Author's Note: I'm actually not too sure what to say about this one. See, I was re-reading Forgive But Never Forget by mrie and her style of writing is one that I really, really enjoy reading. And then I was reading the newest fic written by Paige O.o (I can't remember the name for the life of me). And DING! I was hit by inspiration. So I hope that someone out there likes this because I've stayed up late to post it and because I'm not too sure if I really like it... I just don't know what I think of this... Let me know??
Inspirator: Paige O.o for the plot, mrie for the writing style
Inspiration: "Should we have kept chasing you?"
Disclaimer: I'm trying to figure out what I actually DO own. I'm not coming up with too much.
She froze when she saw him. He wasn't supposed to be there. Hell, he had last been sighted in the Water Country – he had no business to stand in the snow and stare back at her. But it didn't matter how many times she blinked her green, green eyes and it didn't matter how many times she told herself he shouldn't be there; he was.
She doesn't blink, doesn't breathe, and doesn't dare hope for the best. She only gawks and waits for something to happen; something that she doesn't want to happen (but she does need it to happen).
The snow continues to fall and the breeze continues to dance and the time still refuses to move.
It is easy, she thinks, to imagine that they are alone in the world. That – in the deep, white, desolate landscape of the Snow Country – they are truly the only two people on Earth.
And since they are very much alone, she gathers her strength and her courage and says,
"It's been thirteen years since you left."
Her voice isn't what he expected. It isn't shaky or fearful or uncertain or frightened. But it isn't regretful or overwhelmed or joyful or giddy either. It is simply her voice. And both are grateful for its natural and neutral sound.
"I know."
His voice isn't what she expected. It isn't cold or icy or blank or uncaring. But it isn't cocky or superior or powerful or dangerous. It is simply his voice. And both are grateful for its natural and neutral sound.
"It's been eight years since you disappeared." She states.
"It's been eight years since you stopped looking for me." He corrects. And he's right; she knows he's always been right.
She almost wants to tell him that Naruto still wonders about his whereabouts, still feels the urge to rush head-first into whatever country he was last sighted in, still wants him home. She almost wishes to let him know that there will be a ceremony in Konoha in a little over two months to celebrate the start of a Sixth Hokage's rule and that he would be welcome in the village, would be invited to the celebration, would be wanted there.
But she doesn't.
Because – for right now at least – they are the only two people who exist; the only two people who matter. News of Naruto will reach his ears one way or another.
She is surprised when he asks, "Why did you stop?"
It is not the question that surprises her, nor the fact that he asked her a question without any prompts or pushing to engage him in a conversation. What surprises her is the natural emotion that has been etched into the query. She hears a natural tone of curiosity and bitterness in his words and it comforts her to know that he is human still.
But the comfort he brings her does not ease the shame that eats away at her heart; the same shame that has eaten away at her very being ever since she lost hope eight years ago.
"Should I have kept chasing you?"
She wants him to say no. She wants him to tell her that she couldn't have brought him back no matter how long she chased, no matter how hard she tried. She wants him to say that he was a lost cause, that she was right to lose faith in him. She needs him to tell her those things because otherwise the guilt and the shame and the self-loathing and the pain will eat her alive.
"No."
She does not blink, does not breathe, and does not dare hope for the best. Because she knows that there is more to that reply then what first appears.
"But sometimes, I wish you had."
He proves her right and she wishes that he never had because her heart lurches and rips and tears and screams that she is a fool and she can feel herself being torn to pieces. Pain and regret and selfishness and denial all gnaw at her soul while 'what-ifs' and 'could-have-beens' and 'maybe-back-thens' brutally attack her mind. She can feel herself being lost and vaguely wonders if she is dying. But she scoffs and tells herself that she is being silly; she has already been dying for the past eight years.
Despite her inner turmoil, she still stands tall and never wavers in her upright stance. Her body becomes a fortress; keeping her personal chaos in while she keeps any more from entering and she hardly feels human anymore.
She doesn't blink, doesn't breathe, and doesn't dare hope for the best when he kisses her. Because blinking, breathing and hoping for the best are all things a human would do and she no longer is a human. She has transformed herself into a pathetic shroud of the human existence. But she casts aside that fact and allows herself to kiss him back while it can still mean something.
Their embrace is broken much too soon and so they enter a second round which is then followed by a third. He does not allow them to embrace a ninth time.
"I'm sorry." He whispers.
"Goodbye." She understands.
But she still blinks, breathes, and hopes for the best before she screams at her own stupidity. While she blinked, breathed, and hoped, he had vanished.
Author's Note: So yeah... Not the happiest story in all of but not the worst by any stretch. I'm still not sure what I think of this one. Anyway, hope someone out there enjoyed it (and maybe I shed a few tears?? Or is that me asking for too much? -.-). Both stories that inspired this can be found under my Favorites tab.