Sasuke & Sakura : Nightlights

🔽 Destiny 🔼

Published on: 02.04.18

Words: 2.6k

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Sakura Uchiha Haruno's small world crashed to the ground and shattered like fragments of glass the day she learnt of cruel reality. She now walks naked on that ground.

Her bravery is escaping her fast and despite every effort she has put into hiding the fact, she knows nothing can be hidden from his all-knowing eyes. And she knows that she is hurting him and hates herself for it.

Two eyes and a heart, all injured and crying tears of blood, ache worse than the glass beneath her feet.

She is through pretending that she can brave this. And Sakura is so angry. She hates him right now, for putting her through this. She blames him for his disease, because she does not know who else to blame. Her breath comes in short bursts of painful oxygen, between sobs that feel more like agonizing fits.

Once, crying used to help her feel better. Now it only leaves her with a hollow feeling. Its a never ending lake of pain and she is on her knees in the glass covered ground.

Reality is too real right now and she needs to escape. And she knows he is watching her leave once more from the couch. He blames himself for her pain too. And she is adding to his pain, but right now she doesn't care. Because she cannot breathe - not if she is looking at him.

She is slowly dying too, for he has been her oxygen for so long. And with him gone, she cannot go on. The shattered glass pierces her skin and then she is bleeding through her very bones.

His pain will be over in a matter of months, but hers will go on for much, much longer, forced to live when she'd die along with him. He understands that and he knows that he was the only thing on the planet that could ever break her spirit. So, destiny chose to use him.

He wraps her in a jacket and guides her gently out of the mass of drunk people in the loud club. Two years ago, he could not even put Sakura and club in the same sentence. Since receiving the news of his impending doom, he has helplessly watched her slowly break, pretend and then, watched her mask fall away.

She sobs into her pillow at night and washes the covers every morning before he wakes up. She thinks he can't tell why, all of a sudden, his wife has become a neat freak.

He wants to hold her to him when they sleep, but she has drawn an invisible line between them. He doesn't think she has any other choice but to be angry, or the pain will swallow her whole. He doesn't blame her, but he misses her. He wants to change the situation, to heal, to wipe her tears that belong to him, but he finds himself useless.

She has woken up clutching her heart and grasping for air again. He is soothing her and holding her and breathing into her again. It is not the first time her panic attack has happened. The doctor has told them, her mind is trying to reveal the pain she is concealing behind her anger. As if he did not already know that.

His wife is walking on glass. He has the soft cushion of death as the final end of this physical and emotional curse, but his wife will walk on glass stained with his blood forever after him. Without him.

She feels pain not just in her heart but also her body. Everywhere he hurts physically, so does she. He had heard of sympathy pain, but he hates that she loves him as much as to have to suffer through it.

It will pass, says the doctor. Will it?

They are nearing the third month now. Her anger has almost faded, followed by a depressed, resigned woman. She has accepted the inevitable. He is guiltily relieved at this - at least she is not driving herself mad.