project: Fifty Days
disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, or the characters in it.
dedication: to blue, whom has always been a star, and will continue to be. to all of the people who've reviewed, and to the aag girls.
chapter: 12/5o
summary: "In fifty days, Uchiha Sasuke will be executed." For fifty days, she will visit him. For fifty days, he will fall steadily in love.
notes1:
guys, i am so sorry, again. (i promise, at some point, i will update with the speed that i used to — but i guess things have just gotten haywire.) but, uhm, here comes the update — a little later than usual. plus, i sort of ended up obsessed with the authors appreciation guild, which is the awesome new forum i post in — it's going to end up being a beautiful way to help writers improve, considering the amount of helpful guides there'll be.
i just realised; looking back, at chapter 7, i was squealing about 101 reviews — and i didn't even make a joke about dalmatians. WHAT A LOST OPPURTUNITY.
but, what i'm trying to say is thank you. you guys are the reasons why i feel guilty at night; because, you all take the time to review, and i'm so lazy it takes me weeks to update. so, just for you guys, the sasuhina moments should get much longer.
so, enjoy!
:)
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Hinata had insisted on doing the shopping, despite the fact that the morning was cold and sharp, and the clouds were quickly turning grey.
She had insisted, despite the fact that there would usually be a branch member who would do those so-called demeaning chores — her father had raised an eyebrow, but had otherwise remained silent. She had, after all, been rather forceful about the entire thing, when Neji had told her he was going out to train with Lee, anyway, and that he would pass the marketplace on his way back from his sparring session. She had firmly, but politely, shaken her head; then, without letting anyone protest any further, Hinata had grabbed her coat and left the building.
In reality, she wanted to escape the Hyuuga compound — ever since returning from her mission, she had been almost constantly hounded by Hanabi. Her sister — who had yet to take part on a B-rank mission — would almost always ask her as many questions as possible about her missions; and Hinata would try and answer them to the best of her ability, without giving away classified information.
She thought it was cute, in all honesty; every now and then, she would forget, but her sister was only a young. The prospect of higher ranked missions excited and intrigued her — the only reason she didn't ask Neji, who was quite frequently handed A-rank, or higher, missions, was because their relationship wasn't at all strong. Occasionally, they would spar, but they very rarely talked; which was sad, but understandable.
They were far too similar to get along.
Hinata shook her head, smiling slightly, as she reached for the apples — she inspected a couple, searching for bruises, before handing three to the stall owner. He nodded gratefully, placing them in a brown paper bag, and she passed over a few coins, dropping them into his outstretched hand. He passed her the bag, and she bowed her head in thanks, before moving over to the next fruit stall, picking up some oranges.
She continued in that fashion, picking up fruit after fruit — discarding some, such as the bananas and kiwis, as no one really ever ate them — and choosing others, grasping some peaches and a bag of strawberries. The stall owners all nodded their thanks and, in turn, she smiled hers back at them.
Her fingers brushed against a tomato.
For a few seconds, she pictured Sakura, grasping the glass tomato so tightly it hurt, the tears rolling down her face. For a few seconds, she hesitated, simply holding the red fruit in her hand. The owner raised an eyebrow, obviously waiting for her to make a move — when Hinata simply stood frozen in place, the old woman sighed, and moved away to a different customer. Briefly, Hinata wondered how the pink-haired kunoichi was doing — and she felt a slight flash of guilt run through her. She had been unnecessarily harsh, when dealing with the other girl, and she regretted it now — she wondered, at all, if it had helped her.
And then, just as quickly, her mind flickered to Naruto.
"…Naruto…"
She had last seen him just over a week ago, and, back then, his voice had been filled with sadness, and his eyes had been empty. He had been a wreck. It had shocked and confused her; and, in that brief moment, she had realised just what Sasuke meant to him.
She juggled the tomato in the palm of her hand.
Did she really know how they felt? Oh, of course she could imagine the pain they were going through; but did she really understand? Team 7 had been ripped apart — torn so badly, that no amount of thread could stitch them back together again. They had become strangers, chasing after memories of each other. She was certain that no matter how brilliant her imagination was, she would never understand that.
She tried to picture Shino disappearing — or Kiba. She tried to picture going to their training ground, each day, and knowing that one of them would be missing — she tried to picture seeing one without the other. She tried to see herself walking past Ichiraku Ramen, seeing glimpses of a person who had vanished sat on one of the stools — she saw herself walking past the Academy, and all of the memories that would resurface. She would see their families, every single day — she would see things which reminded them of her; maybe a yapping dog, or a buzzing bug.
She knew she would see them in everything around her.
No — no matter how much she tried to picture Shino, or Kiba, disappearing, she just couldn't. It was one of those things which she was certain would never happen to her — it was unthinkable. Their relationship was different to the one Team 7 had — there had always been an undertone of static running through them, as though they were walking time bombs. Even Sakura had had something about her — something unpredictable — when she was around Sasuke or Naruto.
Anything could have set any one of them off.
Naruto could have been the one who left.
Hinata's fist tightened ever so slightly around the fruit.
The stall owner wandered back over, rubbing her wrinkled hands on her apron. She frowned, before leaning forwards, peering at Hinata. "Listen, Miss; you certainly do look as though you've got a lot on your mind but, unless you're going to buy that, I'd really like it if you could just walk on by."
Hinata's eyes widened and she apologised hastily, getting ready to replace the tomato — after all, no one in her household ate the things, and, as far as she knew, she wasn't going to need them for any cooking. But, no matter what her head said, she was doing differently; her hand clutched the tomato tightly, squeezing it too much, so that it began to split. Without really realising it, she raised her other hand, and smiled.
"I'd like a bag of t—tomatoes, please."
The stall owner nodded, her lips splitting into an aged grin. She pulled a paper bag out of her apron and scooped up a few of the tomatoes; within a few seconds, coins and thanks were being exchanged. When Hinata continued down the road, she was stilling holding the tomato — it had split completely, and her hands were sticky.
Without really thinking, she raised the fruit to her lips and took a bite.
"Yuck," she mumbled, chewing the tomato slowly — but still she took another bite, her face twisting in disgust. When the tomato was gone, she sucked the juice from her fingers, balancing her bags in her other arm.
Her eyes flickered to the paper bag filled with the red fruit.
And she smiled.
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Sakura brushed her fingers through her hair, staring at her reflection in the mirror.
The bags under her eyes could be covered up easily with make-up, but at least her cheeks weren't damp with tears. Her skin was still pretty pale, and almost sickly looking, but she hadn't felt the need to eat that much, lately; after her sparring session with Shikamaru, she had looked practically like her old self again, her cheeks flushed with excitement and life.
But, lately…
She shook her head, willing the negative thoughts to disappear; idly, she realised she hadn't seen much of Naruto, and wondered how he was doing. In those few seconds, she felt selfish — she hadn't once thought of her teammate, and best friend; but, she argued, it wasn't as though he'd been banging on her door, was it?
Almost as soon as she thought those words, she felt guilty — no, he was just as hurt as she was, if not more. Sasuke had always seemed to click with Naruto; whereas, he'd always seen her as a nuisance. An annoyance. Her heart fell at the idea, even now, after all those years; she thought of the moment when they'd met again, briefly, at Orochimaru's hideout, and wondered if he'd seen any change in her — or had she been the same girl she'd always been, frozen in his presence, with both love and fear?
Had he seen anything else in her?
She chuckled slightly, shaking her head again — probably not, actually. Boys were dense; Naruto proved that, especially considering how obvious Hinata's adoration for him was. No, boys were completely and utterly dense,and Sasuke was no different. No amount of years apart would change that.
There was a knock at her door.
Sakura sighed, gazing at the mirror for a moment longer, before turning and heading out of the bathroom — she walked briskly down the small hallway of her flat, pausing briefly to hang a fallen coat back on the rack, and then swung open the door. She was quite surprised to see Sai stood there, a sketch book tucked under one hand and what looked like a shopping bag clasped in the other. His lips curled into their usual thin grin, and he tilted his head slightly, black hair flopping down across his forehead.
For a few seconds, she closed her eyes, and it was Sasuke stood there.
"Sakura," Sai spoke, and the illusion shattered, "Kakashi said that if I were in the neighbourhood, I ought to check up on you. So, here I am."
Sakura raised an eyebrow, glancing pointedly at the shopping bag and the sketch book — she'd never made any secret of the fact that she adored his drawings, and she knew he was secretly proud of that. He was lying, that was true — but she was glad. Sai had thought of her feelings and actually worried enough about her, to want to check up on her — Kakashi would have worried, yes, but he wouldn't have checked up on her. He was a private enough man to respect the fact that sometimes people just want to be alone.
She'd rather expected to see Naruto stood at her door, with a grin on his face and a shopping bag filled with ramen in his hand.
She sighed — there was that selfishness again.
She stepped to the side, plastering a small smile across her face, and beckoned for him to step inside — he did so, slipping off his shoes and leading her into the kitchen. He'd grown to know her flat a bit better, over the past few months, since joining Team 7; Naruto had only once let him visit his tiny flat, and so Sakura had felt it was her duty to make Sai feel welcome. At first, she'd done it begrudgingly; she hadn't really wanted to socialize with Sai, outside of work, and she'd felt as though he'd begun to realise this.
One day, he brought his sketch book around to show her — and they'd bonded over that. He truly was brilliant; each drawing looked so life-like, it was unbelievable. He'd painted the majority of them in ink — and, throughout the sketch book, she'd spotted people she recognised. There was a painting of Ino, hair down, sprawled across a bed — there was one of Shino, which had obviously been done from memory, due to the few tiny mistakes.
At the very back, Sai had drawn the old photo of Team 7; the one with her, Naruto, Kakashi and Sasuke — the one which sat beside her bed; the one she had prayed to each night, ever since Sasuke left.
She had been struck speechless.
Sai hadn't said anything, either — he'd simply torn it out of the book and taped it to her fridge. He hadn't asked for thanks, even though she had repeatedly thanked him; for a little while, he had seemed utterly confused as to why she was doing such a thing, but he'd gone with it. She wondered if he understood yet.
It was still taped to her fridge.
He was inspecting it, when she entered the kitchen after him; he leaned forwards, hair falling briefly across his face and shielding his expression, before rocking backwards on his heels. He looked relatively satisfied. "It's still in good condition," he murmured, before raising an eyebrow at Sakura. "You look after it well."
"Thank you," she replied.
Sai folded his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter and fixing her with a pointed stare — she didn't know when he'd begun to understand emotions, but he was certainly catching on quickly. She tried to ignore his pale skin — his dark eyes — his black hair — but she couldn't; not completely, at least. He looked at her.
That look was everything Sasuke wasn't, but could have been.
He held his gaze for a moment long, before turning, ignoring her thanks, and picking up the shopping bag. He emptied the contents out on her kitchen table, ignoring her splutters of protest; after all, he didn't need to do that for her. She took a step forwards, wanting to help him out — but he looked up and froze her with the stare that was Sasuke, but wasn't — and she faltered. She stood in silence, waiting as he set out two plates and some chopsticks, alongside all of the food he'd bought — there was sashimi, wagashi and, her favourite, a few anko dumplings.
In the middle of it all, there was a bowl of tomatoes.
She felt her eyes water, but she rubbed the tears away before they could properly fall — no, she wasn't going to cry. Not after Sai had gone to all of this trouble for her. He sat down, at one side of the table, and gestured for her to sit down opposite him; he'd already placed a stick of dango on her plate.
She sat down and offered him a feeble smile. "It looks… nice."
"I wasn't sure what you liked," Sai shrugged, lips curling into his usual smile, "So I bought everything."
Sakura nodded, returning the smile, and picked up the stick of dango — she chewed slowly, trying to avoid the tomatoes. But, every now and then, they would catch her eye, and she would find herself unable to look anywhere else. Sasuke had never told anyone how much he adored the red fruit — but she had spotted him, time and time again, eating them. Naruto had once found out and, upon dragging the Uchiha to Ichiraku Ramen, had bought his friend a plate of them; Sasuke had been embarrassed, yes, but he hadn't shown it.
He'd eaten them, though, and sucked the juice off his fingers.
It was one of the only times Uchiha Sasuke had behaved like a normal teenage, with things they like and dislike — and, sat there with his plate of tomatoes, Sakura had been sure he'd enjoyed the chance.
Pale fingers closed around one of the tomatoes — and Sakura's eyes ran up the long, pale arm, until they met Sai's gaze. His smile was still there, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He placed the tomato against his lips and bit down, slowly — and she watched as he ate it, chewing carefully, as though he were savouring the taste.
When he was finished, he simply stared at her.
They sat in silence, watching each other, waiting for a move to be made — finally, after what seemed to be an age, Sakura reached forwards and plucked a tomato out of the bowl. She ate it within moments, before promptly sticking her tongue out and making a gagging sound.
"These things are disgusting," she muttered, reaching automatically for an anko dumpling, in an attempt to get rid of the taste.
Sai chuckled.
That was the closest they came to the topic of Sasuke, for the entire meal — they talked about missions, about Naruto, about training, about his art, about her medic work, and about everything except the one matter that needed to be discussed. She couldn't, and she wouldn't — not with Shikamaru, not with Sai and not with Kakashi. She would, if she ever did, only talk to Naruto, and that would be it.
That would be enough.
She didn't ask Sai to leave, once the meal was over; he helped her clear away the plates and throw away the food. When she picked up the bowl of tomatoes, she was unsure of what to do — part of her wanted to keep them and learn to love them, just like him. But she shook her head, slightly, and practically marched over to the bin — she pressed down on the foot pedal, and the lid sprang upwards.
Then, without a second thought, she threw the tomatoes away.
.
.
Sakura didn't notice, but Sai smiled — and, this time, it was a real smile.
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Hinata dropped the food supplies back at the Hyuuga household, offering Neji a feeble excuse, before leaving almost straight away. He raised his eyebrows as she left, surprised — after all, she hadn't dumped all of the bags down on the kitchen counter, and was still clutching one of the smaller ones to her chest. He wondered, briefly, if she was keeping the food inside as a snack, but discarded the thought straight away — Hinata very rarely snacked and, when she did, she wouldn't eat an entire bag of snacks.
No, she was probably going to give the food to someone else.
She walked through Konoha, swinging the bag idly by her side, unsure, at first, of who she was going to visit. She stopped by the Yamanaka flower shop, letting Ino fill her in on the latest gossip before disappearing — after all, none of it was really that interesting, to be honest. She considered going to visit Shino or Kiba, but she was almost certain both of them would be training; and, if there was one thing she didn't want to do, it was train.
For a while, she found herself walking in the direction of Naruto's flat — she hadn't seen him in a while. She wondered how he was feeling; had her pep talk done him any good or had it acted in completely the opposite manner? She found herself feeling too wary to even turn the corner, let alone knock on the door — and so she turned and headed off in the opposite direction.
She let her feet carry her aimlessly for a while, clutching the bag of tomatoes tightly; although she felt as though she was walking anywhere, deep in her heart, she knew where she was going. Eventually, she began to recognise certain places — when the village disappeared, and she was shrouded by leafy foliage, she had an inkling of where she was walking to.
When she spotted Ibiki in the distance, she couldn't deny it any longer — she was off to visit Sasuke; and she'd known she wanted to see him, ever since picking up the first tomato, back at the marketplace.
But she still didn't know why.
She found herself holding the paper bag far too tightly, as she neared Ibiki — when she was close enough to clearly see his features, she could see that one eyebrow was raised in surprise and amusement. "It's a bit early for you, isn't it, Hinata?" He asked, when she stopped beside him. "What's the big occasion?"
She smiled sheepishly.
"I, well…" She trailed off, before simply shrugging. "I didn't have m—much to do."
Ibiki seemed to notice the bag in her hand, and he reached out, gently taking it from her. It was standard procedure; he searched through the bag, checking for weapons or signs of chakra. Then, as a final precaution, he placed one hand up to his lips and attempted to release a genjutsu — nothing happened. The bag was safe; raising an eyebrow and trying to stop the amusement from showing on his face, he glanced at the contents again.
"…tomatoes, Hinata? You never struck me as a tomatoes sort of person," he murmured, "But, I'm sure you do get hungry, when visiting the Uchiha."
Her smile grew ever more sheepish.
"They're, uh… they're not for me."
He narrowed his eyes briefly, never letting the smile leave his face. "For Sasuke, huh? Isn't that a bit… cruel, Hinata? Especially for you."
At his words, she stopped walking. Ibiki continued for a moment, slowing his pace until he finally came to a halt — then, and only then, he turned slightly to face her. Upon seeing her, his lips crinkled into a proper smile; this was how she ought to be. With her legs slightly apart and her fists clenched tightly by her side, this was how Hinata ought to stay. When he saw her like this, he knew she could become a brilliant kunoichi, if only she ditched her insecurity and doubt.
Her eyes met his, and her glare was chilling.
"They're for Sasuke, Ibiki," Hinata spoke, her voice steady and firm. "They're for him to eat. He isn't a wild beast — he doesn't need to be chained up! He's not going to attack me; he's far too intelligent for that. He's… he's my age, Ibiki. He's young enough to be your son, but he's being changed up like he's a savage animal. That's… that's not right. I… I…"
She trailed off, as if remembering who she was.
Instantly, she slipped into a bow, her hair falling in front of her face. "I apologise. It w—wasn't my place to say such a thing."
She stayed like that, waiting for his response. He tilted his head, watching her for a moment — he never really understood why Hiashi wasn't proud of the girl. Sure, she wasn't physically the strongest; but, mentally, her strength was astounding. He'd heard of her risk — the way she'd thrown herself in front of Pein — and he'd heard of the way Naruto had accidentally rejected her, never taking the time to give her a true answer. She hadn't let that crush her.
If she could be as strong when it came to sparring as she was when it came to love, well… Hinata would be an incredible kunoichi.
He moved towards her, until he was stood directly in front of her — she remained still, bent over in a bow.
"Of course it wasn't your place," Ibiki replied, cheerily, "But if you don't say it, who will? Never apologise for your words and opinions, Hinata."
He clapped a hand on her back and she squeaked, straightening immediately.
"You know, I think I will let you feed Sasuke, or whatever it is you want to do," he continued, throwing his arm around Hinata's neck and ruffling her hair slightly — she let out another undignified squeak, "But only because I like you, remember."
She nodded furiously.
Ibiki took one look at her petrified expression and her flushed cheeks, and burst out into rounds of loud laughter — with his arm slung around her neck, he knew Hinata was close to letting out another little mouse squeak; but, within a few moments of him laughing, she too began to chuckle, covering her mouth with one hand, as she did so. The sight just made him laugh harder — even when having fun, she was so polite.
They walked down the road as equals, and Hinata clutched the bag of tomatoes tightly in her hand.
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"Uchiha Sasuke," Ibiki snapped, rapping briskly on the glass window, "You have a visitor."
It took a moment for his vision to clear — his head pounded, and everything outside of the glass was blurred. He felt tired, and his head ached. He tried to discretely shake his head, as though to rid himself of water, but the snort from Ibiki told him that it hadn't been at all that discrete. He squeezed his eyelids shut, counted slowly to ten, and then opened them again.
When Sasuke opened his eyes, the rushing had stopped.
Unsurprisingly, Hinata was stood in front of the glass, clutching something tightly in her hands — he squinted, and then raised an eyebrow. A little brown paper bag. He couldn't help but wonder what she was carrying. Ibiki rapped on the window again, and the noise seemed to shoot straight through Sasuke — he muttered a soft curse beneath his breath, before glancing up to meet the older man's gaze.
The bastard seemed amused.
"You're going to be on your best behaviour, right?" Ibiki taunted, a smirk plastered across his face. "After all, if you screw this up, you won't be treated again. So… be a good dog, won't you?"
He moved out of sight before Sasuke could even begin to respond to the insult — one of the ANBU sniggered, rather unprofessionally. He dimly noticed hurt flicker across his visitor's face, before vanishing entirely; but her knuckles whitened, as she clutched the bag of tomatoes. Then she too moved out of sight — and, this time, he began to hear noises, like a key being fitted into a slot. He faintly recognised a surge of chakra, red hot and electric — and, in that brief moment, he realised exactly how much he missed his chakra, and the power it had given him.
He would have sighed, but he was far too tired for that.
He tilted his head slightly, frowning as he wondered what was going on — then the door scraped open, and Hinata shuffled into the room. Almost immediately, he noticed the two ANBU members surge forwards; Ibiki, who had just moved back into view, merely shook his head at them, and beckoned for them to leave.
Hinata stood patiently in front of him.
He raised an eyebrow at her, nodding his head slightly, "…what's in the bag?"
She blinked, eyes flickering briefly down towards the paper bag — and then her face crinkled into a wide smile. She reached into the bag, pausing momentarily to select something, and then tugged out a large, ripe tomato. At first, Sasuke's eyebrows shot upwards in surprise and confusion, but then he relaxed, flashing her a sort of lopsided smirk; he'd been expecting anything — flowers, a new vase, just about anything — except for that. It was an odd choice in presents, yes, but it seemed normal.
She took a step forwards, before hesitating. "I can't, uh…" Her face seemed to light up bright red, and she bit her lip. "I can't free your h—hands…"
There was a moment of awkwardness.
"…fine," he murmured, shrugging his shoulders as best he could in his position; she smiled again, her cheeks still faintly pink, and stood so close to him that he could see every single little detail — the faint lilac in her eyes, the tiny dimple as she smiled.
It surprised him when she popped the tomato in his open mouth.
He raised an eyebrow, briefly, before biting down on the fruit — almost immediately, there was a spurt of flavour. He ate slowly, savouring the taste; sure, it wasn't as though Ibiki starved him, but he hadn't eaten anything as wonderful as tomatoes in a long time — he couldn't help but feel undoubtedly vulnerable, as though he were showing a weakness. In a way, he was. He'd abandoned his earlier mask of blankness, and he felt as though he was truly showing himself.
He was glad the ANBU weren't in the room to see.
Hinata was, however, and her eyes were wide, but she was still smiling. She moved the tomato up to his lips again, so that he could eat the other half, and her eyes never left his face. He felt naked, before her; it was almost as though she were seeing something else, that he'd tried to hide.
Once he was finished with the tomato, he shook his head, tongue flicking out to catch a bit of juice that had splashed against his cheek — Hinata dropped the paper bag gently onto the ground, and waited patiently.
He realised he wanted to talk.
"How did you know?" He asked, before he could stop himself, nodding towards the bag of tomatoes.
Hinata smiled sheepishly. "I, uhm, overheard you and Naruto talking about it, back in our a—academy days; he was teasing you, and I guess I just remembered…"
"Ah."
"You didn't s—spot me."
"No," he agreed, before chuckling softly. "You're quite stealthy."
She laughed as well, nodding slowly. "I s—suppose so; but only really when it came to N—Naruto. I used to follow him around, a lot; he was my i—inspiration, I guess, and I really l—liked him. I used to…"
She trailed off.
Sasuke merely raised an eyebrow.
"I really liked him," Hinata repeated, her eyes meeting his — and he couldn't help but wonder why she was telling him this; back in their academy days, Sasuke had, for lack of better words, barely known Hinata had existed. He'd tended to stay away from all of the girls; no matter how quiet they were, he had avoided them all, just due to the fact that it had been easier for him like that.
He wondered if he should have spoken to her, back then.
He pushed the thought to the back of his mind, finding the silence vaguely uncomfortable — he was unsure of what to say, especially when it came to romance and Naruto. In his mind, the two could never click. In his mind, the conversation was normal, but scary, all at the same time, and he had no idea what to say.
"Did you…" He trailed off. "Did you ever… tell him?"
There.
That sounded appropriate.
"Yes," Hinata answered, with what seemed to be a slightly bitter smile. "I told him, and he never answered. I think… I think he f—f—forgot. We arranged to go on a d—date, sure, but I had to remind him, and… and…"
Sasuke frowned slightly.
She let out a laugh. "This is silly," she chuckled, her face splitting into a grin — he let out a soft sigh of relief. "You're Uchiha Sasuke. I bet this all sounds so s—silly to you."
He shrugged.
"It sounds normal, actually."
They didn't speak again, not for the rest of her visit — she stood opposite him, not quite looking at him, and he stared past her. Each of them were immersed in their own thoughts; her of her confession to Naruto, and him of Sakura's last remark, before he'd left. He wondered, briefly, if he'd been like how Naruto was being — if he'd dismissed her, and forgotten her, and if she'd thought he'd thought she was being silly. He wondered, and he reminisced, and a small part of him wanted to go back and change it all.
A small part of him wanted to go back — wanted to turn around and acknowledge the quiet girl, who always followed Naruto, back in their academy days.
When Hinata left, she didn't take the bag of tomatoes.
It lay forgotten on the floor, contents spilling out for all to see; and, as Sasuke stared at each round, red fruit, he wondered whether going back would have really changed anything. As far as he could see, it was inevitable — he would have still hated Itachi, and he would have still misunderstood, and he probably still would have ended up in the same position as he was now.
He chuckled.
What was the point of regretting?
The thing was, he couldn't go back — and he would learn to accept that.
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