Author's Note: This time in front of the chapter, sorry if that bothers you.

As one might notice, I changed the rating to M. Not because I'm going to use coarse language (though the thought is appealing) or start writing lemons, but because I feel it fits better given the overall content and topic of this fic.

I hope you enjoy and I would love to know your opinion.

Lots of Love.

One hour.

It had been one hour since he had left. And she had cried for this entire hour. She had started as soon as she woke up. And she would not stop for a while. They had fought again; the same routine. It had not been the same though. Something was off. Something was different. She couldn't put her finger on it and she didn't want to. Routine meant the same. Routine meant he'd come back. It meant she was important enough for him to come back.

Thinking hurt her head. She didn't want to. Her eyes hurt enough. Her heart hurt enough. She stared at the ceiling of his room and let the tears continue their stream. For now she hurt. But she would be fine. She would be up on her feet again when he was here. Then she was complete again. Everything would be ok again. Being shattered was nothing. Being together was everything.

Now she noticed that he had not left a note.

One week.

It had been one week since he had left. Her days felt empty just as she did. She was longing for something she could not have. Not yet. But soon. She knew soon he would be back. It got harder every day. Her doubts got bigger. They were drowning her. Maybe he would not come back this time. Maybe he had enough. Did he really love her? He did. She was sure. And she did too. She loved him. Loved him so very, very much.

She avoided people, her friends and family. They didn't matter enough. Her pain was larger than her sentiments for them. It overtook her. She enjoyed it. She loved him, and she loved to suffer for him. Loved to suffer because of him. It gave her existence a meaning.

One month.

It had been one month since he had left. The nights were colder. Her hair was longer. She was sure he would notice. He always noticed the small details about her. He would know how much she had missed him. He would come back soon. She knew he would. He wouldn't leave her alone. He couldn't.

Focussing on missions was harder. But she had to, she was a kunoichi. She had to survive. She had to survive for him. She didn't want him to be heartbroken. But wanted him to hurt. She was in pain and she hoped he was as well. She hoped he suffered during their separation. She hoped he couldn't sleep at night. She couldn't.

Two months.

It had been two months since he left. Never had he been gone for so long.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror and searched for answers she could not give. Maybe he was hurt, maybe he was killed. But people would have told her. He would have let her know. He promised that to her. That promise was made a long time ago though. Maybe he had forgotten it. Maybe he did not. She was sure he had his reasons. He was just delayed. They never spoke bout how long they would be separate anyway. And when he would come back, he would embrace her. He would look her in the eyes and tell her how much he loved her. He loved her so much. He always would. That's what he told her. But that was a long time ago.

Had he noticed how inferior she was, how much better he could do? How many beautiful girls were out there? She shook her head. Maybe she was not good enough but that did not matter anymore. She decided that it had stopped to matter.

Four months.

It had been four months since he had left. Her mind and body ached. Her mind ached for his presence. She was not complete without him. She was not worth a whole person without him. She never had been. She realised that now.

Her body ached because a mission had gone wrong. She was wounded. It was pathetic. She was supposed to be stronger than this. She had worked hard to be stronger than this. She was pathetic. Though she wanted him to see her like this. She wanted him to see her in this hospital bed with bruises all over her body. She wanted him to feel guilty. He should feel guilty and come running back to her. Telling her how wrong he had been to leave her behind. Realising that her rightful place was by his side. And his place was by hers.

Seven months.

It had been seven months since he had left. She was worried. She was worried and angry. Worried and angry and sad and hurt and empty. He couldn't have forgotten her, could he? He had told her so often how important she was too him. He hadn't, she was sure of it. He was not allowed to forget her.

She had not forgotten him after all. There was never a time when she did not think of him. During the day he was in her thoughts and during the nights he was in her dreams. And the dreams were so sweet and then some were so bitter. One time she had dreamed to die by his hand. He had been so generous to relief her of her pitiful existence and to kill her himself. She had never woken up so at peace. It was the only way to die she deemed worthy as his companion.

Eleven months.

It had been eleven months since he had left. They told she lost weight, they told her she looked tired, they told her she was distancing herself, they told her she had changed. What they told her did not matter. They did not matter. Not anymore. She did not matter anymore; her life didn't matter. Only he did.

She only breathed to be by his side again. And she would wait here patiently for him to come back like he told her to. She would not give up. She would never give up. He would come back. She knew it. And she would never let him go then. Because she would never want to let go. He was hers.