Her name suited her. Kakashi thought when he walked down the street and spotted her.

Sakura, a beautiful flower.

Sometimes – especially lately, his world seemed dull like it was covered in muddled shades of blacks and greys. But when his eyes landed on her, there was this dash of color. It was pink and happy; red and warm. Green and lovely. It made the tension in his chest ease at the same time it increased it. It was an usual feeling and even after all this time, he hadn't decided if he liked it or not. But he was always searching her out, longing for her. So, he guessed he did enjoy it, the masochist he was.

She was walking with Sasuke who was about to leave for another one of his long-term missions. He took them whenever he could, only staying in the village a couple weeks at a time to be absent for months. Kakashi couldn't say he blamed him, though, after everything he'd been through. He'd even found himself wondering lately, if Sasuke had the right idea. But then he'd see Sakura, smiling brightly with laughter in her eyes. He really didn't.

She was chatting his ear off about something, probably one of her stories from the hospital. Kakashi always enjoyed them when she shared them with him. He hadn't realized the hospital could be such an entertaining place until she started coming by his office with bright eyes and a laugh in her smile. Sasuke was listening to her but it almost seemed out of politeness. Besides his glancing at Sakura every few feet as they walked, it didn't seem like he was really paying attention to her. Not that Sakura noticed – or maybe she was used to it and liked to pretend that he was interested in what she was saying. That was even worse.

Kakashi knew Sasuke loved Sakura. He really did believe that in some place in his heart he held a deep fondness for her. Kakashi just didn't think it was enough.

They were going on a couple years now, seemingly still in the same place they were after they rebuilt the village after the war. Kakashi wondered if they had plans. If there were whispered promises behind closed doors. But then he figured, maybe he was bettering off in the dark. Maybe a surprise would hurt less than just waiting for it to happen.

He didn't think it'd make that much of a difference either way, though.

Sakura's shoulders were shaking with her laughter and she tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. Kakashi's eyes couldn't help but follow the movement. He imagined how it would be different if he was the one walking with her. If she was clutching at his arm as she giggled in the middle of her story. He wouldn't take his eyes off her. He would drink in every look she gave him and file away every word she said. He'd pay attention to her.

He'd love her more.

Sasuke caught sight of him then and Kakashi guessed he must have felt his eyes on them. Sasuke nodded at him, the corners of his mouth turning up just enough to be considered a smile. He smiled back at him, crinkling his eyes and waving a hand.

Sakura looked over her shoulder and followed where Sasuke's attention had drifted to. Her smile widened when she saw Kakashi and he felt that pain in his chest again, but he smiled back at her and made his over to them. Sakura was still holding back laughter when she reached out for him and pulled him into their conversation. "Kakashi! You wouldn't believe… "

Kakashi felt himself smiling under his mask as he looked down at her beautiful eyes and watched her snort between giggles.

As long as she's happy.

She wasn't.

Sakura had always been a very expressive person. Even after going through all her training, he could still see the hidden emotions in her eyes. Green had become his favorite color because of it. How it could make his heart skip with the laughter there and his stomach settle with the affection there. How her eyes could seem like they were smiling, making a warmth rush through him that made him wonder how he'd ever be cold.

But then sometimes, they made his heart constrict with the sadness there, a sadness that twisted like well-placed kunais between his ribs. The disappointment and acceptance. It felt like her life was slowly being drained out of her and the intensity of the green seemed to dull. It worried him more than anything ever had and kept him up at night. What could he do? She was the spark in a world of grey. He couldn't just let her burn out. He couldn't watch that.

So, he did the best he could and tried to keep her distracted from her thoughts.

"Come have dinner with me."

"Help your old sensei out with all this paperwork?"

"Walk with me."

"Do you want to come with me to check on our little will-of-fires at the Academy?"

It was slow at first, but the flame started to flicker back, and he felt like he could breathe again. Her smiles were soft, and her laugh may not be as loud, but it was still beautiful. She was still as beautiful as she always was.

Then, he both loved and hated the way she started to look at him like he was her light in the darkness.

Because that's what she'd always been to him.

He found her one night leaning over the side of the bridge. It reminded him of when she was twelve with determination in her eyes and a skip in her step, and he was twenty-six with depressed boredom in his droopy eyes and a slouch in his back. So much had changed since then, it almost seemed like it was another life. They'd grown because of course they had. But he had never expected for them to grow together.

The moonlight was reflected in the water as she gazed down at it, casting her in a pale glow. She was breathtaking. The muscles of a warrior relaxed and covered with a simple red blouse and black shorts. Her hair a mess as the slight breeze picked up stray pink strands like they were coarse ribbons ready to dance in the wind. They had fallen from her ponytail, but she hadn't bothered to try and fix it.

He didn't say anything as he leaned beside her, looking down at the coy fish she was watching swim around in the river. The only acknowledgement she gave him was leaning into his side. They were quiet for a while, just listening to the sound of the water and the crickets. It had been the most comfortable silence he'd ever shared with someone.

Eventually, she told him softly with her eyes still on the fish, "I sent Sasuke a letter yesterday."

"Oh?"

She let out a small breath, but it sounded more relieved than broken, not like how she usually was when she talked about him. "I ended things with him – officially. Though I'm pretty sure things ended a long time ago… if they had ever even begun."

Kakashi kept his eyes on her face, looking for tear tracks, a frown in her lips, or that dull green he hated. But there wasn't any of that. Her smile was small, but it was there, almost like a secret. She seemed at peace like she'd finally let something go. Was she happy?

He didn't know what to say in response and he settled for a "I'm sorry" that was the furthest thing from honest. He cringed as soon as the words left his mouth. It made him feel selfish that he couldn't even muster up a sincerer response for the end of a relationship that had obviously been important to her.

She met his eyes then with a confused smile. "Why are you sorry? There's nothing to be sorry about. I just… decided I needed to find something – or someone that could make me happy. I deserve that. We both do."

"I –" Kakashi started then sighed. This wasn't the time for that. "You'll find it, Sakura."

She was quiet for a moment, looking at him like she was trying to find some hidden words in the lines of his face, then she smiled and turned back to the water. He felt her put her hand over his on the railing, but he didn't look down in fear it was all his imagination. But he didn't think it was because of what she told him next in a soft and sure voice.

"I have, Kakashi."

He let out a soft laugh, one that was just happy. He turned his hand over and laced his fingers with hers, joining her in watching their fish swim around one another.

He felt like the grey tones were slipping away ever so slowly. Not just around Sakura, but everywhere. In the scales of the fish, the chipped paint of the wood, and the soles of his feet. He felt like she had colored him in like the blank pages of a child's book.