Forward

Six months, fourteen days, and five hours marked the end of Sakura's life as she knew it, but it mattered not. Time no longer held any meaning for the devastated kunoichi.

What use was time to a dead woman?

Well, technically speaking she wasn't dead, but it sure as hell felt like it.

News of the Uchiha's demise had reached far and wide, the shockwave of power rippling across the lands as far as the eye could see. An entire clan wiped off the face of the earth, and yet no one seemed to care, outside of Team 7 that is.

Perhaps that was the most difficult of all. Life continued to move forward for everyone else, and yet for her it felt like the world had ended the day of his death.

His body had been recovered in Iwagakure, his eyes having been gouged out of his skull, a self inflicted wound if the report was to be believed. She didn't put it past him, the Uchiha's bloodline trait was formidable and if in the wrong hands would spell disaster for the entire shinobi world.

Regardless of the reason, when his body had been transferred back to Konoha, it had been left to her to perform the autopsy, determine that nothing essential had been left behind. She had been the one to clean his wounds, dress them accordingly and prepare his body for burial. They had felt it necessary to bury him alongside his fallen clansmen, another grave added to the Uchiha compound.

She had cried, sobbed over his lifeless form as she grieved for all the time lost, the devastation of her unrequited love, the loss of her teammate and friend. Hopes and dreams for his return had been cruelly dashed, opportunities lost forever. Guilt and regrets weighed heavily on her heart, her thoughts leading her down a spiralling path of self-hatred.

If only she had been stronger, she could have prevented his departure. Instead her vanity had cost her precious time, her beauty priority over her abilities and ultimately why he had overpowered her in the first place. Even then, she had been foolish and believed for years that he would return when he was ready, come to realize the life he could have if he would only come home.

Only his hatred for his brother fueled his desire for power, whatever the cost. Along the way, his soul had been corrupted, a heart so blackened that he felt the need to snuff out the lives of his former teammates and friends. Oh yes, she had loved him still, excused his behavior although it killed her to know he viewed her as nothing more than an obstacle in his endeavors to gain power.

They had wanted to believe that he would return, that the evil clouding his heart would dissipate with the power of their love.

It was only now that she realized how utterly ridiculous the notion was.

A part of her still loved the man, dead though he may be, and the idea that the rest of the world could move on without him tore at her soul. He was her longtime love, her friend, her comrade. They had fought, laughed, and endured so much together. Their bond had been strong after everything they had gone through.

After the fourth shinobi war, their team had reunited and over the last few years they had been inseparable, save for the odd missions and varying work schedules. They were hardly seen apart after his return since he was under mandatory probation for the first year, a jonin by his side at all times unless on the clan grounds.

She had taken to being his guard when not scheduled at the hospital, which was rare as many shinobi and even civilians had been injured in the battle, requiring extensive therapy and surgeries that required her expertise. Although work was tiresome, she never let it show, opting to be a pillar of strength in the village's time of need. There were many times she wanted to give up, to curl into herself and allow her mind to wallow in sorrow, but she refused to shut down when there was so much work that needed to be done.