Third Time's the Charm

WARNING! Fanfiction! I repeat: FANFICTION!

Author's Note: You may be wondering, 'Why post this on a blog when you've obviously got Fanfiction.net?', right? Well, my answer is simple: I have no idea. I just wanted to fill up my blog with unrealistic crap and make it sound a tad more dramatic. This fic, by far, is one of my faves. Not too rough, but not mushy either. One-sided SasuSaku.... sort of.

PS: If you've checked out my video (post: SasuSaku- What I've Done), then this would explain a lot. Sakura's POV. I'll do Sasuke's later on. A good idea would be to read while listening to the soundtrack!

Category: Naruto (Anime/Manga).

Genre: Romance.

Pairing: Sakura and Sasuke (somewhat onesided).

Third Time’s the Charm



Rain was pouring down upon the streets of Konoha, Village of the Hidden Leaf. The sun, that usually shone brightly in the cloudless blue sky, was now no where to be seen – probably hidden amongst the thick, grey, thunderclouds; filtered of any light that would usually shine downwards. Where most people – ninja and civillian alike – took this bad weather as an indication to scurry along indoors, one angry, pink haired kunoichi stood alone outside; drenched to the bone in rain-water; face set and determined as she crashed her numb fists into the thick, sturdy bark of a great oak-tree.

The first time I confessed my love to him... he brushed me aside... called me... “annoying”.

The young kunoichi’s nose scrunched up prettily as she felt some wood dig into her reddened flesh. Rain and tears blurred her vision of the destructed oak; her petal pink hair, usually neatly framing her fair, delicate face, now jutted out in odd angles and stuck to her flushed cheeks in a distracting manner. This, and the fact that she was shivering with cold, did not bother her as she continued to crash her knuckles into the distressed tree with brutal force.

I was hurt at first; after all, who wouldn’t be hurt when the love of your life turns you away like some speck of dust on the grime-coated floor? To be pushed aside, pathetically, unworthy of the affection that you strived and thirsted for – it would be enough to drive anyone to the point of insanity...

Slam!

Small fists, usually tidily folded behind the small of her back, were now slamming deeper and deeper into the tree trunk. A crack was all she received upon her first few punches, blisters, so many, red and fierce, took no mercy to the weeping, fuming young woman.

...It was strange though; how I presisted through those days. I had gone through so many emotional break-downs... and yet... was willing to take one more every single time.

Slam!

The wood of the bark cracked again, and this time, with it, so did her knuckles. The woman cursed, seeing as how she had drawn red liquid with that previous throw. It stung badly, and for a second there, she had almost considered giving up... and yet...

Slam!

I always considered myself a proud kunoichi. Strong, if you must. I was one of the top students back then. Excellent in grades and perfect when it came to handling chakra-infused attacks. Yet, still, after a while I realized... if I was such a proud ninja... why was I always drifting behind? Watching, never moving. Cheering, never fighting. Analyzing, never doing. It was then that I came to a conclusion that I was, it seemed, weak.

Slam!

Tears. They stung more that the splinters, or the cuts, or the blisters ever would. And why? Why would the salty taste and the blurry-vision always induce this sort of weakness upon her? She had wept hundreds of times… for him especially, it seems... shouldn’t she be used to it by now?

Slam!

Shouldn’t the tears, now, after years of drawing them forth, and feeling them stream down her warm, flushed cheeks, give her a sense of familiarity? She should be unnafected by now...

Slam!

...right?

Slam!

I had worked harder, if not by a little bit, when I had come to such a conclusion. I was still behind, of course... but some progress was made, and with that, I was happy. Not proud any longer, no. I didn’t deserve to be proud. What with my fellow teamates, one of which I loved so deeply, were both strong and far ahead of me; all I could do was... walk along with them. Try to keep up.

Slam!

High up above, from atop the little kunoichi, and protected from behind a layer of glass, the eyes of a much older woman – warm with appraise, yet fierce with power and wisdom – watched as the young woman she deemed apprentice continued her pointless onslaught against the innocent tree. The older woman’s (Tsunade, it seems, is her name) lips were parted with a sigh, yet she made no move to cease her apprentice’s hard determination.

Slam!

The second time I confessed my love to him seemed like years later, though perhaps, it was only a few months. I had cried back then, too. I had cried and screamed, pleading like the prideless fool I was. I had even gone to the point of offering all I had. I tried all that I could, knowing, for a fact, that I had nothing precious to offer him.

Slam!

I remember his eyes. So hard with the thought of revenge. I had thrown myself to him, enveloping his broad, stiff shoulders with my own weak arms, wishing with what little might I had, that I could take all his anger away.

Slam!

That was the second time.

Slam!

I muse now... three months since his leave... how would the third time be?

Slam!

Would I be stronger then? Would he turn me away like he did both times before? Would he accept me?

Slam!

All I know is... for him, I’m willing to give a million and more third chances.

Slam!

The final blow was the strongest, and during that moment of set priorities, the tree had broken down all together, falling apart like mere twigs from the great oak it used to be, and scattering around the no longer crying girl like petals worthy of her name...

Sakura.

After all... third time’s the charm, right?