Chapter Text
Hinata’s wedding has been absolutely perfect.
Sakura’s not one to brag, but looking around everything—the venue, the décor, the flowers, the catering, she allows herself one tiny moment to gloat. Another wedding, another success story.
She watches fondly as the vows are exchanged and passes the ring to the bride. The newlyweds finally kiss and the hall erupts in applauds and whistles. It’s beautiful and heartwarming—and she was running late.
She slyly checks her wrist watch, the watch she had worn for this very purpose. She can still make it, if she leaves, well, right about now.
She offers the customary congratulations before sneakily making a beeline towards the exit. It’s easy to slip out, since everyone is busy swarming the happy couple, and hardly anyone pays her any attention.
All except one. Unknown to Sakura, a pair of dark eyes follow her departure with amused curiosity, the same pair of eyes that have been observing her since they caught her fidgeting up on the dais.
Sakura doesn’t know all that. Even if she did, she probably wouldn’t have cared anyway. Right now, all that matters to her is finding a cab. Oh and also the strap of her overstuffed tote bag not falling apart.
The heavens too, must have noticed her working so hard, for she manages to find a cab, on a Saturday evening no less.
She gives the driver the address. The car zooms through the rush hour Konoha traffic. Sakura opens her bag and takes out the kimono.
“Hey buddy.” She asks in what she hopes is a flirtatious voice. “I can make you a rich man.”
“Lady, whatever your scheme is, I ain’t falling for it.” The driver replies in a bored voice, not taking his eyes off the road.
“Ugh, no. Here, look.” Sakura pulls out the bundle of notes and waves it in his direction. That gets his attention.
“I’m going to have to make a few trips to and fro this evening, and I’d like to keep you on. As you can see, I’m going to tip very, very generously, but on one condition. Whatever happens back here.” Sakura waves her arms around the backseat. “You keep your eyes on the road.”
“Eyes on the road. Got it.” The driver nods solemnly.
“Fantastic.” Sakura pulls down the strap of her dress, holding the kimono over her head.
“Hey, what the—“ The man’s eyes bulge out in shock.
“Hey. Eyes on the road, remember?” Sakura reminds him sharply.
He gulps and reluctantly looks away. Sakura struggles with the intricate laces and zips of the dress, made more difficult in the moving vehicle. The kimono is another story, with the sashes and layers. The traffic grows worse. Damn it, why did Temari have to get married on the other side of town?
The cab finally arrives at the address. Sakura checks herself in the rearview mirror. She looks pretty decent for someone who got dressed inside a moving cab. She fixes a few loose strands of her hair and takes a deep breath.
Someday, when it’s finally my day, they’ll do the same for me.
“Wait here.” She instructs the driver before darting inside.
__
Temari had chosen a traditional Japanese wedding. The décor was tasteful and appropriate, Sakura notes with pride. Paper lanterns illuminate the lawn, giving it a soft, romantic glow. Nothing much to see really, just another perfectly planned wedding.
“There you are.” The bride stands with her hands on her hips, eyes wide with worry.
“Sorry, sorry.” Sakura pants. “Traffic was a bitch.” It wasn’t a lie.
Once again, the vows are exchanged, the bride and groom exchange the ceremonial sake and kiss (okay so it isn’t entirely traditional.)
And once again, Sakura has to go.
She doesn’t even care to be subtle, breaking into a run once she’s out in the lawn. Her cab’s all revved up to go. Mr. Driver doesn’t even bother to look this time as she starts stripping.
Throughout the rest of the evening, she takes several such journeys. As the evening progresses, the details get a bit blurry, and the two weddings start blending with each other. The fact that she’s drinking twice the amount of alcohol certainly doesn’t help. Was it Hinata’s father who shared that funny little childhood anecdote in his toast, or was it one of Temari’s brothers? Was it Temari’s new husband who slipped and almost fell face first into the cake, or was it Hinata’s? (The latter seemed more likely.)
“You need to slow down.” Ino, her best friend, plops down on the empty chair next to her. “God, they should be paying you.”
“I’m doing this because I care about both of them.” Sakura replies calmly, watching Hinata slow dance with her father.
“Yes and you’ve done enough. Now relax and look around. Pick who gets to rip off that dress. Look, since you’ve worked so hard tonight, I’ll let you call dibs.”
“You’re disgusting.” Sakura rolls her eyes.
“I’m normal.”Ino retorts. “Unlike you.”
Before Sakura could open her mouth to protest, Hinata climbs up on the dais.
“Today’s a very special day for me.” She shyly speaks into the mic. “Made even more special by a few people. Other than my family, there’s one person I must thank. The person who was with me for every step—every cake testing, every fitting, who has managed everything and given me this beautiful day—my friend, Sakura Haruno. I can never thank you enough.” She almost chokes on the last sentence. Everyone is looking at Sakura and applauding, she forces an awkward smile.
“Blah, blah.” Ino drawls. “Let’s each pick a guy and go home.”
Hinata carefully dabs at the corners of her eyes. “Ladies.” She grabs the microphone, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “It’s time for the bouquet.”
“Kill me.” Ino groans. “Kill me now.”
Sakura doesn’t pay her attention. It was the moment she looks forward to at every wedding. The bouquet will be hers. She squeezes through the throng, already jostling with the eager women. Hinata turns around and throws the bouquet. Sakura watches as it descends. So close, she almost has it. All she’ll have to do is extend her arm.
Her fingers graze the silky texture of the flowers, and then the world goes pitch black.