Things We Do For Love

CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR

Y/N's P.O.V

People from all classes surrounded the wide lane. Lanterns glowed in the dimly lit corners of the streets. Colorful silks and cottons danced in the air; mouthwatering scents wafted in between companies while occasional laughter interrupted the cacophony of musical instruments playing in the background. Amongst their smiling frames, I walked aimlessly wearing a bright yellow yukata. My decorated hair seemed to be for nothing as there was no one walking next to me. Unfortunately, and to my utter humiliation, Takeshi-san never showed up. I had been waiting near the market entrance, flower in my hand and a wide smile but as seconds became minutes and then an hour passed, I realized that I had been stood up. Some of the stall owners looked at me with pity, a few offered free food but I kindly refused. Bruised pride and broken heart pushed me to move forward, they didn't want me to waste my evening after such ordeal. The lump in my throat twisted, sending shivers of agony down my body. I pursed my lips to withhold any escaping whimpers but at the end, a few drops of tears shamelessly dripped down my cheeks. Not only had I watched Iruka accept Rika's proposal but now my tender soul had to deal with rejection. My cheeks turned crimson thinking how it was plausible for the silver-eyed witch to taunt me further, if she came to know what happened to my date. I felt my heart was about to burst out of my chest, unnerved and anxious to even enjoy the beautiful splendor surrounding me.

I had asked my friends to walk ahead of me while I prepared to be greeted by Takeshi-san. And now I walked pushing past cheerful crowds under the sodium-lights and lanterns. Banners were hoisted proudly, the Leaf's insignia woven into its material as it shimmered dimly against the illumination. There were couples everywhere and I hopelessly imagined someone's arm around my waist, pointing to gorgeous gowns and refined jewelries, whispering sweet nothings and empty promises. While I walked amongst couples, I received odd looks at times and a few even tutted seeing me without any purse either. In that exact moment, I wanted to disintegrate into a puddle. I had thought with Takeshi-san I wouldn't really need to bring in my own money but now I learned the lesson, albeit in a dishonoring manner. It should be noted that my eyes were shimmering just like the stars, sparkling with unshed tears every now and then as the constant reminder of being stood up and worthlessness possessed my brain. I couldn't wrap my mind around how wounded I felt, the idea that I had no appeal to even get a man to accompany me on such a nice festival. Even in the chilly evening, Konoha blew a gentle breeze, carrying with it the smell that secured its existence – wet grass, muddy shores and spices. I wanted to appreciate the glowing lanterns and candles against the blue visage above us. Its colors were marred across the canvas in a reckless manner; purple, orange and baby blues were aggressively trying to dominate each other with the occasional clouds hiding their war. The sun had already set but its faded frame still provided much needed intensity to display the last of the daybreak to us. While on the other side, stars began to tease us, blinking once and twice then hide behind the clouds shyly. It was the perfect clash – one side showing the vibrancy of colors whereas the other side showing its dark presence filled with twinkling orbs. Many people admired the beauty, me too; being left completely on my own, I scattered my consciousness to as many objects I could find. The less I thought of what happened, the easier my night would become.

The annual Winter Festival of the Leaf nestled many shinobis, foreigners and citizens amongst its vicinity. Shops were opened for the entire night, there were few people performing in the streets and exotic animals were on display for the rich to bid on and buy. There were exclusive selection of pure gold and only selected customers were allowed in. At one corner, I could see Genji-sama hackling for customers at his shop. The man had turned older, frail but still held a scrutinizing voice. As I passed him, he looked at me with piercing eyes and furrowed brows, as if he couldn't exactly point out who I was. I smiled timidly looking away; sure I could wave a simple 'hello' and ask him if he liked his eggs broken on his head or not and the man would recall the day my friends and I had egged him. Even after so many years, I still think we had done justice by humiliating that man.