Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. (I'm getting really tired of typing this. Don't they get it by now? -sigh-)
AN: So, I squeezed another tiny ficlet out. Damned writers block. Anyway, all grammar mistakes are on purpose. Ko's POV.
Hopeless
By: Karasu Kyra
He died he died he died he died he died he died he died he died he died he died he died.
He died he died he died he died he died he died he died he died he died he died he died. Over and over and over, it replays in my head.
He stood there, only wanting to protect me and then, (and then!) he fought. He fought and he fought and he fought. Then, when he could stand no longer, he crawled to me. Or at least…
Oh, god.
He tried.
He tried getting to me.
But, he was losing so much blood, from so many places. Oh gods. Why? Why can I see that image of him, bloodstained, rain-wettened? It's all I can see, when I'm awake, when I close my eyes.
I-zu-mo.
Izumo.
Izumo Kamizuki.
My love, oh, why?
I never got that sentimental with you.
Never told you I loved you enough.
Never told you how much I appreciated you.
Never told you how much I wished I were more serious around you.
"Come back," I whisper.
"Come back," a little louder.
"Come back!"
"Come back!" I scream this and I don't think anyone cares enough to check in this old apartment we shared.
I'm sick to my stomach and I want to puke. I can't, though. I've been wondering if I can even breathe. Do human's need to breathe? Is it really essential? Or is it something that our mind tells our body we need but we don't? I used to wonder that. I mused on it with-
Oh, god.
No.
Not his broken, smiling face.
Oh, why?
Oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why oh why.
I scream, then.
I scream because I don't know what else to do.
I was never without him.
Never.
I'd known him literally since birth.
Oh fuck me.
Why oh why must he have died?
We were shinobi, yes, but that didn't mean he had to die!
I can't. I can't live without him.
I struggle to my feet and stumble into the kitchen. I pull out one of the knives in the drawer, then pause. No. I then stumble to our bedroom, to our bed where his blood-stained torn clothes are crumpled. Along with them, his kunai pouch. I pull one out. One of Izumo's kunai.
I drag them up my arm and across my throat.
Maybe, this way, I'll be with him.
I smile as my world goes black.
0o0o0o0
Black.
Black, it's all I can see.
Where am I?
I'm…
I tried…
Because…
He's dead.
Oh goddess!
Why!
No, no, no!
I want to die.
I want to be dead!
I bolt upright to find Iruka Umino sitting beside me. He's looking at me with sad eyes and it looks like he's wearing some of Kakashi Hatake's clothes.
"Why," I ask looking at him. I can feel tears gathering in my eyes but I don't care. He's seen me cry before. "I don't want to live any longer."
"Kotetsu," Iruka says.
"He's gone. He's dead. I'm dying inside! Can't you people see that!? I wish to be dead!"
I wish to be dead, I wish to be dead, I wish to be dead, I wish to be dead, I wish to be dead, I wish to be dead.
Kill me, kill me, kill me, kill me, kill me.
I hadn't realized I was whispering it aloud.
Iruka slapped me and looked at me with the coldest expression to grace any man's face.
"Is this what Izumo would have wanted you to be like? If anything, live the life that was taken from him! Can you do that much for him?"
"I don't know," I whisper.
"I can try, I guess."
And yet, I know I can't be the man I was. Not when half of me was killed.
But, I can try.
With no hope, I can try.