Note from the Author: This is pointless, and everyone's OOC, but I loved writing it. Oh, and those of you who live in the Midwest area and are going to Anime Central, let me know so we can yell a "Hello!" to each other there.

This is the last one-shot in Shinobi Sparkles, I am afraid. Thank you to everyone who has supported this series, and look out for another compilation, because you know I'm not just done writing one-shots!

Springtime

The breeze through Konoha is warm, carrying upon it ramen and wildflowers, the shrieking laughter of playing children and the bustle of life. The births that identify this as springtime seem to jump out from nature, and one is likely to see a flurry of fluffy newborn ducks scuttling after their mother down the street as one is to see a child. Smiles permanently decorate the pale, winter-filled faces of the people, and the joy of summer is leaping into hearts prematurely.

The shinobi are lazing on this beautiful day. Missions are scares; it seems that no one is in danger, and no one is doing wrong. This moment of flawless springtime cannot be tainted with bloodshed. This is an evanescent time, a fleeting minute, that they do not take for granted.

A dandelion falls lightly across Naruto's cheek, brushing like a yellow kiss against his skin. He smiles sleepily from his pillow of grass at Sasuke, whose lethargic fingers are the cause of the flower's affection. He hears a floral sigh, like a breath of wind, and Sakura's cheek rests lightly against his knee, her lovely fluorescent hair blanketing his sunny pants. His eyes turn briefly to the sky before recognizing the elbows beside his head as Shikamaru's, and there is a murmured comment about clouds, and the crunch of potato chips that signify Chouji's presence, then a natural quiet, an undisturbed peace.

The flowers invade his sight again, as Ino's fingers crown Sakura's head so appropriately with cherry blossoms, like this moment to them is forever. This moment will be forever, he thinks, and the thought stays with him as he hauls himself up, his lips upturned at quiet Hinata, giggling softly at the dog that has made himself comfortable in her lap, and quiet Neji beside her, whose fingers are twined in the white fur, pretend that they never hurt this girl he has come to adore. Kiba's grin is not mischievous now, as he throws himself beside his teammate, and Shino does not seem quite so distant now, sitting beside him.

TenTen's laughter is muted, her legs sprawled in the grass, and amusement in her gaze is held just to her eyes, her smile not questioning the seriousness with which Lee thinks he is speaking, his hands gesticulating. Sometimes they light on hers, friendly and familiar, and she lets them remain, before they move off, like a butterfly resting on flowers and startling away.

Naruto's fingers find the dandelion that Sasuke has discarded, and his body falls backward into the grass that cushions him, as the flower possesses his sight. He finds it difficult to concentrate on life right now, with the wind teasing his hair across his forehead and the sun shining warm against his face. The beautiful uselessness of this moment is one he will hold forever, with these people who will never let him be alone again.

"Naruto," Sakura's flowery voice melts his reverie, and her green eyes seem brighter when they turn to him. It is not a question, not meant to request his attention, but spoken as universal. "You'll never change, right?"

Sasuke's dark eyes turn to his face, and the look in them is more gentle than usual, less guarded. His pale fingers brush absently at a golden strand of hair that has fallen across a blue eye. "No, he won't, Sakura." His voice is soft, almost affectionate. "If he changes, the whole world will have to change too."

Naruto smiles, his arm straining to swipe the dandelion's petals across his best friend's porcelain cheek, and it seems suddenly that words would ruin everything so he stays quiet. Lee has stopped speaking, and TenTen is humming softly, picking lightly at the grass around her sandaled feet. Akamaru has left Hinata's lap in favor of the crook of Kiba's arm, and the white eyes of the shy girl have closed, her cheek nestled softly against her cousin's shoulder companionably; a ghost of a smile has settled contently on his lips as he braces himself against the ground on his arms. Kiba's eyes are raised to his other teammate's face, lips forming words that seem too quiet to come from the flamboyant boy. It is evident, even through his glasses, that Shino is paying close attention, as if he is saying the most important thing in the world.

They recognize the significance of this moment. This may be the last day they are all together. Tomorrow may not be so beautiful that the world is on hold. Tomorrow, maybe they will have to go back to being saviors. Who knows how long before they all must make that ultimate sacrifice? Tomorrow, maybe Neji will not be here for Hinata to lean on, or Ino will not be making flower crowns for Sakura. Tomorrow, maybe they will be attending the funerals of their teammates.

But tomorrow doesn't matter just now, and something possesses Naruto's fingers to twist in the blue cotton of Sasuke's shirt, the pink wisps of Sakura's hair, silently imploring that they never leave him. They seem to understand, and they seem to melt together, but maybe that is just Naruto's sleepy eyes falling closed.

The breeze through Konoha is warm, carrying upon it potato chips and Sakura blossoms, the quiet hum of an alto kunoichi and the soft panting of a happy dog. The lives that identify this as springtime do not so much jump from nature as sink quietly into it, accepting that this moment may be the last and all must leave a tattoo upon the earth. A group of friends smile their joy, not prematurely, but maybe a little too late, and they each are busy stitching their names into each other's hearts.