Title: Cloud Watching
Author: cookiea2b3
Rating: T
Timeline: Part 2
Summary: Cloud watching. A trio of 12-year old genin used to do this after missions. In a state of inner turmoil you can find solace and stability in the smallest yet most familiar things.
A/N: Another Team 7 fic because these three are just so perfect together. =)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the story idea. Masashi Kishimoto owns the whole Naruto franchise. Lucky goose. (God I sound like I'm 80 or something.) I wrote this off the top of my head in order to sound more fluid in my writing instead of sounding all staggered and choppy, so this may be either worse or better than what I usually write.
Dedication: To myself as a reward because I'm actually taking time out of my day to write something.
Side Notes/ Warnings: A bit morbid in a sense if you think about it in a deep underlying way.
Date: 8/31/14
Three heads lay side by side in a field of flowers. One pink that blended in so graciously into the blossom beds below, another blonde, but as yellow... no golden as the sun in the sky above, and the last... dark bearing no resemblance at all to the nature around them.
"That one's a pineapple"
"No, that's a giraffe."
"I was pointing to the other one."
Their voices were so hushed that one had to strain to hear, but the conversation was flowing so merrily between the three, as if trapped in their own little world.
"That's the one I was talking about. It has a long neck, see?" a soft high-pitched girly sound.
"It could be an ostrich or a flamingo for all we know," a voice that strained to be any lower than it already was.
"Hey!" but the exclamation lacked its usual spirit, "Whose side are you on!" Still softer than what it usually was. A normal speaking tone at most.
"Nobody's'," came the smooth reply.
"Hmp. Teme," the other muttered. Their actions failed to get a rise out of either counterpart as they generally did on a good day. Why were they so quiet?
"Dobe." It was like a pet name now.
"Stop fighting." Fighting? This was more like two friends teasing each other. They were sick of fighting anyways.
"Yes ma'am." Two voices sounded simultaneously, about the same age, yet so different.
Silence. Near unbearable silence. It was sickening. They were sickening. What happened to the team that fought like madmen and never seemed to get along? They were close now, both mentally and physically, though they were nothing alike.
"HOW CAN WE PRETEND THAT NOTHING'S CHANGED?!" It was meant to come out softer. Like the angelic voice they had come to known.
"I don't know," and the same repeated answer.
Sobbing, crying, weeping... whichever one would choose call it, but the outcome was the same. Tears leaked from sea-foam green eyes that were blinking rapidly in a effort to get rid of the leaking drops, not because it was embarrassing to cry in front of the two men she had ever tried to impress, (because they were way past the stage to ever be embarrassed in front of each other) but because it was uncomfortable to cry as she laid on her back and the salty liquid overflowed her tear line before running down her temples.
Neither of the males moved to comfort her. It wasn't expected of them, because what good could they do if they were just as broken themselves.
It was quiet again. She had grown to dislike it. As if the hours already spent desolated in it weren't enough. It made her feel as if she was anticipating something (and not the good kind of surprise either).
She raised a hand and pointed, "That one's a star."
"A star?" one inquired. At this point it didn't matter which.
She nodded though both their eyes were directed at the sky and not her. "Yes, a star...," a moment's pause, "Make a wish."
They didn't need to ask what the other wished for, as it was evident with all the bloodshed they'd witnessed. If they all wished for the same thing without telling each other it was guaranteed to come true, right? If that was the truth, they wouldn't be in that field at this moment. Everyone was dead. Nothing more nothing less. The only thing they could do now was lay back and gaze at the clouds in the sky. (Like a couple of the same tourists who came to see the remnants of the once prospering village.) After all, they had long abandoned anything else they used to have together. Only the truly diseased wished the dead back to life anyways. They wondered what that made them.
A/N: What possessed me to write such a sad story? I swear I didn't mean for it to turn out this way. It was supposed to be a happy story about Team 7 going cloud watching. Except it turned into this really morbid story about after the war and everyone dying except those three. Who knows what it would take for them to go through all that, saving the world, but losing what made them want to save it in the first place. So anyways this is chapter 2 of my The Dysfunctional Misadventures of Team 7 drabble set. So anyways hoped you enjoyed it & I'm actually proud of how this fic turned out. So toodles and see you next time! =)