I stood by his side watching the sun set over Konoha. He had since abandoned the bright orange jumpsuit, replacing it with the less conspicuous, rather boring black shirt, pants and dark green flak jacket that was the attire of the common folk. Seeing him in it did not make him any less handsome, only not as noticeable as before. Well, maybe to someone who didn't know him, or loved him, like I did, he would blend in the crowd of jounins and be just like everybody else.
He only had to open his mouth and he would be common no longer; be it for a loud mouthed comment or a cheeky grin, it was hard to separate what truly made him who he was. Bright, charming and brave… he was many things. He was a hero. I like to think that I was, too. Along with our good old friend, and our Sensei, and everyone who fought the war. Still there was no placing me next to his strength, and I often wonder why I am here without anything much to offer other than company.
There was no hiding the loneliness in his eyes, and I don't know how much he tries to put on a brave face for everyone. The war was over, after all. He should worry about his dreams and move on.
He won't, this much I knew. I also knew that it wasn't just because of me anymore. I have known it for a long time now, and I have prepared myself for their inevitable confrontation.
My fingers laced around his and despite the warning in my head I leaned onto his form, resting my head on his shoulder. He stiffened and I was afraid he would turn away, afraid that he would shut himself out and place me among the people of the village who will never see him vulnerable and lonely; the people who depended on him and waited for him to take the role as Hokage, who gave their love and received his. I wanted to receive his love too, but this time I knew I wanted more than that.
It was getting dark and I stayed there. He let out a deep breath and I turned my face to look up, hopeful. He had his eyes closed, but gently he opened them and met mine, a soft smile forming on his lips. I wanted him to break down and embrace me, wanted him to tell me he wasn't strong enough.
He did not. But he kissed my forehead and whispered that he loved me before taking me in his arms. I bit my lip and cried for the both of us, ashamed that I forgot that he really was strong, and brave, and he was everything they say.
It was time to go, and he led me by the hand. I did not tell him how much I loved him, or how I loved him now, so much more than I ever thought I would.
But I pulled back his hand and reached for his face, pressed myself closer till his breath came in hot puffs on my cheek. I looked at him once and closed my eyes, finding his lips in the darkness, and taking him, till my soul poured and my heart flowed through, in the way I knew only he would understand because he had somehow felt it before, and I wanted him to remember…
He kissed me back and I knew he did.