—

"She must be as beautiful as the tree that blooms in Spring."

"She was."

It was painful to speak of her in past tense.

But discretely glancing at the woman on the other side of the fire, he thought:

She still is.

He was sure he was dying then. And he was more than certain that there was no escape this time. No more pink-haired medic unconditionally in love with him to heal him, to repair the broken ribs and tears on his muscles.

And it was his fault. Because he wasn't fast enough to block the attack aimed for her, not quick enough to prevent her from falling off the cliff, too weak, too helpless to do anything for her, when she gave him her all.

She held back nothing for him while he could do nothing for her.

All because he was not good enough.

It was no surprise really that he was where he was, pathetically sitting against a tree in the middle of a thick forest, lost in the middle of nowhere, bleeding, coughing out blood and choking with it.

He was more surprised it took this long for him to reach this point, that it took five years to arrive at death's door.

The last he remembered was the sight of looming trees over him.

When he opened his eyes again, he was met with the familiar image of the shadow of dancing flames reflected against a cave wall.

Am I dead...?

Is this... the afterlife?

A snap by the mouth of the cave caught his attention, and he struggled to turn his head toward it. He could see a silhouette... a woman's figure.

He could hear her soft footsteps approaching, getting louder in his ears. His eyes didn't leave the approaching figure until the woman stepped into the light.

After surviving the Great Shinobi war he had always known that ghosts of his past would come haunting him one day, but he didn't think it would while he was in his deathbed and as a ghost of his past teammate.

The teammate he had failed countless times and source of great regrets.

Sakura...

Seeing this woman clad in white haori and red hakama, with hip-long pink hair and green eyes, the very personification of his dead teammate, standing before him reminded him why he got to survive the war and live for five more years.

It seemed only befitting she'd be the one to fetch him from his deathbed and take him to afterlife.

Then she spoke.

"I'm glad you're awake now. You were very close to dying I feared you wouldn't make it."

Wait... he was still...?

"I'm..." it was uncomfortable to speak and his throat felt dry, "still alive?"

Sensing his discomfort she placed a cup of warm water next to his head before sitting next to him. She leaned toward him to help him up and support him to drink the water.

"Yes," she replied softly.

Onyx eyes didn't leave her face. If he wasn't dead, then this woman... wasn't Sakura. But... the resemblance was so striking she could've been Sakura's reflection on a mirror.

Her green eyes were very warm, devoid of weariness he had last seen on Sakura. And her hair was so long, the longest he had ever seen it, and she tied it with a white hair cord.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Hana. A priestess of the town," she replied as she checked his wounds.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him.

"Hn."

She sighed, closing her eye briefly.

"I apologise for the inconvenience. There is a strong prejudice against Shinobi in the town," she told him, "that's why I had to treat you here."

He didn't say anything but contented himself with observing the woman before him.

More than a week had passed and while his body was healing, it was slow and taking time. 'Hana' used herb to treat his wounds and could only visit him during the dead of the night, when it was least likely for anyone to notice her disappearances.

Tonight was one of those nights she had come to visit him but it was unlike any other as she engaged him to a conversation, something she rarely did with him.

"Who is she?"

"Who?"

"The woman whose name you were uttering in your sleep."

He didn't really have any response to that. He didn't even know he talked in his sleep.

When he didn't answer, she continued.

"Sakura, Sakura, Sakura," she murmured softly, "You keep calling her name as if in desperation. Who is she?"

He stiffened.

"She was my..." his what? Teammate? Friend? But in the end he said, "precious woman."

"...Oh."

Sasuke thought he imagined a hint of disappointment in that syllable.

"She is your lover then?"

His response was accompanied with a small bitter smile on his lips, and it was a sight that made her heart clench and ache for his.

"Once upon a time."

As he regained his strength and grew stronger, he tried to feel for her chakra. Just to confirm if—

Sasuke fixed his gaze on the fire, while 'Hana' rubbed ointment on the healing bruises on his back. It was easier to feel for her chakra when she was closest to him, to distinguish it.

His back stiffened and his eyes widened before they soften bitterly.

She's still alive but she doesn't remember her past. He was glad it was him who crossed paths with her. if it was Kakashi or Naruto, especially if it had been Naruto...

It was better this way.

Yesterday for her life—a convenient trade.

It took a month for his wounds to completely heal and for him to regain his strength. But even revitalised he still couldn't return to Konoha. To get to Konoha, he had no choice but to go through the village. But the prejudice against Shinobi was so strong there, 'Hana' had told him, it would be impossible to go through undetected.

Apparently the town was founded by war refugees who held a grudge against the Five Nations for the casualties and loss they suffered during the war.

One night, Sakura—no, Hana arrived with civilian clothing.

He won't think of her as Sakura, his old teammate. Because Sakura was dead, and Hana was a different person. Regardless of their same face, eyes, hair, even chakra signature. Doing so would only make leaving difficult. Sasuke didn't want to leave second time but she had another life now, another identity, a better life without the darkness and difficulties that came along as being a kunoichi.

"There will be a gathering in town next week," she informed him, "and you can pretend to be simple traveller through town then. It is the perfect opportunity."

A week passed and as Sasuke travelled through the town dressed as an innocent civilian, he learned what the gathering was about.

It was a celebration. A pre-wedding celebration of the town head's son and of the town priestess, Hana.

He didn't know how he felt about that.

.

.

.

For some reason, he felt like staying around. Not around the celebration for he was never interested in one but simply just because. Or maybe because it wouldn't feel right. It didn't feel right to leave without at least saying goodbye to the person who looked after him and nursed him back to health.

This time though, there were no chirping crickets, no full moon but a setting sun, no wooden benches to lay her unconscious body on, no tears, no quest for power and revenge, no love confessions yelled out of desperation, but a simple normal farewell between two people.

"Thank you..." the words felt familiar and sounded nostalgic but context was different this time, "for everything."

With his back facing her, he failed to see the widening of green eyes.

"You're welcome..."

Most importantly, he didn't see the tears that started to fall from her eyes.

Sasuke-kun

there's no The End like my usual one shots, which means i might (might) post a sequel.

prompt: SSM 2012: ghost—i know this is late but i wanted to write something for my *coughs* eighteenth birthday even though it is couple days late

notes: i've had this idea for nearly six months and i've got several drafts written for it but nothing just felt right. i typed this without wearing my corrective glasses or contact lenses so i apologise for mistakes.