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It was shocking how much it hurt that day. Those words she always dreaded hearing. So simple and yet so complex. Filled with emotions and words left unspoken yet implied.
“He didn’t make it.”
She had always prided herself in being strong, incredibly strong. So it was only natural that part of her always expected she would simply take death in her stride as she had before. But the day she found out, it shattered her. It felt like a nightmare from which she ached to wake from. Her whole body screamed out in agony, begging for reality to halt. Even just for a few minutes so that she could attempt to process the information as it reached her. But sadly, time doesn’t work like that. It stops for no one.
Not one sound slipped from between her lips. Not that day and not since. What was there to even say?
It had been over a month since she last heard from him. Their long-distance relationship was only made more complex by the plethora of jobs that had been assigned to Konoha Jonin over the past few months. All dangerous in a variety of different ways.
At the time, it hurt knowing their reunion would be delayed yet again due to work, but she understood. His dedication to his profession was one of his most attractive qualities. Though he did still have a tendency to revert back to being somewhat lazy when he clocked off.
But now, it was a figment of a life she once lived. A life with him. A life without him being the only path forward. This was life. This was the reality they both knew they were signing up for the instant they chose this path.
Her paled visage stares blankly at her reflection in the full-length mirror, rough fingertips brushing across her dark-clad thighs as she met her gaze. Eyes void of any and all emotion as she took in her appearance, just as she had been raised. Bottling up the pain, devastation and dreams left unfulfilled and locking them away. Her coping method of choice since god knows when. Perhaps the one somewhat useful thing she had taken from her abusive childhood, despite how unhealthy it undoubtedly was.
Today was his funeral. But after that what awaited her? A life without his smart-ass comments and the stench of nicotine that she hated oh so much? It was undoubtable. Lips quiver as she feels her knees grow weak, threatening to give way. What I wouldn’t give to argue with him about that dirty habit one last time, she notes to herself; taking a deep breath as she tried to calm the throb resonating from deep within her chest. An invisible injury. The worst kind. Heartache.
How was she supposed to say goodbye when their journey had barely begun? It had only been six months since he finally plucked up the courage to follow through on their date. There was undoubtable chemistry. She knew he felt it too, the way he kissed her on the dates that followed were proof of his enamoured state.
Yet not once did they openly state how they felt. The regret she felt would perhaps be the most excruciating element of her life thus far. All for what? Her pride? It was laughable in hindsight. What good is pride when the one you love is dead?
“He’s really gone,” she breathes out loud at last, lips pressing together tight as her legs buckle from beneath her. Stormy eyes dart down to the floor as weathered palms press down against the tiles, hot tears cascading endlessly down her smooth cheeks. “Who’s the cry baby now?” She half laughs, fingers slipping up to her cheeks, attempting to wipe away the endless stream to no avail.
Perhaps one day, we will meet again.