epilogue.

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Genma was not the bravest shinobi. Nor was he the smartest or strongest. But as he let Sakura leave their house on the night of her and his best friend's anniversary, he sure as hell felt like it.

She was as beautiful as always. Her rosette hair had grown to her waist, but she normally left it in a braid. Her emerald eyes sparkled with the happiness that was so characteristic to Sakura.

He knew she would never be the same. At least once a month, there would be a night where the panic attacks came or she hung on for dear life after they made love. The copycat ninja's death had permanently scarred her but all scars will eventually fade to the point you can hardly see them at all. That is what Genma kept telling himself as she waved and ducked out the door. He waved back and smiled at how her diamond ring had shimmered in the dim light.

She would be coming home late. It was the same each year. She would once again lean down beside that unforgiving memorial for fallen shinobi and mourn her lost love. Each year she came back with freshly healed hands, from where she had hopelessly tried to erase his name. Genma tried imagining what happened every year but he would never go with Sakura to the stone. This one night out of each year she pretended that the ring on her left hand was given to her by Kakashi and that he never died.

In his mind, he saw Sakura kneeled gracefully beside the memorial, eyes closed in deep thought of the good ol' days. Then like magic, Kakashi would appear from the woods and kneel beside her. He would kiss her and wrap her petit body in his.

And once a year, Sakura would be happy. But not because of Genma, which hurt him more than anything else could.

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