This Feels Untitled
Author: Hiko Mokushi
Theme: #8 — Take it in your stride ; Walk
Pairing: Hatake Kakashi x Haruno Sakura
Disclaimer: Kishimoto-sensei owns Naruto.
Summery: They tried to put a title on it—name the beast and have control over it. She laughed in their faces. It wasn't anything that he'd said, or anything that he'd done. It was merely him.
Author Notes: Written for the 30romances community on LiveJournal. Just something that popped into my head.
"It's okay, Sakura-chan. I don't think you're doing anything wrong," Naruto whispers, though he's not very good at it—it carries across the room. Whether he knows it or not he's suddenly the object of more than a few glares.
The pink-haired young woman glances at the boy next to her and wonders when he grew into a man.
Somewhere along the way, she missed it.
Her head nods, playing with the wedding rings on her necklace. They clink together prettily, like crystal china does at a party when the guests tap their glasses in toast. She's had them for over four years, since her parents died in a freak accident. It makes them feel closer to her, even though the metal is cold against her fingers.
"Thanks, Naruto," she whispers back, leaning her head against his shoulder.
Naruto wraps his arm around her, thumb rubbing against her shoulder. "If you can. . . can you tell me why?"
Sakura's eyes don't even open and she inhales slowly, exhaling softly. "Why what?" Her viridian eyes open for a moment and she pulls her head back far enough to look into her best friend's cerulean gaze. "Why I love him?" For a second her eyes harden, before softening as he requests softly—
"Why not Sasuke?"
"Why indeed?" she echoes, glancing over her shoulder at the dark-haired man on the other side of the coffee shop. "I'm not sure, Naruto. All I know is that when I look at him, it's different. Sasuke made me feel embarrassed—like I had to be good enough for him. I don't feel like that now."
The blond man nods, opens his mouth to agree, but the woman continues.
She slides the white-gold rings along the silver chain; fingers the small diamond of one, scrapes against the band of the other.
Sakura drops her hand to her lap as though the rings burn. "Everybody wants to know why, like I can describe why I love him. Why I chose him over everyone else." She shakes her head, pink hair cascading around her like a waterfall of cotton candy and she fixes her friend with the deepest stare he's seen since the moment Sasuke apologized for nearly almost—(he never sounded very sincere)—killing him. "They act like I can just give it a name and make it so that they'll understand. They want him to try and explain himself, like there's something wrong with it. It's love, though, Naruto; I know it is. The way I feel when he just looks at me is worth risking my life, my honor, my very being, just so that he'll do it again."
Her voice has grown and she almost wishes she could look every one in the shop in the eye as she speaks—she knows they're listening to every word she says, so there's no reason for her to be quiet any longer.
"But I do." A smile breaks through on her face, and she clasps her hands about her, trying to imagine her arms are his. "I love him, and there's nothing anybody can say that will make that different. If we have to, we'll leave. Nobody wants that. They just want him to suffer the consequences like he's some common, petty criminal and not the love of my life. Like he did something wrong."
The kunoichi spun on her seat and stared deeply into his eyes. "I know why I think so. Why do you. . .?"
"Because," says Naruto, shrugging as he takes a gulp of water. "You look happy. And if you're happy, then he must be doing something right."
There's a cough from somewhere else across the room and Sakura turns her head sharply. Sasuke's dark head turns sharply as her eyes skim past his portion of the room. A blonde-headed woman leans heavily on his side, winking over his shoulder behind her bangs.
Sakura merely smiles.
It turns indulgent when hands graze her hips softly, and she leans back against a strong chest.