Persistence
She was crying again. He could hear her through the paper thin walls sobbing her eyes out like every other night of their miserable lives. And he didn't care.
He never had cared.
She remembered the day she first met him in those tears. She had been hiding from bullies, crying even then, when she saw him. He was sitting silently, brooding and beautiful. He was an angel of serenity and she loved him. As she grew older she found that others saw his beauty and loved him but never as she did. Her love was pure and true while they were only pretenders. She would prevail.
She made an enemy of her closest friend for him. They had stood in the way and had had to be eliminated. Now they fight and squabble over the silent angel who sits uncaring over who will win. She never noticed the other boys she could have loved, the other friends she could have made, or the horror that would be if she continues to pursue that angel. She doesn't see that as she wallows in his presence, mourning his rejection, that she is no longer herself. She has become hard, brutal, a beautiful, brooding angel of ice and fire and pain. She is cruel.
Sweet boys love her and are shot down swiftly. What if saw her with them? What if he thought her love had wavered? She would not tolerate it. But there is one boy that persists. She hates his love. She hates his joy. She hates his face, his eyes, his strength. He could never her angel. But the boy persists.
Time passes, he still persists. Then a new boy calls for her love. She is distressed. Can't they see that her heart burns for only one, forever and ever? No one can be her angel. But this new boy persists. He is strange, loyal, cheerful, sweet. Just as the first boy he is not like her angel. They are opposites. She insults, attacks, and flees all her old tricks. They didn't work on the first boy so why should they work on this new nuisance? He is too strong, he persists.
Years pass and her angel has gone through many changes. She ahs cried for him so many times now and he didn't care then either. She has gained strength, prestige, to be worthy of him. She has fought, killed, yet still cries for herself and her angel. Her love is still pure. The first boy has left her. He was tired of her anger, her coldness, her angel. He has found a real love who is far from blinded, unlike her. She misses him and his persistence. She cries for him too. The second boy, the strong, cheerful boy who was so strange, still loves her but she can see his pain. In his large eyes she sees the hurt of her rejection and cruelty, and yet he is still there for her to spurn. His love wavers but never fails. She is aging, gaining wisdom.
But that wisdom was not enough.
The first boy is married now, his cheerful love warming a new heart. Her angel, not to be out done by his rival, asks her to marry him. And like the love-struck fool of grade-school bullies, she accepts without a thought. They marry quickly. There was no beautiful dress, no flowers, no white chapel or reception. She cries but he is beautiful enough that she doesn't need it. The crying is only a reflex, only sympathy for the strong sweet boy who cries for her. Her angel would never cry… but somehow she can't seem to praise him for it.
Now, here she is again. Just like every other day of their married life. She cries. She cries and he doesn't care. Soon, he will leave again, as he always does whether she is crying or not. He leaves to fight and kill and returns months later, no explanation or smile for his wife. He waits for dinner, sneers, and leave again. It is a formality. Without her there is no clan, and he cannot abide that. In between his homecoming and dinner he expects her to aide in the re-population of his clan. Of course, she complies but as much as she tries she can't enjoy it.
All she can think about are those two boys, now men, which had loved her. The first, in her memories, is smiling and bright. He is funny and sweet despite her ice and anger. His final goodbyes, which she had pretended to ignore, faded into the wind. How could she have been so terrible? The second would love her still if his heart was still beating. He is gone from her now, past all hope of returning. He had always been brave, reckless, and yet not quite strong enough to come back to her to continue loving. Why didn't she tell him? He could have saved her. She has no one to run to.
There is no love in her anymore; not for her angel, not for herself, not for the life that she ruined with her stupidity and blindness.
Now she cries, as she has always done for all her life yet only now does she truly have a reason. She can't leave; she can't die, so she must persist.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. If I did, Sakura would wake up to the truth that Sasuke is a jerk and that her stupidity causes just as much pain as Sasuke's cold, emotionless jerk-face. ...And I'd get to give Naruto a big hug. : )