screaming, and she kicks and claws the ground begging for him to come back to her, to return for just one more minute so she can see those black eyes or gaze upon that perfect body. But the gods and the earth cannot grant her this one wish, and she beats and scratches the tree and earth until warm hands grab tightly to her shoulder and calm her back to sanity.
And she looks up, expecting to see the only man that could ever calm her down with one quick touch. But no hard, icy face stares back. Only the concerned worried expression of Naruto and Kakashi, and she breaks into tears once more. Naruto pulls her into a comforting embrace and strokes her hair, like she was still a little girl.
"Shhhh, it's ok, it's ok, we're here, we've got you." And she fights away from him because he doesn't understand that he can't fix what's wrong with sweet words or false promises. He stares reassuringly into her big, tear filled green eyes and says the words she wants to believe are a lie.
"It's okay; you were just having a nightmare." And she slaps him harder than ever before because he's lying, lying, lying, because her feelings can't be just a dream.
And she screams into the night, at both of them, "It wasn't a nightmare! It wasn't a dream and it wasn't a lie! It was a ghost, I swear, it was a ghost!"