A/N: While listening to my iPod on a very long and boring drive to Dallas, "Just a Dream" by Carrie Underwood came on. Because I've recently rekindled my love for Naruto, the second verse and chorus inspired this extremely depressing story. Written in three parts. Please enjoy!

It's like I'm lookin' from a distance, standin' in the background,

Everybody's saying, "He's not coming home now."

This can't be happenin' to me.

This is just a dream.

Chapter 1: The Funeral

Slipping into the black dress reserved for mourning, Sakura paused to study her reflection. Her pink hair hung limply around her face, still as damp and lifeless as it was in the rain that day. She was pale and there were bags under her eyes, and her irises were almost gray instead of their normal vibrant green. All in all, she looked half-dead—rather fitting for a funeral.

Naruto and Sai were waiting for her. Sai didn't move when she came out the door, but Naruto did; he stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She patted his hand and tried to smile, but it came out as a grimace. Then they started to walk.

Of the three, Sakura lived the furthest from the Academy building, but today she didn't mind. She was still hoping this was all a bad dream and that she was going to startle awake to her alarm clock at any moment. But the closer they came to the building, the more real everything became.

They arrived to find a crowd already gathered on the Academy roof. Iruka waved them over, wearing a sad smile. Yamato was standing behind him and studying the ground intently as Iruka opened his arms to hug both her and Naruto.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered as they embraced. "I know he meant a lot to you."

Naruto muttered something and Sakura nodded, her heart wrenching. It was hard not to compare Iruka to Kakashi. Normally she and Kakashi were thrown together at any kind of social event while Naruto was dragged into a rowdy drinking game and Ino fawned over her latest conquest, and she would listen to his glib chatter or bask in his comfortable silence as they kept each other company. Iruka's hug was nice, but… it just wasn't the same.

When the embrace ended, Iruka pulled Naruto aside and Yamato stepped forward to hug her too.

"Don't blame yourself, Sakura-san," he said, patting her shoulder comfortingly. "It wasn't your fault."

She smiled faintly as the crowd began to fall into neat rows. "He died a hero, right?" she said, surprised her voice didn't crack. Then she turned away before he could reply.

She managed to snag a spot between Naruto and Sai near the front of the assembly. Letting her gaze idly wander the portraits of the fallen shinobi, her watering eyes stopped on the only face she recognized.

"Thank you all for coming," Lady Koharu began as she and Lord Homura moved to stand before the orderly lines. "We are gathered here today to honor the deaths of Tanaka Hashi, Suboshi Aiko, Kubota Gin, Sawabe Kaya, and Hatake Kakashi."

Naruto reached over and took Sakura's hand in his, squeezing it tightly. She glanced at him and saw his cerulean eyes were leaking just as much as her own.

The ceremony was long and tedious as the two elders spoke on the behalf of the five deceased shinobi—detailing their mission work, discussing their personal attributes, and extending their condolences to mourning families and teammates. Kakashi's eulogy was longer than the rest—which was to be expected from a man who had been a registered ninja since he was five years old—but Sakura didn't listen. How could they understand what she and the rest of Team Kakashi were going through? How were meaningless sympathies supposed to mend her aching heart or ease the wrenching guilt for having been responsible for his death? He was gone, and it was all her fault.

A/N: Do you know how painful it is to kill off your favorite character? Extremely painful, I tell you what. Anyway, are you sad yet? But you can't stop reading now! The next chapter is a flashback.