Hello everyone, this is Nychta, back with a severely depressing (to me, at least) story. Yes, it is itanaru, but if you want something different . . . take my poll. I have so many Ideas, and most of them are written down somewhere, but I need the motivation to type them up.
Btw, happy belated birthday twinny from outer space (aka AkumaNoDanna) and happy extremely early/REALLY late birthday to ravensbleeding (who is utterly AWESOME!) and to quartzapple (who is a freakin' updating GOD! ALL HAIL THE CRYSTALLINE FRUIT!) .
Anyways.
Warnings; first ff, ooc-ness. My Naruto is NOT a happy go lucky idiot. And Itachi will not be killing everything in sight, which technically makes him ooc. Mentions of self harm/attempted suicide. Later on (in like, 2 chapters, maybe less) there will be sex. Guy on guy sex. There probably won't be mentions of rape, though if people want me to add that in . . . REVIEW!
Disclaimer; do you see Naruto swapping attitudes with sasEMO? Do you see Deidara and Sasori smooching in public? Do you see Itachi being alive? No? Well, then, I guess it's pretty safe to day I don't own Naruto. And I'm really not all that upset about it.
Naruto's song; behind blue eyes-limp bizkit
Itachi's song; valentine's day-linkin park
Naruto sat on the edge of his small mattress, eyes filled with tears that would not overflow. He was better than that. Crying was for weaklings, and Naruto was a lot of things, but not weak, never weak. He pressed a hand to his chest, felling the thump of his heart, so vital, so alive, like he would never be.
The tears burned like a brand, but nothing could send them trailing down his cheek. His heart beat faster, and his hand pressed deeper into his chest, nails leaving marks behind on his flawless skin.
(Lies)
It was all lies, always lies.
(I love you.)
(I hate you.)
(I understand you.)
Because no one would ever understand him. Kyuubi no kitsune, a demon. That was all that he had been, and it was all that he would ever be. He closed his eyes and lights played in the back of his eyelids, shapes forming and morphing into unrecognisable patterns. His heart beat, but Naruto was never sure if he was really alive.
(You were never alive)
The only time that Naruto was ever alive was when the pain came. He was alive when the lies were exposed, alive when a sharp blade ran through his skin, alive when facing the edge of death.
He would paint a smile on his face, say that he was happy
(Alive)
but he never was. Blood, pain, tears. Alone, but not alone enough. His demons and ghosts stayed with him, night and day.
(Monster, Monster, Monster, DEMON)
He could never be consumed by the pain, no matter how he tried, no matter how he sought out the lies, no matter how many times he ran that sharp blade over his skin, no matter how many times he stood in front of the Kyuubi, and begged him to end it all.
(No one will miss you)
The roof was leaking.
Plip.
Warm raindrops, falling onto the worn and broken floorboards.
The wind howled outside, lashing leaves against his already broken and boarded up window. The rain poured down in buckets.
The roof was leaking.
That was why moisture left its faded tracks down Naruto's cheeks.
(Weak, Weak, Weak)
His heart beat.
The tears burned the back of his eyes.
(MONSTER!)
Life. . .alive. . .he would never live, not with the guilt of the lives he had taken, before he had even been born.
The blond broke.
Stormy blue eyes opened wide, and the roof was leaking again.
The tracks of countless years of pain trailed down his face. Countless years of beatings and withheld cries. Countless years of having no name to cry out when he needed someone the most.
His nails dug deeper into his skin, nearly drawing blood. His head ached, and the whispers of his past came back to haunt him.
(Blood. Pain. Lies.)
Life was less than a twisted fairytale. Life wasn't happy, and, at least for Naruto, probably never would be.
-All alone, by myself. No one to love.-
(No one would love you anyway.)
(Demon)
Maybe another demon would love him, but . . . that was too much to hope for. The other demons hated him as much as the people
-angels. . . they are angels-
did.
He got up, not knowing where he was going, but knowing that he couldn't stay there, in that time ridden room.
As he left, the door swung shut behind his back, covered, for once, free of the cheerful orange that he wore to convince people that he was fine.
Instead, he was wrapped in black.
Itachi stood at the trunk of a tree, leaning against its soaring majesty, his eyes closed.
The wind howled, but he ignored it.
The rain poured down on his black locks, soaking them through and through, but he ignored it.
The clash of thunder turned his head up, and he opened his eyes.
A flash of bright light
(aniki . . . look what I can do!)
and then all was dark again.
(learn to hate me, otouto)
His eyes dimmed, memories crowding his head with perfect clarity.
(I am disappointed, Itachi. You could do better.)
(aniki!)
(kill them all.)
-Not Sasuke . . . Please, not my otouto.-
(kill them ALL)
(join us)
(learn to hate me)
-End it all, otouto. I am tired of this game. . .-
He was tired, oh so tired.
He had no one. No one to talk to, no one to listen to, no one laugh with, no one to cry with.
No one to LOVE.
There was not a single person that would cry when he died. All the people that he loved were too fragile to come into this world of his, filled with blood, pain and death.
-otouto, learn to hate me. . . learn to become strong-
Somewhere along the line, his reason for living had dulled. The path that he had been taking had forked one too many times, and now he was just sitting at the crossroads, not knowing which way to go.
Life wasn't fulfilling anymore. He was never alive.
He had never been alive.
It had all been fake.
(Disappointed)
(Itachi)
(Aniki)
(Uchiha-sama)
(Akatsuki trash)
Had anyone ever seen him for who he truly was? He didn't even know himself.
(confusion)
(aniki. . . ANIKI! WHY?)
They haunted him. Memories of a past that he had never lived.
Who was he?
-Uchiha Itachi-
Really?
-I don't know anymore-
No, he had never known.
Who was Uchiha Itachi really?
A man that had given up everything for his village? A man that had given up everything for his brother? A monster, a killing machine that had never known true emotion?
His onyx eyes closed again, his face tilted up to the rain, falling down his almost feminine countenance. It was cold.
A shiver wracked his body, and his eyes opened, bright red.
Thunder clashed.
Rain fell.
Lightning lit up the sky.
Footsteps.
"Who are you?"
". . . I don't know."
The blond with his lost blue eyes came to lean against the great tree as well.
"I'm a monster."
"So am I."
After that, neither of them talked, both content
(Content?)
to look up into the stormy sky and be enfolded in their painful memories. No words were exchanged, and when the suns' rays started to light up the sky with a bloody light, barely visible through the thick rain, they just stood there, underneath the old, undoubtedly wise tree.
That was their first fateful meeting.
But not their last.
Never their last.
Cavemen developed flames, computer geniuses developed reviews . . . how evolved are you?
Review? Please?