She Was Life

By:

Fear Die Rothaarige

Everything about her radiated life. From her watermelon shampoo, her vanilla and mint body wash, to the all to familiar weight on her side of the bed. She was a medic nin after all. They strove to give life. They did not bring people to deaths door, they brought people back from deaths door. And that is what she did. She was life.

In the back of his mind he felt that something was wrong as he felt her hands trace his face. Starting at his forehead and working around in a complete circle, the fingertip lightly pressed to his skin. The delicate fingers that had saved hundreds, that were so often warm, were a bitter cold. Was she ill? Or maybe she had just finished off her favorite late night treat, a vanilla milkshake. More than once she had climbed back into bed and stuffed her hands under his shirt to warm them up. Whenever she would do that, often waking him with a start, he would playfully pin her to her side of the bed. Then he would nip at her neck, telling her that she should stop doing that. But never in their five years of being together had she ever stopped her cold little trick. He never really minded because he loved her and because she was his life.

"Sakura." He murmured, voice still thick with sleep and his onyx eyes closed to the world. He felt a chilling fingertip pressed to his lips before he could say anything else. She did not often silence him. He was a man of few words, so when he spoke people tended to listen. But sometimes she would have this wild streak in her mind and shush him. Usually it was to tell him something she deemed worthy enough to make him wait. He expected her to trip over her words to say whatever it is, but he never hears her velvet voice break the silence. Normally she is bursting at the seams to tell him something. Again, his mind nags him that something isn't right.

"I love you." She whispered into his ear, but he feels no breath. It is as if she had not pushed the air from her lungs to speak the words into his ear. Her finger is lifted from his lips, the cold chill still lingering on the soft lonely flesh. Now his mind screamed for him to open his eyes and look. Something was wrong, so horribly wrong.

His eyes flashed open as he bolted up in his bed. The black and red of his bloodline spinning like mad. He looked around the room, everything was in place. His closet door was shut, his next days clothes hanging on the handle. The dim light to the bathroom filtering under the door. Their shared dresser held her medic pouch and his thigh holster along with other assorted odds and ends of their lives. The mirror above it still full of pictures of their friends and their life together. But no where to be seen was Sakura, his fiance.

Then he felt an unfamiliar weight pressed against his neck. He looked down, a diamond engagement ring hanging with his dog tags. And then he remembered. He remembered the mission gone wrong. The screams of agony as he feel to the floor in the hospital waiting room, Naruto with an arm wrapped around him, crying as well. He remembered the stupidly bright spring day when they laid her coffin in the Uchiha cemetery. And the deafening clink of metal on metal when her engagement ring hit his dog tag.

Was it a ghost or an ever fading memory?

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. But I do love how it's going in the manga! :D

I was trying to take a nap when this came to mind. It wouldn't let me sleep... -.- Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Later!