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ryuu-to-sobakasu-hime · 3 years

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Ryuu to Sobakasu no Hime (Belle) Novel | English Translation | Chapter 3

**This is a machine translation. I put it together by extracting text page-by-page from a .pdf version of the Japanese novel, and running it through Google translate. I have only minorly edited some of the more confusing lines to make it more read-able. It is still a very rough translation, but it’s good enough to understand what’s going on. If there is anyone out there who wants to properly translate the novel, I am more than happy to edit it, if you’ll contact me.**

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Chapter 3: Memory

"Mother."

"What is it, Suzu?"

When I called, my mother turned around and replied.

Eleven years ago. The house was still new. There was no garage yet, and potted flowers were lined up all over the garden. "Do not cut my hair."

I told her that and ran down the slope in front of my house. Mom walked down the stairs opposite her, resting her hand on her waist and waiting. I ran away in the opposite direction, bouncing, saying that I would never let my hair be cut. But I was taken back without a hitch. She was seated on a bench in the garden and dressed in a haircut cape. “I’m going to make you look cute, Suzu.” After cutting my hair, I don't like the tingling of my hair. She shook her legs and sharpened her lips. But when she held the scissors without hesitation, she cut my hair all at once. "Because you’re going to be an elementary school student," I hope the hair on both sides doesn't stick to my shoulders. The bangs were far above the eyebrows. Even when I went to school, my neck was tingling for a while.

I played a lot with my mother. I took a sumo wrestling on the lawn of the riverbed in the evening. I pushed her by force and my mother rolled on the grass. I won, I laughed happily. Mother also laughed. I asked why? Won’t she cry if she loses? Mom shook her head. “I'm glad that the weak Suzu has become stronger.” Dad was laughing while lying on the grass. My mother often made salted seared meat. She lightly sprinkles salt and roasts the bonito stabbed on a gold skewer from her lenticel over an open flame on the stove. I was staring from the top of the chair. Since the fat drips, the microwave oven will not get dirty if you bake it while sucking it with cooking paper. When it gets burnt, dip it in ice water to cool it, and then drain it. It was a style. So as a kid, I had a hard time holding a thick piece of salted meat with chopsticks, and I had a hard time putting it in my mouth. Mom was waiting for dad's return, holding a mug and watching my struggle.

My dad was a salaryman at that time, and he wore a tie and went out to the city every day. Perhaps because of that, we had some money in our house in the old days. Mother bought a state-of-the-art smartphone at the time. I decided to try out the performance of the on-board camera, and on dad's lap, I pointed my smartphone at my mom. I asked dad to help put mom in the frame and pressed the shutter. She is dressed in white.

The smiling mother, she was beautiful. The photo of her was printed on paper and is still at the house. I was a cheerful child running around, unlike now. I definitely liked playing outside rather than inside the house. If there were trees, I climbed, if there were leaves, I tore them, and if there were insects, I chased them. But it didn't burn in the sun. I must have been such a constitution. Instead, my face is freckled.

I was often injured. My knee was also full of scratches. In the woods, on the riverbed, on the slope in front of my house, I often stumbled and fell. My mother ran up in a hurry and she hugged me tightly, crying in pain. Mysteriously, it hurts somewhere. That's when I was happy. I don't know how many times I fell because I ran around vigorously and wanted mother to hug me. Every time mother rushed in as if it was a big deal for her daughter and worried. Every day was like summer vacation. I clung to mother doing the laundry and cleaning and played. After lunch, she opened the tatami mat, laid a summer futon on the tatami mats, and we took a nap together. The smoke of the mosquito coil was rising slowly. When I woke up, most of the time, I couldn't see my mother sleeping next to me, and she was busy doing housework. In retrospect, she never been told me that she is busy. She was always with me when I asked for it. Since my house was in the mountains, I rarely went out to eat somewhere, and instead my mother cooked any kind of food. One day she saw it in a picture book, and she said she wanted to eat yakitori. She had never eaten it before. My mother made yakitori by sticking chicken on skewers one by one. For the first time in my life, I saw yakitori with the naked eye. I didn't know how to eat it, so I couldn't do well by chewing the meat and removing it from the skewers. Dad and mom were staring at me. Never missing what her daughter experiences for the first time in her life. The place where we, who live in the mountains, go out to play is not an amusement park or a shopping mall, but a campsite further in the mountains from our house.

On a sunny summer day, my mom and I wore a wide-brimmed hat and crossed the subsidence bridge. Dad was carrying a lot of camping equipment. The water crystal pool in the depths of the Yasui Valley was a breathtaking blue color even for us living in the area. The water is so transparent that you can clearly see your shadow on the bottom of the river. I feel a little scared as if I were floating in the air. My mother was an advanced swimmer. She boasted that her mother, who was once a local kid, swam like a kappa every day in the summer. She knew all about the fun of the river. At the same time, she never let her swim in dangerous places on dangerous days. Mom wraps around me, floating. She dived into the water to show her off her skills. Still picked up by her, I became anxious and called out. “Mom, don't go.” But mom, she swam in the blue water, as if she couldn't hear me.

One evening, I was playing with my mother's smartphone and saw a strange app. I put it on. When you launch the app, you'll see white and black horizontal stripes lined up. I pointed to what this was and asked my dad who was next to me. Dad looked it and twisted his neck, calling mother, who was preparing dinner. After dinner, mother's hand fixed the smartphone I was holding vertically. I laid it down and found it to be a piano keyboard. As prompted, I pressed one of the keys. There was a "do" sound. I looked at my mother's face. My mother also saw my face, saying that she had come out. It's mom’s music production app. Only then did I look around my mother's room and notice. Old records, cassette tapes, and CDs are lined up on the shelves to the end. And if you set them on a record player or cassette deck and pass them through an amplifier, music will be played from the left and right speakers. The collection was a brilliant one that accurately captured the main points of the history of classical, jazz and rock. I didn’t know at the time, the value and meaning of such a lineup being packed in a room at the end of the world.

In that room, I pressed the keys of the app one after another and recorded. When played, each sound sounds in the order in which they are arranged. Even if you enter an insane scale, it will play back in a lawful manner. I was so happy that I bounced on my chair. My mother was laughing too. Warm incandescent light was illuminating us. After that, I was crazy about this app. I had my mother lend me a smartphone and I was playing around with it day, night and morning. The operation was intuitive and easy to use. There were words that I couldn’t read because it wasn’t a children's app. And there were many functions I didn't understand. But I was absorbed in that kind of thing. I was completely absorbed in the exciting new experience of writing songs. I composed a number of songs and previewed them in front of my mother. The mother who finished listening gave me advice in short words each time. If you do xxx, it will be better, or the trick is to do xxx. She sometimes took out some of the records in the collection and listened to them for reference. My mother is neither a musician nor a composer.

I think each piece of advice is accurate even if I look back on it now. Over and over again, she listened to my melody, and she said she noticed something, and she sang herself to make sure it was. When I asked, she said it wasn't bad. She said she was smirking at me as she said. I put the sound in a place that I wouldn't normally put it. I'm sure this song was a failure, and all the work I've done so far will be ruined. But as it gradually takes shape, it seems strangely cohesive, she said. I felt as happy as I wanted to. I'm sure it's my parents' favor, but even if my mother added, I was happy. For me, I'm not making it with the intention of letting someone else listen to it. It would have been nice if only my mother could listen to it. My mother sings along with the song I typed in. Take the tempo with her right hand and sing gently. The voice of mother, who was also a member of the chorus made by her friends, echoed and was transparent.

She listened to my weird songs many times. I was happy and sang along with it. Anyway, it’s a song that is as nice as my mother.

I couldn't. Happy memories of me and mother suddenly end here. And that August has come. After this, all I have is a painful, painful memory. The voice of a little girl crying and crying echoed in the riverbank. A girl was left alone on a sandbar. Is she 4 or 5 years old? She looked smaller than I was. It was so sunny just a while ago, but I noticed it wasn't a blue sky, and it was covered with overcast clouds. The beautiful and calm river was cloudy, flooded, driftwood-filled, and surprisingly fast. I can imagine that it is raining heavily upstream. Before this happened, there were people happily making noise on the opposite bank when the flow was still transparent. They are now staring at the girl on this shore. She wore colorful outdoor clothing that made it easy to see that she probably came from the city, not a local. The girls' clothes were also bright colors that I had never seen. Why did people from the city overlook the girls' flashy colored clothes? Why did she forget her existence and she came back to this shore? What to do with friends, their families, and those who enjoyed fishing and canoeing on the riverbanks.

It seemed that she couldn't do anything, and she had no choice but to stand and look like a stick. It's no wonder you're standing. The violent flow of the river separated the girl from the people. Everyone realized that it couldn't be helped. One of the adults was talking to someone on his cell phone. However, everyone can see that where the girl is, is gradually narrowing. Everyone is aware that it is very unlikely that the rescue team will arrive in time. Therefore, I have no choice but to stand up without being able to do anything. Is it just listening to the girl's crying as it is? At that time, someone picked up the red life jacket beside the canoe.

I went forward while staring at the girl. She was a mother. Mommy, and I hurriedly clung to the hem of her mother's clothes. She realized that what her mother was trying to do was too dangerous. She wouldn't have been anxious. She screamed and pulled hard, trying not to let her go. Mom crouched down and squeezed my hand, and she told me something. At that time I can't remember what mother said. Maybe I was screaming and not ready to hear the words. Mom stood up to shake off my chasing and ran, locking the buckle on her life jacket. I fell down on a stone in the riverbank trying to chase her. Still, I got up and shouted at mother's back. Don't go. I think mom didn’t hear my words. While checking the girl's whereabouts, I went around the river, went into the water, and got in the stream to help. It started to rain.

How long has it passed since then? Suddenly the surroundings became noisy. The girl was rescued from the river. Adults are pulling the soaked and tired girl out of the river. I was staring at while getting wet in the rain. People running up. A mixture of joyful voices and crying voices. Are you okay? Open your eyes. I'm glad I was saved ... The girl was wearing the same red life jacket that her mother wore. At that moment, I understood at once what was happening. Mom isn’t here.

"Mother ..... Mother .....!"

I looked left and right, searching for her.

Not anywhere.

"Mother ...!"

In the distance, I heard an ambulance siren. The girl was wrapped in a blanket.

Carried by many adults, she leaves the riverbank. Everyone is crazy about it and realizes that my mom isn't there.

She isn't.

"Mom!" Only I raised my voice and kept calling. Many times. Many times. Many times. I don't remember much after that. When I heard that my mother was found all the way down the river, it seemed like a lie. It wasn't long before I realized that the mug that mother was using was missing. Dad put a picture of mother, which he took someday, in a picture frame and put it in a corner of the kitchen. He had to add flowers every day next to it. Neighbors bothered to talk to me every time I met them on the road, listened to me in a friendly way, and encouraged me with tears. Meanwhile, the Internet was flooded with anonymous posts about the accident.

"It's a suicide act to jump into a river flooded by rain"

"It seems that she was confident in swimming, but it's different from the pool."

《It is irresponsible for my child to help someone else's child and die》

《If there is an accident, playing in the river will be a nuisance and annoying》

《Because helping people is a good person, this is what happens》

The person who wrote it probably didn't know anything about the actual situation, and the day after he wrote it, he probably forgot what he wrote. However, the person who wrote it keeps sticking in my chest forever. Immediately after the accident, an acquaintance told me with resentment that it was terrible when I saw this. In front of these words, I was too young to understand all the meanings. However, as I grew up and became able to understand the meaning of the words accurately, I continued to suffer from the unconscious malice contained in them. Losing mother.

How should I pass on these writings as a bereaved family, even though I still can't accept them, as if the mother who helped me was all bad?

Aside from me, my mother just smiled in the picture frame in the kitchen. From that accident, I think something has changed decisively from what I used to be. One evening, in mother's room, where dust began to build up, I stood on her chair, hoping to return to her happy memories. And I sang the song I sang with mother. But when I started singing, I realized I couldn't sing at all. My voice became stuck in the back of my throat and couldn't get out of my mouth. I was confused. Something in my heart was suppressing me from singing. Why can't I sing? Tears came out.

Hey mom. Why can't I sing?

It was clear that the reason why singing was so fun and necessary was because my mother listened to it.

However, just because you can't sing... You don't have to worry about anything. Even if you can't sing, no one will blame you. Life just goes on. I went to a local junior high school. The jumper skirt uniform was stuffy. Many of the elementary school classmates went to the town as they went on to school, and there were not half of the students remaining in the local area, so even in junior high school, it became a compound class. Therefore, the chorus practice was accompanied by the vice-principal teacher, and it was decided to sing in all grades. There were three people in all grades. Because there were only three people, I quickly realized that I was just lip-synching without singing. I was asked why I didn't sing, but I didn't say anything. I thought they would get angry, but they didn't get angry. It means that only I can visit from the next practice.

I sat alone in a corner of the music class and watched everyone practice. I may have looked like a lethargic girl who was just silent. But inside that, there are things that can't be translated into words.

I think it was swirling. When I left school and returned home, I irresistibly entered mother's room in the twilight. The twilight light was shining through the window. Cardboard boxes containing tableware and seasonal home appliances that are no longer in use are piled up on the table. It was completely turned into a storeroom. It's been many years since then. It has passed. I listened to the large number of records there, one by one from the edge of the shelf. Days, days, days. By listening earnestly, I managed to calm my rough feelings. But one day, there was a moment when I thought I couldn't bear it anymore. Upon returning, I entered my mother's room, sat down in front of the keyboard, quickly opened the report sheet, and began to write fiercely with a pen to spit out the incomprehensible feelings in my chest. I was almost suffocating if I didn't spit it out. I turned over the paper and continued to write forever. -Why did mother leave me in the river? Why did she choose to help the child who she didn't even know her name rather than live with me? Why am I alone? Why, why, why – I added paper, supplemented with post-it notes, and wrote long, long lyrics. The scale that springs up is notated long and long. Those that were neither were spit out as pictures. It was a swirl of many kinds. It was like a whirlpool floating on the surface, like a black hole that swallowed everything, and like a hole in the top of my head. The floor of the room was filled with pieces of paper with a mixture of lyrics, pictures and sheet music. But suddenly..... I returned to myself and stopped writing. Right now, I've noticed the worthlessness, meaninglessness, ugliness, and helplessness of the words, pictures, and scales I wrote.

What are you doing? I broke the paper. Everything I've written so far.

I threw it in the trash can without hesitation. The bundle of paper looked like a vomit that I had just spit out. Then I became a high school student.

I finally found myself worthless. The uniform tie was stuffy. I crossed the subsidence bridge while looking down and went to school. I took an exam and passed the exam at a junior and senior high school in the center of the city, and transferred from high school. There, I met my childhood friend Shinobu-kun again.

"Shizu.."

"Shinobu-kun ..."

Now that I was in high school, Shinobu-kun looked tall and shining, all different. On the other hand, I didn't seem to have grown at all since then, and I was irresistibly embarrassed and couldn't even talk. What have I been doing so far? I started a new life going to the city from the mountains, but I couldn't get into studying. Even though I had a hard time taking the exam, I just looked out the window during class. Knowing that this shouldn't be the case. Club activities didn't go anywhere. There were very few such students. On the way home, you can see the students devoting themselves to club activities. The track and field club is jumping the training hurdle in a line in the courtyard. The volleyball club is running on the ground. A percussionist in the brass band with a metronome in his ear is striking a stick in the hallway. The Naginata club sits upright in the martial arts hall with a good posture, and thank you for your cooperation, saying before the practice. The first-year students of the baseball club, who have not yet been numbered, stand side by side and watch as if they are digging into the practice of their seniors. I didn't belong anywhere, so I left school quickly. It was already winter. There is a river called Kagami River that flows from east to west in the center of the city. Since the flow is often gentle, the TV tower and buildings on the opposite bank are reflected like a mirror. When I returned to the station through the road beside it, the girls of the light music club carrying the "Chahahaha" musical instrument case overtook me with a light step while laughing. A cute cat-shaped stuffed animal attached to the school bag is shaking. Attached to my school bag was a cheesy plastic plate of "Gutto Koremaru". "Gutto Koremaru" is an egg-shaped character who can poke his hand against the wall and endure the pain. I have a crack in my head, probably because I endured it too much. Of course, it's not cute.

In a dark and narrow corridor.

I resisted, "I can't do it! Hey!", But I was pulled into the room, saying "OK." The soundproof door slammed behind me. Shinboku "Ah!" There was a flashy room in a karaoke box, and the pink and purple lights were spinning mysteriously. It smells of incense. Only for girls in the class.

I heard that it was a social gathering, but when I saw the frenzy of the girls standing on the sofa and shaking their heads, I thought that I could not get into this tension very much.

"Peggie Sue is cute"

"This is the one that is popular in" U ", isn't it?" On the monitor screen on the wall, the popular Az of "U", Peggy Sue, was seen singing in a black rubber dress. Purple lipstick that shakes silver hair. An eccentric beauty with red eyes. Peggy Sue? "U"? Az? Is it popular? I don't know anything. It's like an event in a different world from me. Then, Hitomi suddenly offered a microphone, "Yes." Sing, and so on. "Huh?" Puzzled. Neither the coat nor the muffler is taken off. But "yes" the microphone was pointed again. Why for a child like me who is at the end of a class?

"Sing together?"

"Hey, sing."

The shadows of the girls press the microphones. What do you mean?

"Are you not going to sing alone?"

"Isn't it a lie that you can't sing?"

I see, so it’s this situation.

Dozens of microphones are forced against my face one after another. "Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu"

"Sing"

"Hey, sing?"

"Sing"

Those voices sound like a threat.

"You're telling me to sing."

"Sing!"

Ahh!

Immediately, the microphone popped off and fell to the floor.

The girls dancing on the sofa suddenly saw me. It's calming down as if I was taken aback.

"What happened? Suzu-chan"

The mic and the shadows of the girls disappeared like a phantom.

"No, nothing. I'm sorry. Hey ..."

Without saying anything, I pushed the door of the karaoke box open by force and went out like crawling. Someone might have heard and told everyone that I couldn't sing.

When I got off the bus, powder snow was flying. I almost slipped down the slope from the bus stop. Even in Kochi, it usually snows in the mountains, aside from the city. When I crossed the subsidence bridge, I heard a crackling sound of thin ice. The surface of the concrete bridge is frozen.

Cold. It's not dexterous enough to get used to everyone, and it's not divisible. On the other hand, I’m not strong enough to be alone, not prepared, and have no idea.

I don't do anything selfish. Rumors that you can't sing, that's a lie. I'm just not confident in myself for a while. I want to get along with everyone. Really. I know. Of course I know. So "Ah ... Ah ..."

In the middle of the bridge, I impulsively exhaled my voice.

"Ah ... ah ... ah ah"

As I breathed in, cold air sank into my throat. Still, I sang towards the river. "Ah..”

Did I sing? It didn't match a song. It's just a growl. The bag slipped off my shoulder. Will you forgive me if I sing? Can I get along with everyone if I sing? It doesn't help to sing alone in such a place. It's like a scream of a dead end before being crushed. Still, I sang that song with my mother with a squeezed voice. I was happy back then. It's different now. Powder snow was swirling in the flow of the river. Suddenly, in front of me it became pitch black. Nausea swelled from the back of my stomach, and I held my mouth with both hands.

"Uuuuu!"

I crouched on my knees. However, I couldn't stand the momentum of the backflowing gastric juice. I pushed my body forward and vomited towards the clear stream under the bridge. The vomit that was about to kneel and vomit fell to the surface of the water, creating a number of ripples. I spit out everything in my stomach and fell on the bridge. My hair is messed up and my mouth is smeared with gastric juice and smells. It's already spicy. I want to get rid of everything. Shivering and crying as if groaning. Drops of tears ooze on my cold cheeks and tingle. I wish I were gone.

I could hear the slight sound of powder snow folding and piled up right next to me. A notification came to the smartphone that slipped off my bag. It was a message from Hiro-chan.

<< Look at this, Suzu. It’s so amazing that I’m seriously laughing. >>

There is a link to somewhere.

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https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Dcx2NedPVBEdbfQaU-WC0pJMRmn20ASn7HSC0KY9R7E/edit?usp=sharing ~ Google Doc of the English-translated novel.

ryuutosobakasuhime.wordpress.com ~ English fan-site for Ryuu to Sobakasu no Hime where translations, scans, and other content is posted.

#belle #belle movie #ryuu to sobakasu no hime #ryu to sobakasu no hime #ryu #ryuu #studio chizu #mamoru hosoda #竜とそばかすの姫 #belle 2021 #hime

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jjongasarus · 6 years

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embers

yellow embers rode upon smoke clouds drifting to the stars, each burning flicker fizzling out before it could pass the canopy of trees lazily cloaking their destination. the smoke, however, filtered through the maze of dewy leaves and chipped bark until the moonlight greeted its sparse body. neither the embers nor the smoke could ever make it to the distant stars, and yet with every crackle of wood the failed journey of their predecessors were forgotten and new embers would ride the smoke to their inevitable demise.

her knees were pulled tightly to her chest, feet angling inwards and toes curling as the heat from the fire warmed them. the forest during this time of night was deathly quiet; only the snapping wood of their fire dared to penetrate the thick silence. even the crickets were unusually quiet, which would normally raise red flags but her body was too exhausted to stay vigilant. her loyalty was like a curse; she’d walked miles through the downpour of a summer storm, the humidity paling in comparison to the force of the rain, though both equally managing to leave her sticky and uncomfortable. though he kept walking, and so did she. under the ruthless blaze of the summer sun she flew through the forest, branches vibrating and leaves swaying in wake of her movement, and under the cool evening moon she’d skinned fish and through the misplaced strands of pink hair, watched for the movement of her enemies. he didn’t complain, so neither did she. the duration of their travels constantly tested her endurance, but her loyalty was like a curse, and wherever he went, she followed. that is what brought her here, exhaustedly watching the helpless plight of fire embers.

she wondered if she was similar. the physical proximity of her star wasn’t as distant, but its light was worlds away. if she was a fire ember, and he was her star, she’d fade into the nighttime breeze that caressed the tree leaves before she’d ever be able to embrace his light. the thought made her knees press a little tighter to her chest, her head bury a little deeper into her knees, and her eyes shift focus from the flames licking the night to the man sitting nearby; one leg extended outwards, the other elevated so his elbow could rest on his knee. his eyes were closed but he wasn’t sleeping, sleep never came to him so early in the night. if there wasn’t a fire, he might even blend in with the darkness of their surroundings, so easily fading from her sight, camouflaging into a background that even the moonlight couldn’t fully illuminate.

she knew that if she was a fire ember, he’d be her star. but she didn’t know what his star was, or if he even had one. if he was a fire ember, perhaps his dim light would separate from the rest, float out of the body of the smoke, and burn a path of its own, a path where the end wasn’t marked by the discouraging distance of an unreachable light, but marked whenever the ember’s light ceased to exist. her smile was pressed against her right knee, blocked from sight. he’d never been one to stay on the path commonly traveled, it was idiotic of her to ever think otherwise. despite this, she still wondered that in the uncommon possibility that he did have a star, what would it be.

“sasuke?” sakura’s chin rose, the beginning of his name having been muffled by her knees. she saw one of his eyes open and look in her direction. he had a habit of keeping his eye that posessed the rinnegan closed, so often times she’d only catch the gaze of one eye. if she caught the gaze of both, she knew something was amiss.

“what is it?” his voice suggested that he was on gaurd. perhaps he thought that she was calling to him because she sensed an enemy. his fingers twitched slightly, the line of his shoulders straightened, his lips tensed into a firm line, and the eyebrow that wasn’t shrouded by a blanket of thick hair grew taut with caution.

sakura shook her head first, the edges of her hair brushing by the soft angles of her jawline. “it’s not an enemy or anything. it’s just a silly question..” her words trailed off as her eyes did the same, returning to capture the motion of the ascending embers. his observant eye followed the direction of her dreamy gaze and settled on the same sight, little yellow sparks dancing through the fog of smoke until both disappeared in the thicket of leaves above them.

“what’s the question?” his form relaxed in the slightest of ways, his mouth resumed its usual subtle frown, its corners always dipping downwards ever so carefully, and his shoulders eased up a bit, but their line was still broad and ready at a moment’s notice.

sakura had often admired his readiness; during the old days when her hair could tickle her elbows and she wandered within the shadows of her teammates, sasuke’s preparedness to battle at any given second was one of his most handsome characteristics. these days, however, she found it more unsettling the way he wasn’t able to relax. she wanted to be a source of comfort to him, the warm body he could lean against after a strenuous day of labor, a safe space he could retreat to when the sun was too hot or the moon was too cold or even if everything in the world was just how it ought to be, but he still wanted to be within the presence of her scent. in short, she wanted to be his star.

“well..” she began, musing over how to articulate her question without sounding too odd. she pursed her lips slightly, her legs stretching out in-front of her so the soles of her feet could fully embrace the warm of the fire, her hands pressing palm-down on the ground while her head leaned back so she could peer at the stars through the gaps in the trees. “if you had something you wanted to reach, what would it be?”

“something i want to reach?” he reiterated. he was puzzled by the question, and once again his perceptive eye followed her line of sight up through the twists and turns of branches and leaves until he focused on the sprinkles of stars printed across the evening sky.

“mhm. kind of like, a desire. something you want to keep pushing towards even if you know that you might not make it.” sakura wanted to know what it was that could illuminate his darkest of nights, what could shine so bright that he’d fly to it even if his flame would fade in the process.

a few moments passed between them where nothing was said, only the crackling of fire broke the silence that had settled. “i don’t know. i thought it would be atoning for the sins i’ve committed during the war, but even then..”

sakura had been watching him since he began speaking. her eyelids lowered sympathetically, her expression softened tenderly as her head leaned a little to the right, and her heart ached with the desire to give him the world. a hue of orange reflected in the green of her eyes as she shifted closer to the fire, closer to him. the shadows of the twisting flames created patterns against her skin as she crawled on her hands and knees for a few paces until she was at arm’s length from him. she sat leaning on her hip, one hand on the ground balancing her, the other resting on her thigh so her fingers could play with the hem of her shorts as she thought.

“you still haven’t found it, right?” she looked him in the eye, an action that would normally have her heart in her throat and mind in the clouds. but in this moment, the both of them so far secluded from the world that even the crickets couldn’t find them, where their secret conversations could only be carried by a faint breeze, where both their forms were so gloriously decorated by the warmth of the fire before them, and the scattered dots of moonlight above them, where her green could pour into his sea of darkness, she wanted to remain frozen.

“no, not yet.” he sighed, his eye closing for less than a second but within those precious frames of time, he seemed vulnerable, and sakura wanted to dive right in, wanted to peel open his scars and understand his pain. but instead, she continued to watch him from a closeness that still seemed so far away. when his eye opened again he prompted her, “and you?”

“i want to reach you, sasuke.”

the flames had simmered down by now, in need of some stoking to keep them alive. the once passionate glow was now an insecure flicker that could only manage to brighten the space between their bodies. the embers were few and far between, but the ones that did manage to slip through the pieces of burnt wood were brighter than before and drifted upwards with the help of minimal smoke, carrying more than just a glance-worth of light, but light that may be able to actually navigate the maze of trees above.

“you don’t need to. i shouldn’t be a concern of yours.” he closed his eye but his brow furrowed as if he was concerned over his choice of words. his fingers curled into his palm, before tightening enough for the veins around his knuckles to raise against the skin. she could see the tension in his jaw as her eyes traveled along the sharp path of his jawline, and just as her gaze was traveling along the band of his thick eyelashes she looked away. his expression had told her enough, it always had, that she was foolish to ever think that she could be his light.

she wanted to apologize and return to her old spot several feet away from him. she wanted to end their conversation so that they could both get some rest and prepare for whatever lie ahead of them the next day, she didn’t want to deal with rejection. for years she’d chased after him, and for years he’d made her bleed from a wound that never seemed to heal properly. but her loyalty was like a curse, and she couldn’t turn away.

“you’re right…you shouldn’t be, and it’s foolish of me to think any differently.” her eyes lowered and stared at the stitch pattern on her shorts as his eye opened and fixed itself upon her. “but, i won’t let you go until you find it.”

she stood up from the ground then and walked the few paces to where she sat before before lowering herself back down to the ground. she dusted her hands off before stretching her arms up above her head, stretching her sore muscles. she wouldn’t let sasuke’s light fade no matter how far he strayed, even if his star wasn’t her, even if his star was lightyears away, she’d burn with a light so bright that it would keep him going. the fire now was barely burning above the charred wood and the embers had all been trapped between the pile of smoking wood. she laid herself down on the dirt, using her traveling pack to cushion her head.

it didn’t take her very long to drift off into sleep, she had been worn out from their travels that day. her eyes were closed and the strands of hair that had fallen onto her face floated with every breath she took, fluttering back down to her skin when her breathing softened. sasuke’s eye had watched the gradual digression of the fire, and through his periphery, watched her fall asleep.

“sakura..” he murmured despite her not being able to hear, “thank you.”

and as the fire receded into nothingness and their forms blended seamlessly into the background of the cool summer evening, the ember, burning a determined red, wove its way through the thicket of branches, gliding past the edges of the leaves, and emerged from the top of the canopy into the vast new world of the unfiltered sky.

and then, moments too soon, it vanished.

#sasusaku #sasusaku fic #sasusaku fanfiction #ssfanfiction

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