Soo, this is a really old request that’s been sitting around waiting on me to write it. I fell so in love with the idea that it might have a full story coming. This is more of a prologue than drabble. I just need to finish some other stories up first.
Tears spilled down Sakura’s
cheeks despite her best efforts to hold them in. She’d known that this day
might come, but she hadn’t expected it to hurt quite this much. She couldn’t
draw in enough air, and the shattered pieces of her heart tried to worm their
way free of her aching chest. Sakura forced another breath into her lungs, felt
them expand to welcome it, even as she sobbed through the exhalation.
You’re such a baby, Sakura chided, watching the darkness settle around her. You’re
still breathing, still alive. Think of all the people who didn’t come home from
Though Sakura knew it was true, the cold logic
didn’t bring her any comfort. Worldwide destruction had just been averted,
partially through her own skill, and that of her team. She should have been
celebrating, thankful to see another day. There had been dozens of invitations
to do so. Half of the shinobi in Konoha seemed to have gone that route.
Barring celebration, Sakura should have been
weeping over the loss. Ino and Shikamaru could have used the support of her
friendship after losing their fathers. Or Tenten and Lee, after Neji’s death.
Instead, Sakura was crying because Sasuke didn’t want her, wouldn’t take her
with him on his journey of atonement. The foolishness of it took her breath
away, but that didn’t stop the tears.
The soft scuff of a retreating foot caught
Sakura’s attention. Her head jerked up, fully expecting the culprit to be
Naruto. Somehow, her teammate always knew when she needed someone, even when
she wished he didn’t. She’d seen the pity in his eyes when Sasuke rejected her,
again. He must think she was an idiot for continuing to chase him.
Sakura turned toward the eavesdropper; it
wasn’t Naruto. Dusk softened the man’s bright red hair, while somehow making
his aquamarine eyes stand out starkly. A blush colored Gaara’s high, pale
cheekbones. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“Kazekage-sama,” Sakura greeted
primly. She wiped at her cheeks, knowing the tear tracks would catch the
moonlight, making it obvious that she’d been crying. “May I help you with
“Gaara, please.” The man’s lips
tilted into a phantom smile, like they were unused to the expression, but
attempted the gesture anyway. “I didn’t mean to impose, I just needed to
get out of my room for a while.”
Sakura nodded understandingly. Now that the
war was over, the rebuilding process had begun. Even so, there was only so much
that could be accomplished in a single day. Exhaustive lists of shinobi killed
in action needed to be combed through, the Kages need to discuss their
allegiances, then there was the physical restructuring. The task felt
“Me too,” Sakura shifted slightly,
lifting her feet from the ground. She’d wandered away from the main village, to
a playground that she’d known would be deserted this time of night. Something
about the soft creak of the swings, and the way the moonlight sparkled off the
river in the distance comforted her. “I suppose I look quite childish
sitting here. Alone, when there are million things I could be doing.”
Gaara raised his shoulders in a shrug as his
teal eyes roved over the shadowed equipment. “There are dozens of things that
need my attention as well.” The man crossed the pebbled stone and lowered
himself onto a swing next to her.
Sakura watched him from the corner of her eye.
Gaara’s lips were set in the serious expression that almost always graced his
features. Thinking back, she remembered the frantic worry in his eyes as he
watched her force Naruto’s heart to pump until the Fourth Hokage could save
him. There had been a moment of joy when Naruto drew another breath, a true
smile of friendship, not just hope for winning the war. The Kazekage wasn’t
Naruto is worried about you.“
Gaara’s voice was oddly formal to her ears, but there was an undertone of worry
Sakura forced out a chuckle, then pushed off
the ground, swinging backward, and closed her eyes. Gaara didn’t say anything,
just watched her with khol rimmed eyes. "Naruto worries about a lot of
things he can’t fix. It isn’t his place,” she began, meeting his gaze.
Gaara frowned for a moment, then spoke
suddenly. “Why don’t you come to Suna for a few months?”
Dropping her feet to the ground, Sakura raised
an eyebrow at the Kazekage. "What? Why?"
Shoulders dipping forward as he looked at the
ground, Gaara considered his words. "I can’t claim to have much experience
with relationships, but Naruto has taught me a great deal about them in theory.
The one thing that I do know, however, is that they aren’t supposed to hurt
like this.” He half-gestured to Sakura’s cheek, then let his hand fall
away. “I imagine love should hurt even less.”
For a moment, shock stilled Sakura’s tongue.
The moonlight and shadows made it difficult to tell, but she thought she saw
the dusting of pink on the Kazekage’s cheeks. “It’s none of my business–”
“What would I do in Suna?” Sakura interrupted,
annoyed that Naruto would put Gaara in this position. “My life is here.”
“You did amazing things with the poison Sasori
used on Kankuro. Even Chiyo wasn’t able to construct an antidote that quickly.”
Gaara must have seen the pain that crossed Sakura’s face at the memory, because
he hurried on. “And, you saved Naruto during the war, when all hope was lost.
You’re an unrivaled medic. Our shinobi could learn a great deal from you.”
Gaara slid a finger beneath the crimson collar
of his coat, loosening it. If Sakura hadn’t known better, she would have
thought he was nervous. “Tsunade-sama will stay in Konoha long enough to train
Kakashi as her successor, so you’d have a few months to spare, if you want.
Then, you could come back to the Leaf and oversee the hospital here.”
Despite everything, Sakura burst out laughing.
“Is there anything Naruto didn’t help you plan?”
Gaara’s flush deepened. “We’re leaving
tomorrow,” he added curtly, ignoring her outburst. “If you want to come with
The man stood and started to turn away.
Realizing the rudeness of her actions, Sakura followed and caught Gaara’s
sleeve. He startled at the touch, and she dropped her hand away with a blush of
her own. “I wasn’t laughing at you,” she corrected hastily. “I can tell that
Naruto put you up to this. You’d have no reason to think of me otherwise.”
“That isn’t true,” Gaara shifted weight to his
opposite foot, not quite looking at her. “I never properly thanked you for
helping Kankuro, or me.”
Sakura paused, realizing it was true. Gaara
had publicly thanked Naruto, of course. Without his help, they never would have
been able to rescue Gaara. And without Chiyo’s sacrifice, their efforts would
have been in vain. The memory was painful enough that Sakura shied away from
it. “Anyone would have done the same,” she brushed off his words.
“Few could have accomplished it,” Gaara
argued, then shook his head. “The offer stands if you’re interested. I think
our medical nin could learn a great deal from you.”
“Thank you, Kazakage-sama,” Sakura paused and
drew a breath before correcting herself. “Gaara.”
The man’s lips quirked upward again. “We’re
leaving at dawn.”
“I’ll see you then.” The answer surprised
Sakura, but she knew it was the right one. Time away from Konoha, from the
pitying looks of her friends, and the reminders of Sasuke, might be exactly
what she needed. The decision made the pressure in her chest ease. Sakura had a
plan now; she wasn’t worthless, and she could prove that in Suna.
do you ever sit on your bed thinking why you are still alive? after all the overdoses, the cigarettes you smoke, the new drugs you tried? you’re still alive after all the alcohol, the accidents, the drawbacks. you live even if you destroy yourself every day, despite you are conscious of you actions. you are still fucking alive and you don’t even know why
At school today my English teacher wore a black tie to work and told us that he was mourning America. You could hear our Modern Studies teacher ranting and screaming from just about every room in the school. Students plotted assassination attempts in huddled groups in the corridors. One teacher we didn’t know walked into our Biology lesson and told us he hoped we were ready to join the army and fight in world war 3, before bursting into tears.
The yoi fandom went from screaming over weekly new episodes to screaming over new official art and I genuinely really like that.
I think it’s cool that we can find joy and fuel our headcanons and whatnot with just a single image, and appreciate it for what it is, even if it is obviously much less content than a new episode.
Perhaps part of it is because they’re released irregularly and without prior notice but I think it’s really cool to see that the fandom is still active and still loves the series and all its little things like new art or new merch design or what have you.
We’re still alive and we appreciate and love all the little treats we get, no matter how small, and thinking about it just makes me really happy.
You can never tell anybody. (…) Because if you do, one morning you’ll wake up, and you won’t be in your bed. (…) You’ll be outside the walls far, far away tied to a tree. And you’ll scream and scream because you’ll be so afraid. No one will come to help because no one will hear you. Well, something will hear you. The monsters will come. The ones out there. And you won’t be able to run away when they come for you. And they will tear you apart and eat you up all while you’re still alive. All while you can still feel it. And then afterwards, no one will ever know what happened to you. Or you can promise not to ever tell anyone what you saw here and then nothing will happen. And you will get cookies. Lots of cookies. I know what I think you should do.
i have dreams of my funeral. some days you’re in the front row crying, other days you’re buried right next to me, holding my hand. other days i’m not dead at all and you’re still holding my hand. other days i’m alive and you’re gone and you’re not holding my hand and that is a lot like being dead to me.