New Flowers

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|| NEW FLOWERS ||
💐💐💐

She rested her head on her palm, deducing it was the only thing that could really support her right now. Her elbow weighed down on her knee as she crouched in front of the adamantine tombstone she wished didn't exist. She released a sharp sigh, realizing how long it's been since it came to be.

A year.

An entire year passed and she still brought flowers to the stone every week, not avoiding a day. A year has elapsed yet she remembers the ordeal so clearly, still fresh in her mind. She recalls how quickly the feeling of security diminished when she lost him, a feeling she couldn't shake off even until now. Her warmth and confidence had spiraled into an abyss, her mind trapped in a storm. She felt disabled, even now when she had read his name carved into stone, her heart rate slowing knowing that she'd never feel, know and/or be in that warmth ever again.

The more she thought of it, the more resentful and alienated Tenten became, and the worse things got.

She had failed to recuperate.

Still, the pitfall of crying never got to her. Her face was whitewashed, pale as the moon, yet no tears to coat her cheeks. She had wished she had cried because it seemed like she didn't care but, she had cared so much. Yet her cheeks were missing the trace of a slug on a leaf, the taste of salt on her lips.

Tears hadn't fallen, but certainly she was crestfallen.

Yet she still wanted to sob, to cry, to feel it all, but she felt... dead. It was as if her feelings couldn't cope with her heart or her mind, and refused to leave its cage. A silent war raged in her mind, subduing her to the point watching paint dry became a hobby. A torrent of tears could wash away any war, hell, even a tsunami, a stream, an ocean.

She didn't even need to break down, a steady stream of liquid could wash away the poignancy streaming in her veins, the poignancy that was deadening her spirit entirely.

But there was nothing, and it was physically, mentally — even verbally, troubling her.

She remembered when the war was over, recalling the funeral they held for Neji a few days shortly after. She had vaulted onto her bed, hugging her pillow tightly to her face, struggling to accept the torment. She had clung to the pillow, hugging it so close she was sure to suffocate herself. Her face had flushed red, and she couldn't hear anything but the intermittent beat of her heart. Her lungs had rummaged for oxygen, the flesh under her ribcage throbbed, but there wasn't a single tear. She could only whimper and curl her hands into fists that she didn't even have the energy to use.

Perhaps, it wasn't sadness that had gotten to her, but the anger that she was slowly drowning in.

But what was she so angry about?

She gulped as she slowly got to her feet she thought wouldn't be able to carry her, and reposed the newly bought bundle of flowers beside the tombstone she couldn't bear to scrutinize any longer. It might have been foolish, to have not gotten over a loss, considering how his cousin already has found a family and moved on.

But she was alone.

Maybe that's why whenever someone brought up his name, her breath would clog up in her throat, her ears would burn but she would be frozen to the spot. There wasn't anyone else there to share the same feelings. Even Might Guy and Rock Lee had found happiness once again.

She felt disappointed in herself.

She couldn't accept it even after the melancholy thoughts, a sense of dysphoria overwhelming her. Slowly, she was becoming despondent, her realization becoming her truth.