Categories > Anime/Manga > Naruto > To End is to Begin Again
Disclaimer: uh...no, not mine, that much is obvious
A/N: The second part of a two-parter. As always comments/critisms/suggestions are welcomed with open arms!
They are old, tottering towards death, shinobi far past their prime and decades from Konoha. Choosing to follow in the footsteps of their mentors they left their home behind, turning their backs on familiarity to forge new paths. A lifetime later she is still content with her decision; leaving is sometimes the only option remaining.
The forest is gloriously ablaze with the colors of fall and she almost misses the cabin amongst the chaotic display. It is falling back upon itself, returning to its' more elemental components, overwhelmed by the surrounding vegetation. It startles her and she stops short, not surprised when he stumbles into her. He wraps his arms around her waist, steadying them both, dropping his chin to rest against her hair. Despite the fact that the blond has faded to silvery gray he's still an intensely physical man and she welcomes the comfort his touch brings. They stare at the cabin in silence, lost in the tangled webs of memory.
After the clearing, after Itachi, after she had healed what damage she could, he had remained at the cabin, eking a life out of a forest that whispered at the edges of his mind. She had come back as often as she could, her life inside Konoha fading as the life outside it grew. He had come back as well, the threads of their bond too intertwined to separate easily. They had eventually tumbled into tenuous intimacy, as bittersweet as it was beautiful, equally shared and equally given. The first time he had spoken of love she had cried, though not for the reasons he imagined.
They had lived a split life for as long as possible, taking whatever joy they could from their time together. He had stopped coming for a while, his drive to become Hokage moderating the extremes of his behavior. In the end the council had ruled as she had always secretly feared they would and he returned to them, harder and more jaded, until his natural ability to adapt asserted itself. She had left when her parents were dying, spending their last months at their sides, ignoring the whispers and looks that came more frequently with the passing of years. They had died a few short months apart and when she'd returned to the forest it had been for good.
He stayed tied to Konoha longer, unwilling or unable to turn his back on the friends that meant so much to him, even for the two who meant the most. Shikamaru had been the last of their comrades to die, and they attended his funeral together as they always did, solidarity in the face of sorrow. For all their collective genius they'd died too young, kunai or shuriken in hand, sacrificed for the Konoha they believed in. When it was over she stood and watched him go to Konohamaru, a courtesy to ask for what he was going to take anyway. They left through the gates one last time and at the edge of the old forest he turned, raising his hand in acknowledgement to the place he'd called home for nearly forty years.
They'd had five more years together. On his deathbed he had remembered them, remembered who he was. It was the only time she'd ever seen him cry. They'd sat with him through the night, explaining about the jutsu and Itachi and the council's decision to turn his supposed death into reality. How they had pled their case to Tsunade and how she had cared for Naruto enough to grant them their wish.
He had smiled at the end of their storytelling and it had looked strange on his face, the old Sasuke's face.
They had buried his ashes at the cabin, staying a fortnight longer before the memories became overwhelming. When he asked her to leave with him, to follow the path Jiraiya had prepared for him, she went without question. She had loved them both, had loved him before the cabin in the forest and had continued to love him...
"Who knew I'd miss the bastard."
His voice is gruff, and it drags her from her memories. There is a smile on his face but she can read him well, hear the ache beneath the cavalier façade. They all loved one another tremendously, beyond all sense and reason, far more than any three people had a right to love. The passage of years has done little to patch the hole in her heart where he once stood though the man at her side has helped to mend it.
Turning her head she tugs him down to press a kiss to his lips. They will repair the cabin tomorrow but today she is simply happy to be home.
A/N: The second part of a two-parter. As always comments/critisms/suggestions are welcomed with open arms!
They are old, tottering towards death, shinobi far past their prime and decades from Konoha. Choosing to follow in the footsteps of their mentors they left their home behind, turning their backs on familiarity to forge new paths. A lifetime later she is still content with her decision; leaving is sometimes the only option remaining.
The forest is gloriously ablaze with the colors of fall and she almost misses the cabin amongst the chaotic display. It is falling back upon itself, returning to its' more elemental components, overwhelmed by the surrounding vegetation. It startles her and she stops short, not surprised when he stumbles into her. He wraps his arms around her waist, steadying them both, dropping his chin to rest against her hair. Despite the fact that the blond has faded to silvery gray he's still an intensely physical man and she welcomes the comfort his touch brings. They stare at the cabin in silence, lost in the tangled webs of memory.
After the clearing, after Itachi, after she had healed what damage she could, he had remained at the cabin, eking a life out of a forest that whispered at the edges of his mind. She had come back as often as she could, her life inside Konoha fading as the life outside it grew. He had come back as well, the threads of their bond too intertwined to separate easily. They had eventually tumbled into tenuous intimacy, as bittersweet as it was beautiful, equally shared and equally given. The first time he had spoken of love she had cried, though not for the reasons he imagined.
They had lived a split life for as long as possible, taking whatever joy they could from their time together. He had stopped coming for a while, his drive to become Hokage moderating the extremes of his behavior. In the end the council had ruled as she had always secretly feared they would and he returned to them, harder and more jaded, until his natural ability to adapt asserted itself. She had left when her parents were dying, spending their last months at their sides, ignoring the whispers and looks that came more frequently with the passing of years. They had died a few short months apart and when she'd returned to the forest it had been for good.
He stayed tied to Konoha longer, unwilling or unable to turn his back on the friends that meant so much to him, even for the two who meant the most. Shikamaru had been the last of their comrades to die, and they attended his funeral together as they always did, solidarity in the face of sorrow. For all their collective genius they'd died too young, kunai or shuriken in hand, sacrificed for the Konoha they believed in. When it was over she stood and watched him go to Konohamaru, a courtesy to ask for what he was going to take anyway. They left through the gates one last time and at the edge of the old forest he turned, raising his hand in acknowledgement to the place he'd called home for nearly forty years.
They'd had five more years together. On his deathbed he had remembered them, remembered who he was. It was the only time she'd ever seen him cry. They'd sat with him through the night, explaining about the jutsu and Itachi and the council's decision to turn his supposed death into reality. How they had pled their case to Tsunade and how she had cared for Naruto enough to grant them their wish.
He had smiled at the end of their storytelling and it had looked strange on his face, the old Sasuke's face.
They had buried his ashes at the cabin, staying a fortnight longer before the memories became overwhelming. When he asked her to leave with him, to follow the path Jiraiya had prepared for him, she went without question. She had loved them both, had loved him before the cabin in the forest and had continued to love him...
"Who knew I'd miss the bastard."
His voice is gruff, and it drags her from her memories. There is a smile on his face but she can read him well, hear the ache beneath the cavalier façade. They all loved one another tremendously, beyond all sense and reason, far more than any three people had a right to love. The passage of years has done little to patch the hole in her heart where he once stood though the man at her side has helped to mend it.
Turning her head she tugs him down to press a kiss to his lips. They will repair the cabin tomorrow but today she is simply happy to be home.
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