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Rose Sonata

ローズソナタ

By LianFex

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He was six years old when he first met her. Having lost his way, he found himself in a well-furnished circular room. What caught his attention, however, was the little figure near the large glass windows.

Her small fragile body was nothing compared to the grand piano she was sitting behind. Her dark hair was short back then and her face was rounder. The afternoon sun painted the whole room bright, exposing the faint blush in her cheeks.

Her features looked pale and bland, nothing extraordinary. Nevertheless, to Sasuke, the way she hesitated in playing the piano and her expression was cute. His opinion rose to beautiful when she noticed him and gave him a shy small smile.

"H-hello…" She said, her face starting to gain more color.

"Can you play?"

This question managed to make her face go redder, if this was possible. However, he thought this was strangely cute as well. She gave him an embarrassed smile.

"N-no…but I'm l-learning. Mother said it I could d-do well."

"I could teach you how," He didn't know what made him say it but he was sure he didn't regret it at all. "I know a few."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. Somehow, some color left her face, leaving a tinge of pink in her cheeks. "R-really? But I'm not r-really good…"

"Don't worry. We'll make mistakes together."

So they sat together and started playing.

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She didn't get his name that day nor did she tell hers. However, she did know she like him.

But then they never met again. Her mother died and left her. His father started to pressure her and the growing competition between her and her sister about the family business went serious. More events happen and she became lonelier than that of before.

She strove hard to become what her father demanded her to be.

"I want a daughter with pride and talent."

She strove to become an honor student so that her father would be proud of her.

"Take more advance lessons."

But no matter what, she will never give up the piano, despite what his father would say. Because she knew, deep down inside, her mother's words will never be forgotten.

"My Hinata, do you want to become a pianist? Okaasan was before she got married. I'm sure you could do well. Then maybe you can play a few songs for me sometime, hmm?"

The image of the boy who played with her gradually faded away. Soon, it became nothing but a mere distorted image of pale flesh and dark hair.

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He changed.

In the years that went by, he changed.

His family was massacred and his brother took suicide after attempting to kill him as well. Gone was the young naïve boy who knew nothing about the harsh reality.

His dark eyes went cold. His stature was proud and stoic. No longer who he was before, he threw all the past memories behind and replaced it with the illusions of his parents' death.

However, he knew that, even after years went by, a certain girl with no name would remain in his memories.

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They were sixteen when they met again. Konoha Academy. A prestigious school with an excellent background. Room 3-A. Homeroom class. The adviser was introducing him as the new student.

The boys listened on and the girls giggled. Except her, of course.

Then their eyes locked.

She could not recognize him. The look in his eyes, the cold, stoic expression, and too many changes had been completely different from the sweet silent boy from yesterday.

So she smiled politely.

The same pink blush was still there.

He, however, recognized her instantly. They were few changes. Her hair was still short and her face still looked childish. Her features were still bland and her signature blush was still present.

But he knew it the moment he laid his eyes on her for the second time.

He fell for her all over again.

So instead, he ignored her and went to the table far from hers.

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Three months had passed when she received her first white rose. She was playing the piano in the auditorium then, alone like always after classes, when he appeared and sat down in one of the front seats.

She stopped and looked at him. When he didn't say anything, she proceeded, although she was a bit anxious by this.

Minutes went on. Yet he didn't leave just yet. He remained seated, not even saying a word.

Soon, it's time for her to go home. She stopped and almost forgotten he was still there until she saw him in the same position, fully awake.

She blushed.

"U-Uchiha-sa-"

He stood up, cut her off, and stalked towards her. Then he placed a white rose in her palm, the thorns gone.

"W-what-"

"Don't ask. Just take it."

So she didn't and he left.

He remained cold and nasty to her at school the next day.

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The following year, she received her seventy-second white rose from him. Whenever she asked what it is for, he just said the same thing again.

"Don't ask. Just take it."

Also, she noticed that everytime she practiced playing the piano, he would come by and sat there, in the same chair and in the same time. Strange, she thought, when she did not know if ever he was listening or not.

He'll just give her another rose after her practice.

The white roses were pretty and she did not want it to be thrown away. Somehow, she got this liking to the roses he gave her. So, she started flower pressing.

And thanks to this reason, she liked the job and it became her hobby.

But strangely, she does not feel the same when she's pressing flowers that were not given by him.

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134 white roses. Plus one. With a simple red ribbon tied in its stem. Her 135th white rose was her first special rose she had ever received from him. She looked at him questioningly.

"Happy birthday." He said instead in his signature monotone voice.

She still cannot understand him. They never talked a lot, anyway. But still, she felt special that day.

"T-thank you."

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It was his first time that he didn't appear when she was practicing. She was anxious and worried.

"What if something happened to him?"

Her fingers had stopped playing since long.

"What if he is sick?"

She bit her bottom lip at that. She waited for him but he didn't come. When she went home, her roses paused at 278.

The next day, he gave her two white roses.

"To compensate." He said.

He didn't even explain why he was absent. So she didn't ask.

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"W-why are you giving me w-white roses?"

She trembled badly. She had summoned all her courage to ask him that question and he didn't even budge.

Her roses reached a grand total of 308 and he didn't stop today.

"P-please tell me w-why."

He remained silent.

'You had been g-giving me t-these roses and I-I d-don't even k-know why."

He looked at her just the same. Those eyes stared through her, boring through her soul. She shivered slightly.

"You'll find out, someday."

He gave her another one the next day.

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459th white rose. Another one from the mail. Summer vacation has started and even if they didn't meet, he still sent her roses.

Her family had become suspicious yet her father remained silent. She didn't know whether to be glad or not.

Still, she kept pressing white roses that came from him.

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Her white roses stopped at 698. She later learned that this year, he transferred to another school since he needed to study to that school in order to run the family business. The girls were devastated. Even the boys were sad.

She was depressed.

For some reason, she wanted to see him so badly. Even a simple phone call will do. She tried searching for his new school and address. Even tried calling his phone. But no one knew nor does anyone answer his phone.

So she continued playing the piano. Not just for her mother but also for him.

However, sometimes, she found herself unconsciously counting the pressed white roses he had left.

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Seven months had passed and she didn't receive another one from him. Her connections with him were cut since long. Although she have friends and moved on from her depression, she could still find herself lonely.

Sometimes, when she was playing, she wished he was still there.

When she played, she could still remember his shadowy figure, sitting there, listening yet silent. Then she would wish for his presence back.

She's worried and lonely when she thought of him. She never received any news from him nor does he ever call or visited. It's like he just…vanished.

The girls ran after another guy and the boys hanged out with another friend. His existence in this school just disappeared and she wondered if ever he was just her imagination, created by her loneliness.

Then she had to remind herself over and over again, that the white roses he had left were no illusion.

So she'll try to smile again, despite how broken it is, and play the piano.

Because deep down inside, she wished that her melody could reach him.

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Two months and three weeks. Another solemn birthday of hers. A few friends greeted. A formal dinner at home. Nothing special.

Except the white rose with a red ribbon on its stem. There were no thorns, just like it used to be.

She was surprised. No, too astonished to the point that she was crying. When she received it in the mailbox, she was so stunned that she could not speak. Too glad and overwhelmed, she didn't even notice she was crying.

"S-sasuke…"

She didn't even notice it was her first time she ever said his first name without any honorifics.

698. Plus one. 699.

She smiled. Even if there is no note whatsoever. Just the thought that he remembers is enough.

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After her birthday, she didn't not receive any roses since then. Not even a simple visit or a phone call. Although she is sad with it, just one simple white rose from him gave her a jolt. It's enough to liven her up.

So she played with all her heart.

"Someday," She told herself. "I'm going to be recognized. Then when I play in the grand stage, he'll be there, listening.

Then I'll be able to meet him again."

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Three months had passed. Her recital is today. Still, she hadn't received any roses from him. Yet she had been occupied with practice so she didn't have the time to dwell on it any longer.

The pressed white roses became her reminder. So she played and played until she reached this day.

Seated behind the grand piano and the whole audience expecting a great show, she felt a cold hand gripping her hand. Her hands shook tight and questions echoed in her head.

"Can I do this?"

She gulped subtly.

"Will I make it without mistakes?"

Her hands shook.

"Can I prove myself?"

Then the image of the boy who sat in the stands, just listening at her play, flashed back in her mind. Silent, he was, but curiously, he remained by her side whenever she played. Then her confidence strengthened.

She closed her eyes, shutting the blinding lights behind closed lids. A melody replayed in her mind and her fingers followed the tune. Fluidly, she played. She poured her feelings in her song, hoping that they were able to understand it.

The people were silent, captivated by the song she was playing. She hummed softly as she played. A soft smile graced her lips and her head followed her own rhythm.

Just a few more lines and she would end it. Her notes went complex but she pulled it off gracefully, without any mistakes. All her past efforts and practice were shown in this one show and everyone was mesmerized by it.

With a few notes, she ended the song with a stunning grand finale. The whole audience was silent. Slowly, she opened her eyes and stood up. Then she, with a soft smile on her face, she bowed down.

Thunderous clapping was heard. The people stood up, clearly more than impressed with her talent. She blushed, bowed once again, and turned around to leave before she caught sight of a certain figure near the exit.

Her eyes widened and her heart beat went fast. She cannot be mistaken. She wished this is not a mistake. She was so sure of it. It's like everything went standstill.

He heard.

Her heart hammered on her chest. He went all along.

He heard me play.

Somehow, the thunderous clapping was not thunderous at all. Slowly, the people faded. The music faded. The clapping faded. The victorious feeling was slowly changing into something wonderful. Something magnificent. Something unbelievable.

Unbelievable.

She just couldn't believe it.

Glad. Ecstatic. Delighted. Overjoyed. Thrilled. She wished there are more words to explain what she felt and how happy she was that he had come. She couldn't explain it. She felt like crying. She felt like jumping up and down until she got tired. She felt like shouting until her throat went sore. She felt like telling everybody that 'He came! Oh god, he really came!'

She didn't know when but she rushed back the stage to meet him from the outside. But when she reached the backstage, hundreds of white roses greeted her, all of their thorns cut. She was stunned. She was speechless.

White roses.

Hundreds.

They filled the whole space. She could hardly see any floor or wall at all. Slowly, tears welled up the corner of her eyes. Their over powering aroma, it's like a time machine. It's like she went back to the time when he kept on giving her white roses. It's like the time when she would just play and he would just listen, words not spoken at all.

The scent of white roses, it's like being in love. It's elating, it's exciting. It's like your drowning yourself into it but you can't do anything. It's addicting and yet you don't want to stop. White roses, they remind her of him.

White roses.

She noticed a white envelope locked with a red ribbon on the table beside her (the only one not covered with roses). She opened said letter and Sasuke's neat handwriting greeted her.

Hinata,

These are 300 roses. Don't ask me why I didn't give you any when I was away. I wanted to give it to you personally. And it might be dried by the time it will reach you. I don't even want to consider giving you fake ones.

300. Plus 699 (the ones that I had left).

999.

999 white roses. Finally. I was finally able to give you 999 white roses.

Tiring, isn't? But to me, it's trying my patience. I've been waiting for the day that I'll give you the last rose and it is today. I could just give you 999 white roses in one day, you know. I don't mind.

But I have to give it to you gradually. Just so that you know that this feeling that I had for you is unchanging.

Unchanging,

Steadfast.

Unwavering.

So deep a word. But I got proof. Ever since that day that I met you until onwards, it haven't changed one bit. It might even grow deeper.

I don't know if you still remember but you were trying to play the piano when we met. You don't know how to play much and the notes you were playing were a little sloppy. You don't look enchanting at all and is rather bland. Simple to my taste. But somehow, you captivated me.

It's such a young love, I know. But I know I like you. As simple as that.

I like you. Why? Just because.

Then events happened. I changed. Years went by. Then we met again. Then I know I'm doomed because from the moment I laid my eyes on you, I fell for you all over again. Then it's not a simple love anymore.

It's complicated.

But I kept loving you.

Then I started to give you white roses.

White roses meant a confession, Hinata. It meant a pure love, a love freed from lust. It's a simple, unconditional love. But for a person to give a white rose to the person they love, it means a confession. A declaration.

So from the first white rose the nine-hundred and ninety-ninth, I've been confessing my love to you over and over again.

But why 999 roses?

Because 999 roses meant eternal love. Just like that. I wanted to give you an unchanging, pure, eternal love. A love that will last a life time. Something that is not just for overnight.

I love you, Hinata.

Let me just say it to you in this letter because the truth is, I'm a coward. I can't tell you my true feelings in front of you. Let this letter be my medium. I hope even if this sound cheesy and totally unlike myself, I managed to tell you what I truly felt all these years.

I love you, Hinata.

I'll show this to you over and over again. I'll try my best not to hurt you, although I know I could (This is why the white roses doesn't have thorns). I do have a bad personality and you might get hurt but at least let me show you just how much you mean to me.

So Hinata.

If white roses meant a confession and 999 roses meant an eternal love, will you be mine?

-Sasuke

She couldn't believe it. Words can't explain just what she is feeling right now. She didn't know whether to cry or not. She didn't know whether to laugh or not. So instead, she did both. She chuckled, rather sloppily, while tears ran down her face. She laughed then sobbed. A mixture of them both.

Then she ran away from the backstage, to the open field outside. Still, tears fell while cold night air whipped her face. She didn't mind. It even felt like soaring, like she had finally let go of the burden those endless questions had made.

He loved her.

And that's all that matters.

She saw him near the gate, just underneath the shadows. She saw him, anyway. As soon as he saw her, he stepped away from the shadows, just staring at her.

"Well?" He asked, with his open arms, a ghost of a small smile on his lips. She started to run forwards. "I'm waiting."

END

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A/N (Second edition):
I wanted to alter the letter thing badly. I mean, how could I have known this fanfic will garner this much attention?
I need to edit the letter! Every time I read it, I cringe and I have to stop writing for fear of taking the whole story down.
So I edit it, alter it, change everything about the letter. And somehow, it just doesn't feel right.
My writing style has changed and I am afraid that if I'm going to alter it now, the effect will no longer be the same.

So yes. I have to say sorry, especially to my darling inner-perfectionist-wannabe, that I cannot do it.
I can't make the letter any less cheesier. But, well, who cares anyway? *goes off to read Mockingjay*

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