An inexplicable grief that had appeared so suddenly that it seemed little more than a side effect of a drug consumed her heart from within. It was as if there was just a gaping black hole in her chest from which untold tears flowed. Tears that she could not explain with words and a feeling of emptiness that spread in her stomach and swallowed every feeling of happiness in her infinite depth. Once her red, glowing eyes were freed from the salty tears that left burning marks on her fiery red cheeks, the corners of her eyes filled with the unwanted liquid again after a few seconds.
With her knees drawn to her chin and her arms wrapped tightly around them, the pink-haired girl sat on her bed and stared motionless at the window, where the rain bounced off and ran down her cheeks as the tears rolled down. The soothing sound of the countless fingers of the rain, how they drummed on the cool glass and underlined their mood as background noise, drowned out even their sobs, which kept escaping from their throats. Images shot through her head. Images that she wanted to suppress and couldn't because they seemed to be rooted in her head.
The sight of her dead father dangling lifelessly from the ceiling, losing the rope around his neck and the color from his face, had burned into her brain. Her mother had been able to cope with his death even less than she had, throwing herself into the protective arms of the alcohol to which she now felt more attached than her own daughter. Since then, Sakura preferred to hide in her room, knowing full well that no one understood her - especially not her mother.
When the drizzle stopped too, Sakura got up and felt that her legs had lost all feeling when she went to the piano, which was dusty in the corner of her room. And although it was actually very old, the white keys were polished to a sparkling cleanliness and had a brilliant shine. Like a soulless body she wandered to the small, upholstered stool, which had not come into contact with her weight for a long time. Whenever she sat on top of it and listened to the intoxicating music that filled the otherwise empty room with a sad melody, these images came back.
As soon as she settled down and put her slender fingers on the white keys, memories sprouted in her that she constantly suppressed and only brought back to the surface in emergencies. Memories of better times, when even her mother hadn't quite forgotten how to laugh and had drowned with alcohol. Her fingers slid over the keys and the first notes filled the room and carried her worries with them for a moment. Everything seemed to be falling from her and her body seemed to be freed from a heavy burden that had wrapped itself around her like a wet fur coat.The last notes faded away, the rain started again abruptly and Sakura had just dropped onto her bed and pressed the pillow to her face as if she hoped to numb the pain in her, but it didn't help. Only breathing was more difficult, but the lump in her chest and the lump in her throat had already made breathing into an act of strength that she had to master every second. Sadly, she lifted the pillow from her and turned her gaze to the wall that separated her from her - most likely drunk - mother. Sakura saw the image emerge in her head: her mother was lying on the couch, a half-empty vodka bottle in her right hand, sound asleep while the television was rustling in the background. She found her mother like this almost every day when she came back from school, and each time she felt more painful when she noticed how much her mother had lost interest in life. Back when she'd had a best friend and boyfriend, she'd even tried to help her get them into therapy, but every word had ricocheted off the wall of pride and uncertainty - nothing had gotten through to her. At that time, however, she had friends who listened to her and tried to understand her and her problems, but now she was alone and that only because of a wrong decision, which she now counted as one of the stupidest of her life. Now she felt like she was in an infinitely large, dark room and the only light that surrounded her was the tiny candle she held in her hands, the flame of which reflected her tiny glimmer of hope for recovery.
Sakura became lazy, the rain calmed her troubled mind and slowly rocked her into sleep, which should remain dreamless and thus she was not driven out of her mind with further nightmares.

His gaze was on her face, which stared straight ahead and fixed the teacher with her jade green eyes to simulate concentration. It was obvious that her thoughts were elsewhere, because her hands were sliding restlessly over the table top, as if it was difficult for her to hold them to herself and not to stretch them forward to prevent someone invisible from walking.
Her pink hair fell over her right shoulder and formed a narrow curtain between him and her, but he could see her curved, pink lips, which were pressed together into a thin line to suppress a trembling tremor on her part. Her face was calm and distraught at the same time, and it struck his heart again that it had been she who had broken off their relationship, especially since she had been the only one who had ever managed to make him love. He was aware that he had never shown her and all the more the feelings of guilt gnawed at him and the longing for her indescribably beautiful smile that he had missed all the last time.And now he was with her former best friend to get her to talk to him so that he could finally make her realize that he needed her as much as she needed him. And she needed him, he knew that.
Suddenly - before he knew it - her gaze rested on his and for a split second a fine, barely noticeable smile stole onto her lips, but it disappeared so quickly that it didn't even reach her eyes. Her look suddenly turned sad when she realized how sad he was. She had never before noticed a movement in one face, which is why his sad expression threw her off track and to avoid the confusion, she fixed her gaze again on the teacher, who was trying to bring the class closer to the math to bring - in vain. Most found it more interesting to chat with their neighbor or to scribble something on their pad than to pay attention to their teacher. Sakura, however, longed for the end of the lesson, because she couldn't stand it any longer next to Sasuke, especially since she literally had Ino on her neck and felt her withering look on her back. She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to concentrate on what was important for the rest of the lesson - her problems and the solution she had to find.

Sakura shifted restlessly on the chair - the last hour had come.
She had chemistry, sat at the very front and the rows behind her went up to the back so that everyone could see what the teacher was mixing together. Today it had hissed, steamed and stunk for almost the entire hour, which is why every single one of them was consumed after the final gong and was more busy wrinkling their noses or talking than paying attention. It would have been wiser for Sakura to sit all the way back to avoid any hostile gaze from her former best friend and those who counted themselves among her followers. It had happened many times before that she would get balls of paper that had been thrown by them or by boys to show her that she was the natural target of their venom. Another paper plane soared through the air and landed right in her pink hair and instantly a low chuckle broke out and drove through the ranks. With two pointed fingers she plucked the plane out of her hair and eyed it suspiciously, turning it back and forth in front of her eyes when she read an "open please, Sakura-chan" and inevitably had to roll her eyes. That was clearly Naruto's writing, scratched on the folded paper and barely decipherable. I should have guessed it right away, because no one - really no one - could throw paper planes as well as he, which was simply because he a) had practice in it and b) it was his only occupation in class.Her fingers unfolded the plane and with great difficulty she deciphered the cryptic characters that he had put together into words that - in her eyes - hardly made any sense:

Hello Sakura-chan!, it was written in a very strange script,I have to tell you something very important and very private, so could you come to our favorite spot on the river today at 4:00 p.m.? - Naruto

Sakura's premonition, which she had crept in during the "Sakura-chan", was intensified by the rest of the `letter´, so that she could hardly hide her unrest, although her acting skills had become outstanding over the years of training. Surely he just wanted to seek her advice again, because his relationship with Hinata seemed to be overwhelming, which is why he needed advice, but he didn't trust Ino, as she was known for her spirited behavior and had a tendency to exaggerate. When she helped someone, she helped them, but at the same time - through her exaggerations - she got them back into trouble, which is why people generally avoided asking her for help. And although she had way too much on her own, she couldn't help but help him and of course she was perfectly aware that this was just a naive attempt to distract herself from the agony that befell her every day without her noticing it, until it became too much and everything broke out of her. To take precautionary measures, she tore the folded sheet of paper into tiny pieces and hid it in her pencil case so that no one would stupidly steal it from her and then puzzle it together to reveal a supposedly big 'scandal'. It wasn't like that had never happened before. There was a queasy feeling deep inside her, but she didn't feel it or had managed to suppress it so well that she really didn't notice it. It was clear that if she went to this meeting, she could only come home quickly to put down her book bag, because even if she rode her bike, it was quite a long