Title: Hurt Pride, Wounded Heart, Wasted Lives

Chapter Title: Sorrow, Grief and Peaceful Bliss

Word Count: 3,218

Status: Continuous - Incomplete

Pairing: NejixSakuraxSasuke

Summary: I loved these years I’ve loved you. But I never told you...Please Don't has moved on with her life. She's even found a new romance. Then he showed up and destroyed her perfect world. NejiSakuSasu. Rated M for later chapters.

The Copy-nin sat alone in the Hospital’s pristine waiting room. He kept his head down, his arms resting on his knees. The floor was so shiny clean that he could almost see a clear reflection of himself on the tiles. He felt dehydrated. His eyes stung. Every part of his body ached. It wasn’t supposed to be this way!

Three hours had passed since they had arrived at the hospital. Had it only been three hours? It felt like much more. He felt like he had been running and running and physically straining himself for weeks. He did not bother to look up at the clock on the wall. He could hear the second ticking away, like some absurd metronome that could well be counting down the last seconds of his students’ lives.

‘Don’t think about that!’ he scolded himself. He tried to focus his mind on positive thoughts. He tried to tell himself that everything was going to be okay. They were strong. They would make it through this. But a voice in his head questioned him. How had it been before they has arrived at the Valley of the End? For how long had the young ANBU lain there broken and bleeding before they had carried them home? For how long had they been fighting?

Fighting. The word sounded strange to him now. For what had they been fighting? For the safety of Konoha? Something told him that had not been the only reason. Despite everything that stood between them, they had wanted their former friend and teammate back home. He had to commend them for their faith. Had they actually believed that Uchiha Saksuke would come back to them? But who was he lying to? He himself wanted to believe the fantasy: that the youngest Uchiha survivor would come back home; that he would be part of them once more. But it was not to be. Everyone knew that it was a traitor’s trial that awaited him if he were ever to return. And almost surely and execution, too. Public humiliation before a public death. Kakashi was disgusted by the very idea. But he had come willingly. They had not needed to bind him, to force him into submission. And upon arrival at the gates of Konoha, he had astounded everyone by leading his own escorts to his own holding cell. The fights they had expected had never come. At this very moment, the last remaining Uchiha survivor was in a holding cell under constant watch. But it seemed unnecessary. He made no move to try and escape. He did not speak, nor did he eat or drink anything. He was very low on chakra, but he showed no interest in caring for himself. Kakashi had not seen him yet – he had not left the hospital since first arriving. He had been told all this by other ANBU who had been stationed as rotational guards at his cell.

Hataka Kakashi could not understand. What had happened to his once prized student? He had been so resilient, so strong, so unbending. Ha had always been his own master. What had caused him to break? And what, what on earth could have possessed him that he should try to revive the person he had just fought? There had to be a reason. Uchiha Sasuke never did anything on impulse. There was always a reason. There was a reason for his defecting to Orochimaru; there was a reason for him going after his elder brother, a reason for his killing the snake-sannin. Likewise, there was a reason for his sudden return to Konoha borders. There was surely an explanation for his waiting till he was at the very edge of the Fire Country before he killed his brother – no, not killed per se, but injured him enough so that the man would have to die a slow and painful death. What had caused him to come this far, all this way, back to the land of his beginnings? Hadn’t he turned his back on Konoha completely? Didn’t he believe there was nothing for him here anymore? Hadn’t he come back so that he could capture Sakura and force her to bear his heirs? Hadn’t that been what Uchiha Itachi had said? “He’s coming for his little blossom.” He could have easily kidnapped her from the midst of her team. Tsunade had told him: Sakura had been sent along partly as bait to lure the Uchiha out. But he hadn’t come to take her. No; for if that had been his intention, it would have been done. Then there would have been a wild chase to retrieve her. But he had just stood there and fought. Why? Did he seriously believe that he could take on Konoha single-handedly? Taken, his brother had murdered the whole Uchiha clan in one night, in one go, leaving his little brother alive on purpose. But Konoha would not have been taken by surprise. They were very well forewarned. So his intentions were not to engage in battle with Konoha’s ANBU. He had simply wanted her there. Why? There was a reason.

There was always a reason. But what? And yet, Uchiha Sasuke had purposely harmed his former friends – which, admittedly, was not something new. He had fought to kill, and he had damn near succeeded. How could anyone do such a thing?

Kakashi’s head throbbed. Why was this happening? It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. His students shouldn’t be in those rooms. ‘But you’ve trained them to face situations that could very well kill them!’ his mind shouted back at him. I know that, he fought with himself. But this still isn’t right. Why must this happen to the young? Why is this generation so doomed? So cursed with such happenings? Why? They have their whole lives ahead of them.

Kakashi felt the guilt threatening to overwhelm him again. This was his fault. He should have been there. He should have been more careful. He should have been stronger. He should have protected them. The shouldn’t have to die.

He couldn’t breathe. His chest and throat were tight. His body shook as his hands grabbed fistfuls of his own hair in an attempt to control himself. Still he could not breathe.

xXxXxXxXxXxXx

Tsunade made her way to the waiting room. She had walked these corridors countless times, ran through them more than she walked. But today the hallways were incredibly long and the temperature was too low. She felt col. The lights were too bright. They hurt her eyes after the long hours in the Special Care Emergency Operating Theatre. The floor and walls were blinding. Today Tsunade had to force her legs to move; force herself to drag her own feet along as she moved in the direction of the waiting rooms. She tried to take a deep breath to calm herself, but it was no use. She had discarded the scrubs she had been wearing and scrubbed her hands raw, but the smell still stayed. The metallic stench of blood, the stinging bitter odor of poison. The blood. She had always hated, feared the sight of blood since ‘that’ incident many many years before in her youth. She had believed that to be the worst. But she had been wrong. Never in her life did she think that she would have to face her fear this way. No, no one would have imagined that she should have her hands soaked in her apprentice’s blood. The blood of the daughter she had never had.

Before she knew it, Tsunade found herself outside the door to the waiting area. She knew she should proceed, but all of a sudden, she was scared. Scared of what she knew she must say. But how could she say it? How could she tell him what she herself could not accept? Through the glass she could see him slumped over on his seat. His face was hidden by his silver hair and his hands. His sorrow was obvious in the subtle tremors of his form. Even in his current mental anguish he could hide his emotions this well. She would never have noticed had she not known his true feelings. She tried to make a step toward the door, but her feet would not move. Was it her feet that would not move? Or was it simply that she was seeking an excuse to delay her meeting with the Copy-nin? She felt that it was quite her fault that her best ANBU had been injured thus. She had been the one to send them out there. But then, what choice had she had? She hadn’t wanted to send them to such a fate, but she hadn’t known it was this fate that awaited them! Besides, it was her job as Hokage to see to the well being of Konohagakure. The lives of the whole village, all the people in it – and, invariably the fates of those tied to Konoha; for Konoha was among the strongest, most influential of the military villages, rivaled closely only by Suna, and both villages were allies. And alliance that is soon to be further reinforced by a ‘noble’ wedding. Her thoughts trailed again to the ANBU still fighting for their lives in the OT. Konoha’s top ANBU medic, strategist, and the famed ANBU Captain himself, along with their Jinchuuriki, whom she had already decided to officially name her successor. Konoha’s favourite four. All fighting for their lives. The outcomes were yet to be decided. They were each clinging to but a thread, and with them, so many hopes. So many fears. So many hearts waiting to either be relieved, or crushed.

Tsunade looked back up through the glass. It fell to her to deliver the news. The struggle was not yet over – far from it. But he deserved to know. And so did the other jounin – Gai, Kurenai, even Iruka deserved to know, to hear something about their former students. It had to be done. If she was in their place, she would also want to know, to hear news, any news, good or bad, as long as she heard something. Drawing a deep breath to steel herself, Tsunade pushed open the waiting room door.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

Kakshi heard the footsteps approaching long before their owner’s feet were outside the waiting room door. Somewhere in his fogged mind, he sensed that he had known she would come sometime. It was just like her; even in a crisis like this – for this was indeed a crisis – she could somehow keep her head and do her duty. He heard her heels go tap tap tap on the hospital’s tiled floor. Ever so silently (how she managed that, he would never know), but getting decidedly louder as she drew nearer. Then her steps were right outside the door. Then they stopped. Kakashi wondered why. Their near constant rhythm had melded with that of the clock and had distracted his mind. Without the sound of her steps to drown out the ticking of each second, his thoughts began to haunt him again. But he was too numb now. He could feel nothing. The hand on his head loosened and dropped down. They too were numb. He couldn’t feel the cold of the floor through his sandals anymore. He couldn’t hear the ticking of the clock. He couldn’t hear the voice in his head that questioned him, couldn’t hear his own breathing. Then, it was as if he couldn’t see anymore. He no longer saw the pristine floor at his feet, the blurry reflection of his battered self reflected there, the dirt on his clothes, mixed with kami only now knew whose blood. He no longer smelt the stale, dried sweat on his uniform, or the dried blood, or the clean sanitized artificially perfumed aroma of the hospital. He felt nothing, he saw nothing, he smelt nothing, and he heard nothing.

There was nothing him now.

He had failed.

He had allowed this to happen because of his carelessness … because he wasn’t strong enough.

He was not good enough, not worthy enough to have been called their sensei.

He had failed.

There was nothing for him now.

He should be the one in the OT, not them.

The was the one who should be fighting for survival.

He should be the one to die.

How he wanted to die.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx

He was floating in the blackness, there was no gravity. The feeling of weightlessness was not uncomfortable, just unsettling. This isn’t right, he said silently to himself, for he found he had no physical voice of his own. In the dark, thick blackness he drifted, whether he travelled far and wide, or remained almost stationary in the nothingness, he did not know, nor did he care. This dark existence – or rather, non-existence – was far better than the distant memory of the alternative reality.

He was feeling slightly lightheaded. Or was he just delusional? He didn’t know and there was no way of knowing. To want to know things meant he would have to open his eyes, his ears. It meant he would have to make the choice to want to return to reality. And somewhere in his brain, stirred by some distant memory that he couldn’t quite place, he understood that reality equaled pain – lots of it. That was not something to look forward to; therefore he would gladly remain where he was, floating in this blackness. He allowed his consciousness – was he even awake? – to be swallowed by the empty abyss. He decided he’d had enough. He was tired, tired of the struggle, tired of fighting. Fighting? Fighting what? Who? He no longer remembered, he no longer cared. He was tired. He wanted to rest. Rest. That was a good idea – a very inviting proposal. Yes, he would rest. And he allowed his mind to wander aimlessly. He was just crossing the border between wakefulness and sleep when he heard a disturbance. Wait, wasn’t his hearing impaired? He hadn’t heard anything up until now. But this could just be his own mind playing tricks on him.

‘Wake up…’

What? Wake up? No, he didn’t want to wake up. He wanted to sleep, to rest. He was tired, he wanted to rest. He wanted to be swallowed by the blackness, to not feel.

‘Please, please wake up…’

No, he didn’t want to. He wanted to be left alone. His lethargic mind reminded him that waking up meant returning to the wakeful world – reality. And reality equaled pain. He didn’t want that. He’d had enough. He wanted to sleep.

‘Don’t give in … please … fight …’

Fight? He was tired of it! He didn’t want to fight anymore! He wanted to rest!

‘You have to fight … just a little bit more…’

A little bit more? No way, he was done. No more, please no more. He was tired. He was weary, he couldn’t move. He felt like a huge invisible cushion was pinning him down. He couldn’t breathe. If he didn’t fight, he would be more comfortable, he could rest. Why did he feel this way, then? He didn’t want to fight. Was his body responding to the voice without his consent?

‘Just a bit more … for a while more … you can do it … I know you can …’

No! He didn’t want to anymore! He didn’t want anymore pain! He’d had enough! He wanted to cry out to the voice to leave him alone. And then, just as suddenly as it had come, the pressure was alleviating. Slowly, ever so slowly but surely, the pressure was going away. Yes, that was much better.

‘No … don’t do this … you have to fight … you have to come back …’

Damn that voice. He wanted to sleep. Who was it anyway? He recognized it but he couldn’t put a name to it. Why wouldn’t the voice leave him alone?

‘Don’t do this!’

The voice was more urgent now. Why? Why wouldn’t the voice leave him alone? Fine. He would let the blackness envelope him then, let the abyss consume him faster so that the voice would go away and he would be at peace.

Ah, peace. Yes, that was what he truly wanted. No more fighting, no more pain. No more struggles. Just peace.

‘Don’t go, please … we’ve done everything we can … only you can decide now … please …’

Only he could decide? Well, all was good then. He was already decided. He wanted to go to sleep.

As soon as he thought this, he felt the darkness closing in on him. He thought it would be cold, but it was warm, like a thick blanket. It was comfortable. Yes, this was perfect. Just a little bit more and everything would be okay.

‘No! Don’t go!’

Leave me alone! He wanted to shout back, but he couldn’t, the darkness too thick, she wouldn’t be able to hear him anyway.

‘Don’t go! You have to fight … you have to!’

Why? Why must I fight? The voice was not so clear now; almost like he was hearing it through a thick wall. It was almost done. A few more seconds and he would be able to sleep. Peace at last.

‘She’s still here … she’s fighting … she needs you …’

She? His mind wondered? Who was ‘she’? He didn’t know. But he wasn’t curious to find out, either. He needed to rest. That was all that mattered now. He was finally going to sleep. If that voice would just shut up.

‘You can’t …’

Yes, I can. And he very well could. And he was. The voice was not so clear now. He was moving farther and farther away from it, he could hardly hear its pleas anymore. He would welcome the silence. Ah, sleep. He would embrace it. Rest forever in blissful peace.

There was just one more line he needed to cross, one gate to go through and it would be over. Already he could feel the welcoming warmth around his heart settling in. This is what Heaven must fell like, he thought to himself. He wanted to reach out to the gates that led to his eternal peace. But the voice interrupted him again. How could it reach him so far away? He shouldn’t be able to hear it anymore. But no, this was another voice, he realized. And his heart ached to hear it. Why? Who was this other voice? It was in pain and because of that, so was he. No, this could not be. He was not awake. Pain only came to the wakeful. He shouldn’t be in touch with reality at this moment! Not with the waking world! But that voice, that ache, that pull at his heartstrings. It hurt too much to be ignored. Suddenly, he knew that he would go if that voice called him, no matter how much he wanted his eternal sleep.

I must go immediately through the gates while I have the chance still, he decided. And as soon as he decided this, the blackness carried him there, swift and fast, to the gates as they swung smoothly open to admit him. And then …

‘Neji …’

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Ah, I'm sorry I've been out of touch for so long ... but nevermind, I'm back again and here is the beginning of the end.

I hope you liked this chapter - and like it or not, please review.

Also, thank you to all the people who have been follwing this story since its beginning. I know it's taken a very long time, but I'd rather I took longer on it than running though it and riuning its potential int he process. =D I'm happy with my work, and I hope it satisfies you as well.

Thanks again, and please review

-CherriesandRoses