𝒈𝒍𝒖𝒆.

𝟘𝟘𝟞: 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕃𝕖𝕗𝕥 𝕌𝕟𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕕

He gingerly brushed dried leaves off the flat, rectangular stone, letting his fingers linger over the kanji that spelled out her name, a gesture that was shockingly intimate, especially given his… past.

He had never really been good with physical contact and expressions of affection (she'd pronounced him hopeless at it, even more so than the whole social interaction and feeling emotions thing-).

It was something she had promised him she would help him with, when she came back from her mission (but she didn't come back, at least, not in the way he'd expected - cold, lifeless- though it had been the first time in a long while that he had shed tears, so long that he had forgotten how it felt like-).

"It's been a while," He said aloud.

"I've missed you." And I still miss you, every single day. It seems empty without your presence; the air seems still without your laugh, the atmosphere seems dull without your smile-

"I just returned from a mission." Sasuke's coming along nicely, he's returned to Konoha to honour your memory, Naruto's finally starting to visit Ichiraku again, Kakashi's stopped training like crazy, he even cracked open Icha Icha the other day, Yamato's started using his 'scary face' again, I've started to name my paintings again-

"I have something for you," I can only do this, and hope that somewhere, somehow, you're watching over us, and this brings a smile to your face-

He gently unrolled a scroll, and pinned it against the tiny Sakura bonsai trees Yamato had grown around her grave. It was a portrait, a scene captured for eternity in ink, of six people: Naruto, Kakashi, Yamato, Sasuke and himself, surrounding her, all smiling and laughing happily together. A team, a family, with her in the centre, just as she was (had been, would always be) the centre of their world. He hated drawing people (except her, he had a whole wall papered with portraits of her- no matter how 'creepy' Naruto said that was-), and hated drawing fictional scenarios even more – true beauty lay in nature, in reality, in the easy smile she'd always sported – but she was special, had always been special, and he'd do a lot more than paint in a way he disliked for her.

"I hope you like it." I know you'd have liked it, because I made it for you, and I've carefully observed what makes your smile brighter, and I can just see it now, that smile you'd have given me, if, if…

"I've got to go; I haven't reported to Hokage-sama yet…" Tsunade is drowning her sorrow in sake, and Shizune doesn't have the heart to stop her, not when she's hurting just as much, the least we all do is try to keep her mind off it with work, with mission reports, with silly antics…

"Besides, it's Yamato's turn to talk to you, then we're meeting up at that restaurant you love, the one that sells sukiyaki, Naruto says it's for 'team bonding time'…" Because if it's one thing you've taught us better than Kakashi has, it's how much teamwork has to be valued.

Trailing his fingers along her tombstone one last time, wishing it wasn't so cold, so hard, a symbol of the harsh reality he's forced to face every single day for the rest of his life, he uttered,

"I'll come back tomorrow," And the day after that, and the day after that, forever…

"Goodbye." I love you.

He sets down a single red rose (ne, Yamato-taichou, would you grow some roses for me, preeeetty pleeeaaase?) on the stone marker, absently noting the new portrait Sai's left out for her.

He painstakingly grooms the bonsai trees he's planted for her (Eeeh, Sakura bonsai trees? That's impossible! Though that'd be pretty awesome, huh? Heh…), even as he begins to speak.

"Hey, Sakura-chan," How's heaven, this time of the year? Sorry we missed New Year's, we each tried to worm our way out of the mission, Naruto even threw the mother of all temper tantrums, but there's been an overload of missions lately, and we had to go. We'd even planned it out- we'd have a picnic, right here, and we'd have bought that dango from the next village that you love so much…

"Sunday is coming, so we'll all see you then, again," Because they usually had their private time with her, but Sundays were family days, so they gathered together to eat, right here in the graveyard, because they weren't complete without her.

"Naruto's thinking of bringing Ichiraku ramen this time," A year ago, we'd all complain, but as it is, we're just relieved he can eat ramen now without breaking down.

"The team is slowly coming together, though it's never going to be the same," But you sacrificed so much for this, so we're determined to make it work.

"A year has gone by so quickly, huh…" I can't believe I survived a year without you, it seems like just yesterday I saw you off on that mission, yet it also seems like that was a millennia ago.

"I wish time would pass slower," Because it's wearing away at my memories so quickly. I'm starting to forget your scent, I've forgotten the exact pitch your voice reaches when you become embarrassed, I'm starting to forget the way you glowed so beautifully under the light of the full moon…

"I hate it. Time, that is," I'm scared of it… I don't want to forget.

"But life goes on." But I know you wouldn't want me to wallow in self-pity and cling to your memory like this, so I'll continue living, for you. Because…

"I love you."

"Thanks for listening to me babble," Thank you for everything. For caring, for loving, for not treating me as a replacement (of the Shodai, of Kakashi-senpai…), but as my own person. Thank you for welcoming me into your heart so freely, thank you for showing me what true love is, thank you for these precious memories.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," And one day, I hope to hear your reply.

"Sleep well…"

Yamato pressed a kiss to his fingers, which he then brushed gently against the stone. With one last parting glance over his shoulder, he walked away, leaving behind an obviously well-kept and well-loved grave.

A breeze passed through the graveyard, rustling the grass and the bonsai trees, sending sakura petals scattering in the wind. It carried with it an echo of what could have been a fondly exasperated sigh, a laugh, a sob, or a mix of all three.

She was the glue that held them together. Unbroken, unafraid, she had freely given them her love, putting all her effort and time into repairing them, these men who looked so perfect on the outside, yet were so shattered, so scarred, so fragile inside.

Because they would always be Her Boys.

…Because she was the glue that held them together, and a bond like that could not be broken by anything, not even death.