Title: ghosts of times past
Authoress: pandastacia
Summary: He throws away all possibilities of future happiness even as the crowns are set on their heads.

Cameras flash and she smiles broader as people cheer in the background.

Her name and that of her companion rises above the rest of the din.

"Sakura! Sasuke! Sakura! Sasuke!"

They're endless and she feels the pressure to smile increasing with every breath straining against her corset.

Her hand rests lightly on his arm, but she can feel tension rolling off him like waves, meeting the aura of annoyance he carries as a shield.

Without looking down, she knows it isn't because he's wearing dark blue and she's wearing yellow with an ethereal skirt. (He wasn't the artsy color-coordinated guy, though even he could tell that Naruto's all orange outfit was atrocious,)

She knows it isn't because it's loud. (Although, she thinks, that makes perfect sense too. She knows he hates all the unnecessary attention for something he doesn't consider important.)

She knows that when he's not even saying something in her ear- not even his customary "Aa", "No", "Hn"- he's extremely pissed off and there is nothing she can do about it.

Maybe she's just another girl who is in his class to him. She's just one of the few girls who has learned to not touch him unless it's absolutely necessary. She's one of the few who admire him from afar.

But in the end, he doesn't care.

He doesn't know that she is well acquainted with his family story.

He doesn't know she visits his parents' graves every Sunday to pay her respect to the godparents that would bounce her on their knee at the age of seven- days before their own son took their life.

He's never seen the picture sitting by her bedside with their smiling faces and connected hands and insistence to never let there be distance between them.

He's forgotten their bond growing up. Forgotten sunny days on a tire swing, rainy days when rain beat on the dojo roof, summer days with picnics by the lake, wintry days with snowmen almost seemed to build themselves.

He loses himself to the pain.

He remembers the pain and cherishes the feeling of a katana in his fist and vengeance in his heart.

He doesn't know her.

But she remembers it all and cherishes the memories even as he pushes her away- forgetting to forget the pain.

Cold metal settles on her head, barely making an indent in the hair that had been swept into a loose bun. The noise increases and, somehow, the cameras manage to become brighter- like mini suns behind closed eyes.

Turning, Sakura sees an obnoxious red crown being set on Sasuke's head, his eyes as emotionless as ever.

Waiting patiently for the claps, cheers, and cameras to finish, Sakura hums a soft tune to herself- one that she remembers almost dimly from days long past.

In front of her, she can almost see cherry blossoms falling slowly from the old tree that had once been in front of the Uchiha manor. Three children dance beneath the soft layers of pink. She can almost not see herself as she blends in, however Sasuke's dark attire and hair as well as Naruto's fading orange jacket stick out. Birds chirp and fly through the petals in aerials and swoops and dives. Light blue sky had few clouds as balloons danced in the-

"Sakura."

A flat voice makes her jump and the soft music disappears.

"Stop spacing out. We can move now."

Faintly blushing, Sakura steps delicately down the stairs and started around the parents in the room, Sasuke loping at her side.

Even when he doesn't try to, he looks majestic, she thinks almost dreamily, but stops as soon as she realizes she's staring and he's glaring.

Sympathetic stares bombard the pair from every direction, but their targets are split.

Some only see how the prom king is icy to the new queen, his manner utterly detached until it seemed he might as well be miles- galaxies away from Sakura Haruno. To many, she seems just polite- unlike some of the girls that gaze hungrily and lustily at the young man they had voted for.

However some know the story of the Uchiha family and, while they insist revenge is not the answer, cheer for his success in their most secret heart of heart.

But Sakura continues to smile that empty smile that she hopes- god, how much she hopes- no one else can see through.

Ino is sequestered somewhere, she notes, as she's finally lined up on the dance floor next to her escort. Probably in a dark corner with her boyfriend, that little dark, mean voice in her snorts, but she squishes the (possibly true) insight.

Finally the room is dismissed and Sakura darts for the bathroom, dodging all the well-wishers as she prays for solitude- away from all those false hopes.

In the bathroom, many candles are lit at even intervals. Red candles, black candles, blue candles, white- they are the simplest of decorations. Ivory soap-holders rest along side the sinks as the green wall glows by candlelight.

Carefully, she washes away the paths the tears had worn away in secret. Her makeup she leaves intact as much as possible, though.

Reapplying her lipstick carefully so that red lips burn through the darkness, Sakura turns away from the mirror and, like a shining wraith, leaves the restroom.

The coat check is her first stop- she's the first one, the only one to leave early.

Her coat tugged tight, she hurtles out of the banquet hall and down the front steps- a bright light on a dark, dark night.

It's a night for naked truths. The shining moon above shows it all.

She wishes for his heart, but she knows she'll never get it.

Everyone recognizes that his heart is like a marble seed- frozen in a phase where it should grow, yet it sits in an emotional winter storm.

So she hides away the moments of bittersweet happiness with him this night as she removes her stilettos and continues on her way, never looking back at a night that was supposed to be a delight.

Never looks back to a place where the truth still haunts in corners, but only for those willing to find them.

Never looks back in time to see a dark figure back away slowly from the uppermost window, sadness enveloping his eyes and a quiet, resigned, long-acceptance of his fate.

And so it was.

//finite\\

Notes: Okay, it's kinda stupid, but this was based on some rumors that I heard at my school about our prom king and queen. It was pretty depressing actually… But the other way around. Like, the guy was like Sakura and the girl was kind of like Sasuke, except she just didn't feel the same way as the guy, so yeah.

But yeah.

I know I should probably be working on suite, but... this idea hit me and I didn't want it to leave.

There is a pretty blue-purple-ish button that you just want to click. :) I know you do!

~pandastacia