AN: Surprise, random story time!

Sakura lived everyday in ways that conflicted with my views, but also made them better.

She loved the summer sun, it seemed to charge her and give her energy to go about her day with all the endless errands she always had. I wondered if my longer legs were the only reason I could keep up with her. She would go around Konoha with her hair in a rush behind her, as if it barely kept its pace behind her. The sun would catch it and some moments give a warm rose gold highlight to the strands. She could develop a tan that would enhance her features, make the pale tones of her hair and eyes glow. She would get to wear her beloved shorts and assorted red shirts, optioning for her shorter gloves than her long ones for winter. She didn't dip into fashion as some of her other friends, often wearing a type of uniform since it might get blood on it anyways. Other colors didn't fit her like red did anyways in my personal opinion.

Summer also brought out her desire to make cold rice dishes and have simple picnics under the shade of trees. She would find sunsets best in summer, wanting to always sit on our old red team bridge and talk to me until the sun dipped down below the horizon. She would calm down, only going to the markets at night if out with friends. When it was just the two of us, she would want to rehash her days and tell me her true thoughts and fears were. If she could have actually told this patient her mind on their use of sweets as a reward, that maybe she should have given the child from earlier extra stickers to ease their pain. Sometimes I didn't need to add anything, just listen to her hash it out with herself aloud. I could feel her gaze and I knew when to look up and see she wanted my help. Most of the time I told her to calm down, it'll be okay.

Sakura and grown to expect to see most patients never again. She wondered if they would die because she didn't give them an extended week of antibiotics than the standard two weeks, or if they would move on. From the war she didn't know if somebody who she treated would go back out and die anyways from a different wound. She couldn't be certain if they would just accept certain symptoms and never tell her: that then her diagnosis be tainted. She cared so much she worked her head into a tornado of anxieties.

Summer also brought on the majority of our rain. She would sit near windows and watch some, then go back to her scribbles on her many notepads she would juggle on finding and losing. Summer rainstorms were her only times she could bear the heat to sit outside on the deck and work. I knew her favorite tea at this time was green tea with honey. She would even strip down to her basic training bra that stayed under her kunoichi gear, and just shorts. Socks were nowhere to be found, for it was too hot.

She had various fading lines of tans from her shirts and tank tops intermixed in her wardrobe. Sometimes all I could do was stare at the freckles she hid on her back. Some were on her face, but they would blend with her tan. On her back they would should show like stars the lower they went from her neck and shoulders. I could always guarantee a groan of appreciation when I gave her back a massage. She'd drop everything she was doing, another notepad forgotten, and relax under my hands. I remembered times she arched her back ready to fight me, the times I could see her hand with a kunai coming for my throat. Even then I knew both of us were covering our deep parts of our souls with camouflage so we couldn't accept what we really wanted. She would peek at hers often and knew the truth, but I was the fool who never wanted to admit fault.

Summer days reminded me of us as foolish children, too happy to know how dark our futures would get. Our often sorely missed genin days would hit my mind when I'd gaze upon my teammates in the summer. Their smiles hurt to see sometimes, I was still adjusting to the brightness of this new life with them in it again.

When the autumn leaves would start to change, so did Sakura. She was on schedule just as much as the flora. The poetry of her name and how she reacted to things never ceased to amaze me. I could catch her lingering at the doorways in the morning, changing her tea to more spicy flavors of chai and anise. She would wear socks only to sleep, when the nights cooled off. During the day when temperatures would rise once again, she kept her shorts and shirts with maybe the leggings staying on. She would start leaving windows open around the house, airing it out since the humidity steadily dropped as the days grew shorter and nights longer.

She would still flurry around, just with more stops to notice the orange leaves up close. She still insisted going to the markets early in the morning to get the best fruits and vegetables. She picked out more vegetables than fruits though these days. She loved the smell of roasting them and pairing them with meats since we could both withstand the heat of the grill on autumn days. She would start to pick up heavier fabrics before the prices arose so she could start her sewing now. After so many years of missions she knew that making her own would be more fitting. She would get too many rips and tears, unwashable mud stains, and the usual ever constant blood. She started making some for me to be better equipped for my amputation and access to pockets. Sakura loved sitting on the porch more often to take up the sewing, taking breaks with the layers of heavier fabrics became too hot on her lap. Her sewing machine did the long and manageable chain stitches but the pockets and smaller details demanded to be done by hand as tedious as they were. Something in me swelled in price, but also hurt when I'd see her working on our separate clan crests on the backs of the cloaks.

Even though she didn't have much hair to worry about, she wore it down more now. She used random gadgets even I couldn't figure out. They started to sprinkle around the house, some in the bathroom, the night stand, counter space in the kitchen, and even some found their way into my pockets. I had suspicions when we were out in public and she asked if I happened to have any when it got too hot to have it down. Rubber bands with colored threads on them, bobby pins, and random small findings were in my pockets on my left side I didn't use as much. Maybe she enjoyed the advantages of the sewing machine too much.

Less children came in with injuries from their tree climbing excursions and stayed in school and out of trouble. Sakura did start to build up the hospital's inventory of flu supplies to help the elderly who over prepped in caution. Sakura would get headaches of people trying to make themselves sound like a mysterious medical case with things they've never experienced before like runny noses only at dawn and twilight. Never could it be to pollen, no. I would hide my smirk as Sakura came home some day ranting out loud and slamming the windows open, saying how crazy it is herself as a doctor could do so and not get sick. When she'd catch me with the smirk full grown in amusement, she'd pounce, yelling how inconsiderate I was until I calmed her down. We would graduate to the beloved porch, where I would stroke her back until the sun fell and we'd get up to eat more of her beloved roasted vegetables, always making sure for extra tomatoes to be on my plate.

I'd see her still be her natural cheerful self, with more moments reflecting the changes around her. The way I could imagine her noticing things around her weren't right when I started to focus my ways down the path of revenge. I could feel the sting of her eyes looking at the benches that lined the pathways of Kohona. We never talked about it. Often I would pull her closer and under my cloak to erase the pain of all the times I pushed her away in the past.

As the leaves stopped falling and even ceasing to have the crunch, which Sakura loved to hear when she stomped on them, she would finally settle on socks and boots to bustle around the city for winter. Wearing pants only when she was off work since the hospital stayed toasty, she bundled up to do her errands now. We walked along people, her smiles lighting up the days more than the dimmer sun did. She greeted people and would stop her pregnant patients to make sure they were doing well. I would notice her eyes linger on their bumps, making sure they were clothed enough to keep their own little ovens good. She would always take my hand after these stops and never say a word. When we reached the market, we picked up her black teas to match the season. We picked also up more meats and root vegetables to pair with the broth she'd make. We stopped visiting the patio due to the cold and gave up on grilling all together. Longer days at the hospital meant more soups I could help make. I would pick up an extra bag of noodles instead of rice and heave it over my shoulder while shopping. One pot cooking was the best for me to make, and noodles were easy.

More often than not, Sakura would stay in bed longer than normal. I stopped being able to only see freckles on her back, as her skin sank back into her natural pale complexion. I would often wake her by tracing patterns across her skin using them as dots to connect. She also wore more lotions to keep her skin healthy in the drier season. The bed would smell of her even more than normal. I could inhale her coconut and lavender products from her various shower supplies mixing with the healing lotions. I didn't care when I was teased to smell like her floral scent, it would be more of a badge of honor that she slept with me every night. That she stayed after all this time.

I stopped finding the house being littered in hair supplies, and replaced with more hats. I didn't know one needed so many hats, contrasting the few styles I had. Not that it mattered, she would pick which one I would wear at the door. Even if I had already selected, she would giggle as she plucked my headgear off of my head to replace it with something else. She would stay closer to my side when we went out, as the picnics discontinued to happen. She was too tired after work to stay out and on her days off she more than often stayed inside or we visited friends at their houses. I didn't mind so much anymore, since I understood some of the inside jokes lately, and now I could make a dry joke and people not worry if I was psychopathic. I would feel out of it sometimes with too many people around. It's hard to know how to act with that many people, it's too unpredictable, yet I would see her float around as the social butterfly she is.

Sometimes watching her from across the room and seeing her smile and laugh as if the whole room is blurred and she's the only thing I can focus on is my favorite position at these parties. Sakura knew many of the people, some because she had been inside their bodies to heal, and some just lended their mental mind for her to see into and give advice. She was too good for these people, too good for me. Sometimes I wonder if I only see her this way because she knows I'm around. Now she looks to the corner of the room where I'm standing on the sidelines to watch this all play out and she smiles at me across the sea of people. Back then, did she look in these spots and frown because she knew who she really wanted to be here and would rather be discussing things with? Now I could safely make sure tipsy Sakura could make it home, but did past drunken Sakura ever go home to only cry in darkness?

I wondered how often like the quiet and darker days of winter, that the people I left behind also grew so weary. The harsh bitter sting of the cold air seeping through their layers of clothes as they went on missions after missions to find me, only to accept my own coldness towards them. My endless and desperate need to be alone and create our own storm of emotions. Winter was sometimes the most sorrowful season as you would go home to a cold bed.

New buds begun to grow on once barren trees, to sprout into leaves and fill Sakura with new hope as well for her own beginnings for spring. She loved to point out trees we would walk by everyday and see the progress of something new growing where something was once desolate. She would stand on her toes to reach the branches, pulling them down gently for a better view. She missed the thick and fullness of the trees, but twirled in the later blooms of flowers that would spiral around her. Picking fallen flower petals out of her hair grew fond to me. The same childish impulses that caused her to stomp on leaves to make them crunch cause her to skate around petals on the ground so they would be preserved.

I would help pack up our heavier wear to box it back into the closets so she could wear once again her thin sweaters. She loved to match the pale spring tones around her that naturally fit her hair and eyes. This was the one season she didn't look exotic and she perfectly blended into her surroundings. I wondered if perhaps red wasn't always the best look for her, that these softer hues matched just fine. She also picked up pale white and blush teas that didn't need an extra sugar for her morning routines.

As the days started to grow in length for the day and in heat, more hair pins popped up all around me as if fairies used them as confetti overnight. I now started collecting them into piles to organize them into small shallow dishes I bought for her. She also began her days earlier, ready to welcome the sound of birds calling outside. I didn't share the excitement often and opted to idle in bed, before finally arising to be met with more fruit for breakfast than precious months. She started to leave sooner for her job to enjoy more time on the stroll, taking less trips across roofs. Sakura made sure to remind more people to take the same leisure but keep taking their seasonal allergy medicine for higher pollen levels and come to her for help if needed. She would serenade me on our walks with her constant humming of delight. She could carry a tune fine with her voice, but preferred to hum as it attracted less attention. Anytime I would look down guaranteed in an embrace.

With spring she accepted new fruits and patterns at the markets, ready to make new recipes to perfect all year, and as well stitch together new fabrics. She took to repairing holes in sandals or add extra padding that had wore down with use since the past year. She always baked, non stop on her time off. She would insist that I came along to parade around town to carry her baskets of sweets to drop off at homes of others. The man with one arm and a dislike for such goods wasn't the one for the job but nonetheless I would eventually agree. She seemed to always be able to introduce me to new things and help me to accept them into our lives. Even if the new recipes turned into horrid tastings, she would quickly recover and flutter onto a new tactic to save the situation. I could see her will to change and help others.

Everyday I would watch her slowly become more lively, as if a drummer who started slow and would escalate into a steady beat, she pumped life into others. She could keep people going and on their toes about her next move. She never accepted defeat and instilled determination into the younger generations around her. She seemed to have her own golden touch, yet it didn't freeze people solid and make them grow heavy. She lifted stranger's burdens, as if she threw them on her own back and continue to march onward. Sakura often would be venting her emotions and stop to ask me if I was okay, or if I even wanted to continue to listen to her anymore. I always told her yes, of course I did and that I was fine.

She changed with the seasons but each day made me realize things about myself as well. I wasn't heavy anymore. I wasn't so dark. I wasn't so ready to give up on people. I didn't try to bend them to my will anymore. I became loose, flowing through life as Sakura led me through it all. Spring gave Sakura life just as she gave me life. She was my new beginning. She was my past and my future. Each moment in the present with her changed my view, knocking down the walls in my heart, unfreezing my soul, and bending back my blinders for my tunnel vision for destruction.

I didn't mind watching her quirks and seeing her tread through the seasons at all anymore, I could continue watching her for the rest of my life.

AN: That sap fest was brought to you because my mind is random about when it likes to write. Review to let me know if staying up until almost 4 am was worth it haha