Remembrance and a God-
They sit, side by side, arms touching, their legs dangling over the edge of the Hokage Monument. The sun, shining brightly is momentarily covered by a passing cloud. She watches as it drifts lazily to some unknown destination. Her gaze drifts to her companion.
Unruly blonde hair blows into his face. She brushes it away, bares his eyes to her view they are such a unique shade of blue. The only way she could think to describe them now, in their sadness, was of a murky sea; she couldn't help but feel that she was ten feet below the surface, upside down and struggling to breathe.
She removed her hand and sighed, his eyes once again hidden from her view. She glances up at a passing bird, then back at him, and speaks, "You fear that he watches?" Her voice is hesitant, low.
He lifts his eyes from the passing traffic in the village below. Turning, his azure orbs fall on her form; Pink hair blown by the wind, shadows emerald eyes. "He does not watch." His voice is dry from lack of use. He turns his face to the street.
She turns her face away from him. Quietly she murmurs, "I had thought that you imagined he might be." He is silent for so long that she almost give up on an answer, when he speaks.
"No." one word is all he graces her with. His eyes close, his mind churns. He wonders what to say next. "He believed in nothing. No God. Nothing beyond himself as he was. Nothing after death. No, he is dead then…"
She eye's him. "But you believe differently. In God. Do you believe in God, Naruto?"
Azure meets emerald. "Death is God. Life is man. The day we are born begins our love affair with Death- with God." He says softly.
She sits back and smiles, thinking of their dear friend Sasuke. These three knew together more happiness than most, more pain than many; granted that was not counting to their lives previous to knowing each other. They seldom spoke of death, for like the draining of the river, such things were the concern of God.
"Sasuke." He whispered, turning his back on the sky. Hesitantly, her own whisper of the taboo name follows after, stolen by the wind – taken far away to where another boy sits, onyx orbs closed, listening.