Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Of Ups and Downs, Remember? ❯ Chapter 1

Of Ups and Downs, Remember?

By: emeraldoni

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

 

 

He was gone.

 

Of course he was, and it had been quite a while since he left so suddenly. It wasn't he like he had a choice, but that didn't change the fact that he would never return.

 

Not ever.

 

Never.

 

He was gone.

 

She knew this. It was hammered into her head every day, her heart once torn, scarred over with a fibrous substance tight and ready to rip open in barely a moments notice. It was unacceptable, but somehow she had accepted it, reluctantly giving into the fact that it was over for him. He had his run, short and bitter as it was, and now it was time for him to rest.

 

Some might consider it morbid to mourn his ghost on such a night when all things dark rose up in a fit of sticky sweets and bubbling laughter. She liked to think of it as ironic. Really, who went to visit a grave on Halloween night? Many were too superstitious. She did it because she was left alone, the clearing surrounding the tablet empty as people celebrated the revered holiday.

 

It was cold, she decided, hair standing up on her arms and neck as a biting wind swept passed her, carrying away leaves to another place all together, barren trees creaking with silent cries.

 

A numb finger brushed the names with a whisper across the memorial, stopping at one engraving, before dropping away.

 

“I heard a joke today, Sasuke-kun.” Her voice was darker than the night, lost in the sounds of dusk, as quiet as the dead, “It's really pretty stupid, but I laughed anyway. It goes like this-

 

“Three men checked into a hotel, one on every floor. The man on the top floor wanted a window to shave out of—” she giggled at this, “the man on the second floor wanted his window to pee out of—who knows why though, right, Sasuke-kun?—and the man on the bottom floor wanted to eat pickles out of his window.”

 

She kneeled down onto the frozen ground, dry grass scratching against her legs, leaving a tingling itch left unscratched, “Well, one day they were all out doing there thing, when the man on the top floor dropped his razor. Stupid, I know, like this is even possible. But, anyways, the razor fell, hitting the man who was peeing and chopping off his—you know. It just so happened at the time that the man on the first floor had dropped his pickle, not even noticing that something else fell into his hands. He took a bight and said, `Hm, this tastes much softer than the other pickles.'”

 

She was silent then, letting her bright locks fling themselves into her face, blocking her eyes, wrapping around her neck. A laugh sounded through nearly blue lips, hollow and grating, cut off abruptly with a sigh.

 

“Well, I guess I better go now.” With a wave of her numbed hands, she began to walk away, “See you next year, Sasuke-kun.” Unless I happen to see you before…

 

Shivering slightly, Sakura strode through the trees separating the memorial tablet from the town. She was thankful of those trees, hiding away her sorrow—in a sense, her shame—from the rest of the village. Privacy was what many people wanted—no, needed—when they visited those lost, now only a name inscribed in stone, as much as they were inscribed in their fellow peer's memories.

 

Her skin prickled, and Sakura glanced up, suspicion lacing her shadowed, emerald eyes as she searched for the origin of the odd feeling. Seeing nothing, she hunched back into her self, trying to stretch her clothes into something warm, but failing miserably. The wind seemed to just bight into her just as much as before, if not worse, nipping at her like a dog at a cat's heels.

 

Sakura stiffened as she felt a finger trail up her spine, a warm breath whispering softly against her neck.

 

“Sakura...” A low voice said, just as masked as the person behind her.

 

“Okay,” she said, muscles tensing with adrenaline and chakre, “I don't know who the hell you are, but I don't like people messing with me.”

 

A husky laugh sounded, followed by lithe arms circling her waist, “But Sakura, don't you like the Boogey man?”

 

“No, I don't.”

 

Another laugh; and Sakura finally began to realize who it was behind her. He could never be serious for long, acting like some type of gothic incubus. Really, he was much too light for that.

 

“You're an idiot. Stop it.” She muttered, attempting to turn around but to no avail.

 

“Ah, Sakura-chan, don't be that way!” The huskiness had gone, only to be replaced by an all too familiar whine.

 

“I can't believe I actually let you get me there for a second.”

 

“You were supposed to be tricked for more than a second.”

 

Sakura finally unwrapped herself, turning around to face Naruto with a critical eye, “What the hell are you wearing? Why do you have black bandages over one eye?”

 

Naruto pouted, “You don't know what I am? Why doesn't anybody get it?”

 

“Because, idiot, you have to—never mind, it'll be lost on you anyways.” Sakura sighed, rubbing her forehead, “Okay, so, what are you supposed to be? There, I took the bait.”

 

Naruto grinned, scratching the back of his head, blond hair glinting even in the murky forest and dull light, “Remember that one mission in the Land of the Mist, we went to the docks and those guys were there, except they had bounties on their heads? Remember, remember? We even got to chase some of them down—”

 

“Calm down, Naruto, I remember.”

 

“Anyways, I decided to be one of them. They called themselves `pirates.' Pretty cool, huh? Creative and all that, right?”

 

Sakura giggled, cheeks pinking from mirth, “Jeeze, Naruto, you don't look like them at all. They looked completely normal. You, well… don't.”

 

“Aw, Sakura-chan, you don't like my costume?”

 

The pink-haired kunoichi rolled her eyes, hooking Naruto's arm with her own as she began to amble back to town, eager to escape the cold, “Your costume's definitely creative. I'll give you that.”

 

Naruto grinned, revealing a wide smile of pearly whites. Sakura just twisted her lips wryly, “You really are an idiot.” She said, bopping him slightly over the head.

 

Naruto mocked a hurt expression, his face soon dissolving into a rare mask of seriousness, “Sakura? Are you all right? I know this is when…”

 

“Yeah, I'm fine, Naruto.”

 

The Kyuubi container sighed, lopping his hooked arm around her waist, “I know Sasuke, in his right mind, wouldn't like you doing that.”

 

Sakura sighed with as much gusto as the boy beside her had, “I know, but I have to. He is family after all.”

 

“Hm.”

 

They walked in a thin silence for a few more steps, the lighted glow of Konoha greeting them in a welcoming warmth that soothed both shinobi. Comforted slightly, Naruto pursued the topic, “Maybe so, but I don't like that you do it at the memorial tablet. You know he's not… They say he is, but he's not…”

 

Sakura sniffled, not from tears, but from the freezing temperature, “I know that… it's just… I don't know… It's my only link, I guess.” Her eyes were riveted on the ground before them, feet flashing in and out of her vision over a cobbled road. “It's stupid, I know.”

 

“Don't say that, Sakura. It's my fault anyway. I promised you, right? He'll come back, by force or choice, he will come back.”

 

With a twitch of her lips, Sakura whispered, “Thanks, Naruto. I'm glad, though, because at least I have you.” Trying to lighten the mood, a wicked grin spread over her delicate features, “By the way, Naruto, I have to get you back for tricking me earlier.”

 

“Awww, Sakura-chan, please don't! I just got over the last beating you gave me!”

 

“I do not beat you! I think my punishments are fair and balanced!”

 

“Just like the layer of bruises all over my body.”

 

Sakura scowled, “I don't beat you all over.”

 

Naruto pushed her even further, teasing her to the edge, “You only leave the parts that are useful to you.”

 

She blushed, “Shut up. You know what? You get to sleep at your own apartment—alone—tonight. No bed-buddy for you.”

 

Naruto stuck his lower lip out, whiskers blatant on his angular face, cerulean eyes bright with mischief, tricky as a fox. How ironic, “Sakura! Don't do that! I'll make it up to you. I promise!”

 

Pulling away, Sakura turned to face him, arms crossed, feet tapping, “Oh, yeah? How? Will you make me breakfast for a month? Or maybe kiss my feet and—”

 

She was cut off by his lips meeting hers, stern but gentle, soft but unyielding. His hands cupped her neck and face, treating her more like a flower than she would ever be. Sakura's hands wound up twisted in Naruto's ripped jacket, the supposed pirate jacket.

 

Gasping, he pulled away, “Is that better? I can make it up more, if you want.”

 

Cuffing his ear slightly, Sakura grabbed his warm hand, fingers interlacing with each other.

 

“Fine, fine. Whose place is closer, mine or yours?”