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viii.

Sakura stands in the front row at Hinata and Kiba’s funeral.

They are buried like heroes. They have died on a mission in the country of Fire, fighting for their own village and home. Burned to death, even ANBU’s special squad hasn’t been able to find a fraction of their bodies left.

The ceremony is nothing to talk about. The weather’s submitted to the village’s wishes and the clouds hang low and heavy on the sky, draping their arms to comfort the mourners. The last leafs of the trees fly among the black-clothed young assassins, whispering their goodbyes and disappearing to give way to the winter.

The Hokage says a few words about honor, friendship, trust and love (none of which Sakura really pays attention to) and with a hand on her eyes, she makes her own sorrow wane into her title and goes to give the relatives a brief, formal I’m sorry.

In this grey morning, when the clouds hang low and the wind is humid, Sakura’s eyes feel strangely dry as she strokes Ino’s golden hair, feeling that it is the sunlight under those stones Hinata’s and Kiba’s bodies should be buried underneath.

end