Author's Note: SO sorry that it has taken me so long to update. I had to make some major plot and writing style decisions, which I hope turn out for the best. As it is, I'm a lot busier than I would like to be, so check back for monthly updates instead of the promised weekly ones. As always, read, review, and enjoy!
Chapter 8: Lilies and Daffodils
Time passed slowly for Naruto during his hospital stint. Tsunade performed several procedures to check on the healing progress of his internal organs. Strangely enough, their healing rate was significantly slower than that of his muscle and skin tissue. When Naruto had inquired about the reason for this, Tsunade had tapped her pencil against her full lips a few times before admitting that she wasn't quite sure why. In the end, she speculated that because the structure of organs was more complex than either muscle or skin, it took longer to heal. This did not seem to satisfy her, though, and she refused to accept it as anything more than a theory.
Because of this uncertainty, Tsunade insisted that Naruto stay two extra days in the hospital so she could further study his recovery. Naruto found it difficult to look towards the imposing time with anything less than dread. Confined as he was, Naruto was left with an unpleasant amount of time to think . . . and thinking did nothing to improve his mood.
In order to keep himself from returning to the same fresh memories over and over again, Naruto had to circumvent his own thoughts, which became quite tiring after a while. He did his best not to think about Sasuke's death, but with his funeral quickly approaching, Naruto found it difficult to focus on anything else. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the lightening blue arc of Sasuke's katana slowly descend towards his stomach. And every time he opened his eyes to wake himself from the nightmare, the lights of the hospital would only remind him of the eerie illumination of the hallway florescent lights. And even when the visions didn't plague him, the sound of Sasuke's hollow voice rang in his ears, as real as if he were standing right next to him. If only that could be true . . .
In the midst of all this, Naruto wondered if he was slowly being driven insane. It seemed like a legitimate concern. However, Sakura's visits helped keep him in his right mind, or so he hoped. Every day she brought a fresh flower, always a daffodil, and everyday Naruto tried to seem as if he had gotten better since she had last visited. He had to be strong for her. He had to hold fast to his conviction to show her that he was doing alright. He had to let her know that if he could get through this, then so could she.
It was hard, though.
Though the blame of Sasuke's death had temporarily been lifted from his conscience, most of the grief remained. It was alright, though, for Naruto knew that nothing more than time could really cure such a wound. He just wished the Kyuubi would hurry up and heal the damn thing already.
When the two days had ended, Naruto was finally released. His first matter of business, unfortunately, was giving Tsunade a detailed account of his mission. Standard procedure, she had explained with the smallest look of apology for the pain the fresh memories must have cost him.
To his surprise, Naruto found it easy to recount the events once he re-entered his ANBU persona. Beneath his mask he was cold. Unfeeling. Detached from the heavy burdens of emotions. This was what it meant to be ANBU. Emotionless, not a longtime friend or brother, but a tool for the village. The relieved burden of his emotions left him feeling slightly cold and empty, and he made a note to reserve such a mindset for missions only. Despite all his concentration, though, the crack in his mask—ripped open from suppressed anger, sorrow, and guilt as well as an encounter with a wooded wall—allowed some emotions to seep through and did not leave him completely unscathed from the experience.
The week was a blur. From what Naruto remembered, he eased himself back into training—which is to say that he only used ninety percent of his energy instead of the full one hundred—and that helped his mental state greatly. Kakashi contacted him a few times to go over the funeral arrangements, which always succeeded in sobering his mood. Eventually, they agreed on a time and place, and Kakashi sent the appropriate information to the appropriate people. The only thing he was certain of was that he did not see Sakura in the few days that he was out of the hospital. They exchanged brief conversations over the phone, but were both too preoccupied with their respective duties to actually visit one another. Naruto thought it was for the best. His emotional state was sporadic enough without being in Sakura's presence. He supposed the same could be said about her.
Before the week was out, Naruto found himself donning his best—and only—suit, unsure of whom he was trying to impress with his formal attire. Surely Sasuke wouldn't have cared if he had shown up clad in all orange, though he probably would have given him an impressive withering look filled with aloof disdain. The thought made Naruto chuckle sadly.
Naruto paced the length of his bedroom a few times, fiddling with his cuff links and trying not to look at the picture that rested on his bedside table. Try though he might, he could not ignore the familiar faces for much longer and found himself inevitably drawn in. Taking great care with the worn frame as he picked it up, Naruto sat down on his bed with a small sigh and allowed himself to be lost in the contents of the photo once more.
His eyes drug over every face, including his own. What a little goon he had been, he thought with the tiniest of smirks. In retrospect, he wished that he had taken the photo more seriously. If he had known that this very photo would become the object of his obsession, then he might have managed to smile a bit for it. Instead, he was locked in an eternal grimace of displeasure at the outcome of his team placement. Irony was indeed a spiteful bitch.
Pulling his eyes away from himself, Naruto glanced over at the twelve-year-old version of Sakura. She looked so incandescently happy; Naruto felt his gut twist unpleasantly. When was the last time he had seen her smile like that?
Kakashi, well, he hadn't changed much. He was still gray haired. Still dressed in that ridiculous mask that Naruto swore to see past one day. Still a somewhat silly but unquestionably wise and trustworthy mentor. Naruto supposed Kakashi might have a few more wrinkles at the corner of his right eye, but he couldn't be sure.
Though he tried to stop himself, Naruto's eye was invariably drawn to the last face in the rag-tag line up. The last time Naruto had allowed himself to stare at the photo, he had wondered if Sasuke had changed from the last time he saw him. He had, though not enough to make him unrecognizable.
In a different life, Sasuke could have been the hero of the village. Talented, handsome, intelligent . . . but all that had been thrown away. Though Sasuke had maintained those qualities, they had been warped into something that was beyond their original intent, clouded by hate, twisted to fit the path of revenge. It was sobering to know that if it hadn't been for a certain series of events, Naruto could have easily fallen in his place, much like he could have fallen into Gaara's place. Still, the thought did little to comfort him.
Finally, Naruto found the strength to tear his eyes away from the photo so that he could place it on his bedside table once again. He would leave over analyzing his thoughts for another day. Today, he had somewhere important to be.
His stomach churning a bit uneasily, Naruto exited his apartment, locked the door behind him, and descended the stairs until he walked along the streets of Konoha.
As he walked towards his destination, Naruto kept his eyes on the ground and his hands in his pockets and allowed his mind to wander. Though he had tried his best to prevent it, news of Sasuke's death spread through the village like wildfire. Some people—those that had formed a vendetta against Sasuke since he deserted the village—seemed almost glad about his passing. Others—the few that had actually known him—were saddened by the loss and tragedy that had befallen the old teammate. Most, however, remained neutral for they were not privy to the sensitive details surrounding Sasuke's history.
There was one group of people, however, whose reactions to Sasuke's death Naruto found distasteful. The elders had been thoroughly pleased, if not a little smug, upon hearing the news of both of the Uchiha's deaths. A massive relief seemed to have washed over them for reasons Naruto had yet to fully understand. But what disgusted Naruto the most was their feigned sense of loss. In the report that Naruto read containing their official response, it had stated that the council grieved deeply for the loss of such fine skill and that they repented the fact that they had questioned Sasuke's true motives when he first left the village. Upon their decree, Sasuke was to be given high honors for felling the villain that was Itachi and equal honor for his noble self-inflicted death. Their bigotry sickened Naruto to the core. Not a month ago, the old wretches had demanded Sasuke's head on a platter.
Pompous bastards.
It wouldn't be long till the elders' opinion of Sasuke spread throughout the village and those with a neutral opinion began to adopt their views. Then the truth would be even further muddied.
Though . . . Naruto supposed it wasn't all bad. At least this would stop people from defiling Sasuke's grave, or so he hoped. Still, he preferred if people knew the truth about Sasuke. He wanted them to know what he was like before Orochimaru had come into his life. He wanted them to see how revenge and hatred had driven him practically mad, how it had broken him and stripped him down to nothing. He wanted them to see the burning fire that had once been in his eyes and the hollowness that had eventually taken its place. He wanted them to see how he had been tormented . . . then maybe they wouldn't be so quick to shower Sasuke with praise for the very thing that finally broke him. Or so Naruto thought.
But then again, who was he to stake such a claim? He could not speak for Sasuke. No one could. Though Naruto had no doubt that he was among the few that knew him the best, he had only known Sasuke for a short time in comparison to the greater scheme of things, and most of that time had been during childhood. The fact that he had no physical proof—besides the picture and the old forehead protector that he still kept well-guarded—of his ties to Sasuke saddened him greatly. There was no evidence besides his word.
Naruto shook the thoughts out of his head as he arrived at his first destination: the Yamanaka flower shop.
The fresh scent of a hundred different types of flowers stung his sensitive nose while a tiny bell sang of his arrival. The shop was empty, but Naruto had hardly taken a second step inside before he heard a familiar voice yell, "Just a second!"
Not a moment later, Ino came bounding in a side door, her long blonde hair streaming behind her as she situated herself behind the counter. Her heels clacked against the tile as she performed the hurried movement. "Oh, hello Naruto," she said, letting out a small breath of relief when she realized that she hadn't kept a "real" customer waiting. Taking a moment to slide an earring into her left earlobe, she asked in a friendly tone, "How can I help you?"
As Naruto made his way through the various displays to the counter, he couldn't help but notice Ino's attire. She wore a black dress that was cinched at the waist, revealing her curves in a flattering—but not overly sexual—way. Her neckline, as with most of her clothing choices, did not favor modesty too well, but it appeared as if she had attempted to remedy it by wearing a red camisole underneath. It helped, sort of. For once, her long hair was not bound in a ponytail, but fell down her back in a heavy curtain and was kept out of her face with the assistance of two barrettes.
Keeping his hands in his pockets, Naruto explained, "Well, I was sort of hoping that I, uh, could pick up a flower." For some reason, he tried to avoid using the word "funeral", though it was obvious by their attire that they were both going to the same event.
It took her a second—she was busy putting her right earring in—but soon Ino's eyes widened a bit in comprehension, and she nodded. "Of course. Was there . . . anything particular you had in mind?" she asked a bit hesitantly.
Naruto shook his head. He had been fortunate enough to attend only a handful of funerals in his life, so he had little to draw reference from. He did know, however, that he did not want a large arrangement. Somehow, he thought that Sasuke would have found it unnecessary. "I just think a single flower would be nice," Naruto mused, thinking back to the Third Hokage's funeral. Laughing a bit awkwardly and scratching the back of his head, Naruto admitted, "I just have no idea what to get."
"Well . . . it all depends on what you want to say," Ino consoled him with a small smile. Naruto smiled back, but hesitated with his answer. After a moment, she folded her hands on the table and busied herself with studying their interlocking patterns. "I know it must not be easy, considering . . ." she broke off and shut her eyes tightly, as if chastising herself for the insensitive phrasing. "I mean, it's hard to summarize everything into one meaning, so you don't have to tell—"
"Hope, I guess," Naruto cut her off, much to Ino's evident surprise. "Hope for something better, for peace. But also friendship. That's important. Something not too girly, either. Or tacky. I just . . . I just want to do him justice, you know? Something he'd approve of," he rambled on, surprising himself by how open he was. It had been one of the few times within the last few days that he actually felt as if he had been honest about what he was thinking.
A small smile touched Ino's lips. "I'll be right back," she said, and began to walk through the various isles of flowers. After some consideration, she brought back a bucket filled with colored irises and hefted it onto the counter. Water sloshed inside the bucket. She studied the flowers for a moment more and then plucked what seemed to be a perfect white blossom from the display. "Here," she said and delicately passed it to him, as if it was as precious as a new born child.
Naruto regarded the flower with a sense of wonder. Its three downward arching petals gave it a sense of fragility, while the upward arching petals seemed to resemble a spear head, giving it a sturdy, if not noble appearance. Beautiful as it was, though, Naruto did not know its true implications.
Sensing his wariness, Ino leaned forward to explain, "It's a white iris." When this did not seem to strike a chord with Naruto, she continued, "The iris is most commonly related to hope, but it is also believed to mean faith and courage. I hope that's not 'too girly' for you."
Naruto beamed. "No, no. It's . . . it's great," he said softly.
Ino nodded, seeming pleased with her selection. "White is a sign of purity. It's often used to express the desire for a pure passing into the next world," she further explained.
"Very fitting . . ." he murmured, twirling the flower slowly between his fingers. It seemed perfect in every way. Breaking himself from his thoughts—which seemed to be a habit of his nowadays—Naruto stuck a hand in his jacket to locate his wallet.
Ino raised a hand. "Please, Naruto, you don't have to pay me." He started to protest, but she insisted. "Think of it as my . . . condolences."
Grumbling a bit, Naruto slipped his wallet back into his jacket and let out the defeated murmur of, "Alright." Though it was difficult for him to accept charity of any kind, Naruto knew that Ino's heart had been in the right place. It would be rude to decline such an obvious gift.
Now that the difficult task of expressing his own condolences was finished, Naruto mentally braced himself for the hardships the afternoon was sure to bring. Well, he should probably hurry up so he could meet them head on. Besides, he didn't want to be late for his final goodbyes.
"Thanks a lot, Ino," Naruto said with a small smile. Ino waved off the thanks. Taking a step back from the counter, Naruto asked, "So I'll see you there, then?"
Suddenly, Ino seemed to be a bit uncomfortable. She scratched the back of her head uncertainly and then dropped her hand to fiddle with her right earring. Her normally strong, bold gaze dropped to the counter, as if fascinated by the patterns in the woodwork. "Well . . . maybe." Naruto stared at her quizzically. Maybe? But she was obviously dressed for the occasion. Why would she be so uncertain? Unless—
"Did Kakashi-sensei not give you an invitation?" he asked, suddenly concerned and angry that Ino had been left out of the loop and therefore insulted. "I told him to invite everyone who had gone through the chuunin exams together—"
Ino laughed and a waved a hand to disrupt his suddenly distraught mood. "No, no, no, it's nothing like that," she assured him. Though she tried to keep a cheery expression, the smile quickly faded from her eyes. There was a small pause before she slowly explained, "It's just . . . I really didn't know Sasuke too well. I liked to pretend that I did, but I didn't." There was another pause in the conversation as Ino inspected the other irises and Naruto tried to think of something reassuring to say. "I mean, I wasn't even a part of any of the retrieval missions . . ." she murmured as she cradled a dark purple bud in her palm. With a small sigh, she turned her eyes back to Naruto, an apologetic smile tugging on the corner of her lips. "I just didn't want my presence to be an insult," she explained with a small shrug.
Naruto stared at her for a moment, unsure of how she could have ever reached that conclusion. But then again, hadn't he wondered something along those lines only minutes ago? If he, one of the people in the village who had been closest to Sasuke, could question how well he had known him, couldn't anyone?
Straightening a bit, Naruto said firmly, "I think you should go." Ino blinked in response, her eyes asking the reproachful question of 'why?' Naruto may not have been good with words, but he was determined to go against his own stereotype, at least for this one instance. "You've obviously thought about this for a while, so that shows that you cared about him. And if you ask me, that's all that really matters," Naruto assured her, flashing a goofy grin that fit poorly with the mood of the situation.
But that was what really mattered, wasn't it? Naruto didn't know too much about spirits, but he guessed that if some of them did choose to linger on the earth, Sasuke's wouldn't have been one of them. All he wanted was freedom. Freedom from revenge. Freedom from his memories. He wouldn't have chosen to hang around once he finally got that, especially not Konoha. But Naruto liked to think that maybe a little part of him stayed. Maybe the part that had found a shred of happiness still lingered, if only in memories.
But whatever part of Sasuke was still hanging around, Naruto was sure it wouldn't badger Ino for coming to pay her respects just because she hadn't spent a certain amount of time with him. So what if she hadn't been best friends with Sasuke? She gave a damn, which was more than could be said for half the village.
Ino's expression softened, and she gave Naruto a small nod. More confident with his words now, Naruto continued, "Besides, I'm sure Sakura would be glad to have you there. Plus you're already dressed . . ."
Ino gave him a true laugh and shook her head. Finally, she seemed to be her rambunctious self once again. "You're right. And I'd hate to waste such a great outfit," she joked and then grew sober again. "And I'm sure you'd do a much better job of consoling Sakura than I would . . . but I'll go."
Naruto shifted, uncomfortable, and scratched at his cheek. "I don't know about that," he mumbled, remembering their first conversation in the hospital. He supposed that after the two of them had their individual breakdowns, it hadn't been a total failure. Each day he had seen her she looked better, a little healthier, but Naruto was sure the credit couldn't fall on him alone. Surely Tsunade, Shizune, Ino, hell even Kakashi-sensei had stepped in. As he seemed to constantly remind himself, he was only one piece in her complicated life.
Raising an eyebrow at him, Ino just shook her head and muttered, "Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that."
Sure that he had heard her wrong, Naruto furrowed his brow and asked, "What?"
"Nothing," Ino sighed in an exaggerated huff and then shooed him away from the counter. "Now get going before you make us both late."
Smirking despite himself, Naruto turned with a small wave and headed for the shop exit. But on his way there, something caught his eye. "Hey, Ino," he called as he turned around again. Ino let out an unnecessary sigh, but nevertheless acknowledged him. "Does every flower have a meaning?" he asked quite seriously.
"Of course," she answered, a bit confused by the change in topic.
Naruto nodded and then pointed to the barrel that held a bundle of familiar blossoms on his left. "Then what does this flower mean?" he asked curiously.
Ino leaned over the counter to get a better look. "A daffodil?" she asked, and Naruto nodded. Her expression softened just a bit, and she asked, "Sakura gave you one, didn't she?"
Naruto blinked in surprise. She had given him several, actually, but how did Ino know that? Perhaps she had been the one to sell them to her. That seemed logical enough. Still, he had to ask, "How did you—"
Ino cut him off with a shrug and walked around the counter to kneel in front of the barrel full of trumpeted flowers. "Just a guess," she explained without explaining anything, a hint of a smile playing across her lips. Gently lifting her hand, Ino cradled a blossom and traced her fingers over the delicate petals. "Daffodils are thought to symbolize hope. But more specifically, hope of a new future or a fresh start. Just like when the daffodil sprouts in early spring after facing a hard winter, it is hoped that the receiver may push through their troubles or sickness and have a beautiful future," she spoke softly, keeping her eyes on the blossom the whole time.
If what she said had been true, then it was easy to see why she would have thought that Sakura had sent him one. If Naruto was in need of anything, it was hope for an untroubled future, and Sakura knew that better than anyone.
Naruto nodded, content with the answer he had received, but it seemed that Ino was not finished. She stared at the flower for a few moments longer, but her eyes appeared to be focused on something very distant. "A very fitting gift, if you ask me. Much better than a rose. Roses are just tacky . . ." she mumbled to herself.
Naruto shifted a bit on his feet and wondered when the hell they started talking about roses. Ino seemed to sense his confusion and quickly collected herself. Standing with all the dignity she normally carried, Ino placed her hands on her hips and gave Naruto a look that practically said, 'Forget about it.'
So he did. Slowly twirling his new iris in the tips of his fingers, Naruto smiled and said, "Thanks again, Ino." This had been exactly what he had needed. A short, somewhat light-hearted talk with no one asking him how he was feeling or what he would do next. It was a short mental respite from what was about to come.
Ino shrugged, but smiled at him all the same. "No problem. Now go! I have to find a necklace to match these earrings," she claimed with a little bit of a flourish before turning to walk back into her home entrance to the shop. Leave it to Ino to hide her emotions with bossiness. Naruto shook his head, but nevertheless obeyed and found himself out on the street once again.
He was temporarily disoriented by the sunshine that flooded the street. Despite the heavy connotations that surrounded it, Naruto had to admit that it was a perfect day. Civilians bustled by on the street, apparently oblivious to the dark shadow that lingered over the village. That would change soon, though. Upon Naruto's request, Sasuke's funeral was to be a closed event, open only to those who knew him personally. No politicians. No third parties. Just those who cared about him. Needless to say, it was projected to be a small affair.
Reports of Sasuke's burial place would be released in three days so that the villagers could pay their respects to the newly honored shinobi. Perhaps then the village would grieve for him. But as it was, on such a beautiful, cloudless day, not even the sky could shed a tear for him.
Lost in such thoughts, Naruto continued his slow shuffle towards the memorial grounds where Sasuke was to be buried next to the old Uchiha memorial. He might have traveled the whole way like this if a gentle tug on his elbow hadn't pulled him back into reality. Naruto turned, startled, but smiled when he saw who it was.
"Hey Sakura," he said simply. She smiled back.
Her hair was pinned back in an intricate bun constructed by two braids. Naruto couldn't begin to understand how she had done it. As was customary, Sakura was dressed in black, but unlike Ino's dress, hers was very modest. The neckline went up to her collar bones, the flowy sleeves nearly reached her elbows, and the hem extended down to her knees. Though she looked better than she had the morning after Sasuke's death, the black fabric made her appear even paler than normal and the sagging cinched waist of the dress suggested that she might not have been eating properly. Regardless—and Naruto knew that he should not be paying attention to such things at such sensitive times—she was still beautiful in a sad sort of way.
"Mind if I walk with you?" she asked, releasing his elbow.
"'Course not," he assured her, and she fell into step beside him. Silence stretched between them, but Naruto didn't mind much. His mind was so jumbled that it almost seemed easier not to put his thoughts into words, at least for now. A time would come where they would have time to talk, but that time was not today, at least not right now.
After a few minutes of traveling in companionable silence, Naruto noticed that Sakura was also carrying a single white flower with her. His first instinctive response was relief. Good, he hadn't completely butchered his flower selection. But when he identified the familiar blossom, a strange mix of emotions invaded his chest.
"You brought him a daffodil?" he asked abruptly.
Caught off guard by his sudden outburst, Sakura glanced up at him and then down at the flower in her hand before she seemed to make the connection. "Oh, yeah, I did . . . and I see you brought a lily," Sakura noted. The little upturn of her mouth made Naruto think that she already knew its implied meaning.
But Naruto would not be distracted from what he wanted to know. "Why?" Naruto asked, unsure what this pressing desire to understand her intent came from. It felt familiar, yet very distant.
Raising the flower to her nose, Sakura gazed unfocussed at the ground ahead of her. "I gave him one a long time ago when he was sick. He probably wouldn't even remember . . . He was out for so long . . ." she mumbled, her lips gently grazing the petals.
There was a beat of silence. "You brought me a daffodil," he said a bit more quietly.
Breaking her gaze on the ground, Sakura regarded him with a slightly confused expression, seeming a bit perturbed by his sudden intensity in this odd conversation topic. "Yes, I did. Several, actually."
Naruto averted his gaze, a little abashed that he was bringing up such petty topics amongst this time of mourning. But some things, like his insatiable curiosity, could not be changed of stopped. "Is there any connection?" he asked, glancing back to her.
Something in Sakura's expression—maybe the soft, tired look around her eyes, or how the corners of her lips sagged before she could force them into a soft smile—alerted Naruto that he may have been too blunt with his question. He had never been one for words. Uncomfortable, Naruto almost shrugged the question off and asked her to forget about it, but Sakura surprised him by coming back with an unguarded answer before he could do any such thing. "There is. It's a message of hope to two of my teammates, and two important people in my life. Different messages, but hopeful nevertheless," she explained very matter of factly, but in the soft manner that she possessed that made the message meaningful anyway.
Well that certainly gave him something to think about.
But before Naruto could ruin the moment by over analyzing the comment as best as his thick skull would allow, Sakura gave him a genuine smile and said light-heartedly, "It's also my favorite flower."
Naruto laughed harder than he was expecting himself to, which earned him a laugh from Sakura too. Indulging in the joke for just a moment, he parried, "Oh, so you couldn't get me my favorite flower?"
Sakura raised an eyebrow at him. "Naruto, you don't have a favorite flower," she scoffed.
If the circumstances had been different, Naruto might have nudged her side and slyly hinted that his favorite flower was, in fact, the cherry blossom. But now did not seem like the right time for shameless flirting, so he decided to listen to his better judgment. He pretended to mull this over for a second before admitting defeat. "Toupee," he sighed.
"Touché," she corrected him without fail.
"Bless you," he said with mock seriousness.
There was a beat of silence, and then Sakura burst into laughter, just because it was so ridiculous. It was a lame joke, Naruto had to admit, and probably twice as old as Tsunade-baa-chan herself, but as long as it made Sakura laugh, Naruto didn't care if it made him look like the biggest idiot in the world. It wouldn't have been the first time he took one for the team.
Naruto chuckled along with her and, almost as a reflex, put his arm around her shoulders to keep them steady as they walked. Much to his joy, she didn't pull away, but leaned her head on his shoulder as their laughter died. They shared a silent moment in a post-humorous high, and then Sakura sighed, "I've missed you."
Whatever feeling that had welled up inside his chest earlier was replaced with something lighter as he smiled and rubbed her shoulder. He wasn't sure if she was referring to how little she had seen him over the past week or how she had missed the bond they had shared before the complication of Sasuke's death—or Naruto's ANBU induction to be completely honest. But Naruto did know that it couldn't be a bad thing to be missed, right?
"I've always been here," he hummed, trying his own hand at leaving implied meanings in his messages. He could be cryptic, too!
She smiled, but her sigh told him that she didn't quite agree with him. "You've gone plenty of places where I couldn't reach you," she responded, effectively snuffing out any satisfactory victory flame that still burned in his ego.
Talk about a mind fuck. What did that mean? Was she talking about him leaving the village for missions? No, that seemed too petty of her. But what else could it mean? Not for the first time, Naruto wished that the people in his life would just realize that these murmured asides and deep allusions were wasted on him. It would make his life so much simpler.
Trying to save face, Naruto replied, "Well, I'm here now. We'll help each other through this, I promise."
This seemed to appease Sakura for the time being. She nodded, but pulled away from his embrace. He suddenly felt cold without her pressed to his side, despite the sun beating down on him. Giving him a gentle smile, Sakura said, "What did I tell you about making promises? Now come on, we're going to be late."
Naruto blinked as she tugged on his sleeve; he hadn't realized that they had stopped walking.
Ah, that was right. They couldn't be late. After all, they were probably going to make up a good portion of the visitation party.
To be continued . . .