Still Worth Fighting For(Someday)

The book closes, and so the story ends....

Epilogue: The Book Closes, and so the story Ends...

A/n: Please note that when this was originally posted (on a different site), this story ended three weeks before naruto manga did. So.... The end is just what I thought would be fitting.  On a second note, ever since I originally ended this story a few years ago, I've toyed with the idea of writing at least two prequels that would loosely follow the Naruto manga. And I mean loosely, since those would still be a largely oc centric story. But, I haven't much of an idea of where to begin before shippuden anyways(I got a lot of ideas, and things written for shippuden~!) But, I've been a little worried there wouldn't be much interest. If there is any interest, let me know, and I can see where to start! Anyways, here is the epilogue~! Happy readings~!

Physical wounds are always hurtful,and they bleed, but with time, they heal. What's the most trouble, however, is wounds of the heart. For they often bleed for a very long time, and never heal. They leave a sort of feeling in you like a bad bruise. It only hurts when you hit it. Love comes slow, but is a whirl wind, and when it leaves it leaves a gaping hole in your chest that feels like it will never heal, but time ebbs the hurt in all things. Eventually one learns to deal with that pain. And life moves on.

For Sasuke, the process was hard.

Falling in love was something he had never planned for himself. Sure, he wanted a family, but did that mean he had to love the person who mothered his future children? Love just felt like an aburtary emotion. Something completely useless. Which is why he never expected it to happen to him. It was like he slowly fell in love with Izami. So slowly, that he didn't even realize it had happened until he was already head over heels, and when he realized he was that far gone, he had suddenly found himself completely in love with Izami.

Sure, they had their rough patches. Everyone did, but it just made them stronger, or so he felt.

To him, it was funny how one could care so much about a person that one deludes themselves into thinking that that person is invincible. That there is no possible way that anything could ever happen to them. And perhaps that is why he tried so hard to convince her those weeks that she was not going to die. He couldn't bear the thought. Perhaps that is why, when it finally came, he felt shell shocked. He didn't know what to say. What to think. How to feel. It was like he had lost everything all over again, and he was that seven year old child that was too scared to know what to do. What to ask. It felt like a big hole had been ripped open, and nothing could fill it again, and suddenly nothing seemed to really matter.

But then, he would look at his son. Sure, his son looked much more like him than anyone else, but he still looked so much like Izami. Or at least he saw it. He would see it in the way he would smile. The way his eyes would shine with emotion, or harden like a gem when he got upset. The way his face reddened with embarrassment, or the way he tried so hard to impress everyone with every little thing. It was hard to look at his son sometimes.

The first year was the hardest. He hardly felt like himself, and he was sure he didn't even seem like himself. It felt like he was drifting through life, only watching what was happening, but not really experiencing it. Like he was watching a movie.

There were many times when he'd think he'd see her. Think he'd hear her. But when he took a double take, it was never her, and that hurt more each time. It was like, just when the wound felt like was closing, something would happen to rip open the scab, and it would bleed all over again.

It was when he was alone, when he tried to sleep, that things were at their worst. When he'd close his eyes, all he could see was her. He'd see the long, soft locks of her hair. The way they'd move with her whole body. The way they almost protectively wrapped around her when she slept, or laid on the ground. He'd see her smile, the flash of bright white teeth. He'd never seen her once brush her teeth, and he never understood how she managed to keep her teeth so pearly white. She'd always just laugh, and change the subject whenever he joked about how amazed he was that her breath didn't smell like death.