But It Wasn't An Illusion, a naruto fanfic

Title: But It Wasn't An Illusion

Disclaimers: Naruto and all of its characters and things belong to Masashi Kishimoto, not me. No copyright infringement is intended.

Rating: T, for violence and language

Time: Maybe a year or two past the manga's current war arc—Kurenai's child is still very young.

Summary: Illusions. Kurenai knows them better than anyone else. But now, she has no hope, and it's definitely real. Every life comes down to its final moment. Oneshot.

But It Wasn't An Illusion

You say you want to relax for once,

this constant thinking's got you tired.

You wish you could fly away somewhere,

some place you'd be admired.

But all of that, darling,

you should know it's all fine.

Because this world's just an illusion,

waiting for someone to see through it,

and watch as it fades

into duct tape and twine.

Clack.

The sound of sandals striking tree limbs never failed to grate on my nerves. It was even worse when I was alone and when they were my irritating sandals.

I'd been traveling for hours, and was still nowhere near my destination of Kusagakure, the Village Hidden in the Grass. Lady Tsunade had sent me on a solo reconnaissance mission, and even though she'd been concerned about sending only one kunoichi—she's always concerned about those kinds of things—I'd assured her that I'd be fine.

There'd been rumors going around about Kusa trying to build up enough forces to launch an attack on Konoha. I'd been sent to check it out. Apparently, my prowess in genjutsu would be helpful, but I couldn't see why. I guessed that it'd be good for hiding, but I figured that a Hyuuga or an Aburame could do the job better, especially if all they needed was information.

Then again, it wasn't really my place to go against the word of the Hokage. It never has been. And I suppose it never will be.

As I continued traveling through the trees, I took note of my surroundings: the lush green treetops, the underbrush hiding from the sun in the shadows of the branches, the clear, blue sky that almost seemed happy. It was beautiful.

But none of it seemed familiar. Which didn't make sense. Because I'd traveled through the woodlands dozens of times before.

It wasn't until a few moments later when I sensed a foreign chakra in my system that I realized why.

And I felt stupid. I hadn't been paying attention.

I should've recognized that sooner.

I quickly dispelled the simple genjutsu, and landed on the next branch.

Someone's found me, and they clearly don't want me here.

I remained on the branch, shifted my hands into the Ram seal, and tried to detect chakra. Sensing had never been my strong suit, but it required the precise chakra control that came with being a genjutsu-user.

My eyes widened in shock when I detected at least three shinobi, quickly approaching, all of them with decent-sized chakra pools.

Damn it. This isn't good.

And that was when I regretted having Tsunade send me alone.

I jumped to the ground, the dull crunching of leaves sending a chill up my spine. The trees blocked out most of the sunlight; it was pretty dark, considering it was probably midafternoon.

I masked my chakra, as my pursuers obviously knew I was in the vicinity by then. But I figured that if they couldn't find my exact location, I'd be able to pick them off, one by one. And if they stayed together, I'd be able to trap them all in the same genjutsu.

I felt the three chakra signatures approaching.

So they're coming at me together. Okay.

I stood my ground and turned my back in the their direction. I wanted them to think I didn't know they were coming. As they drew closer, I prepared my genjutsu, my back still turned toward them. They wouldn't be able to see my hand seals.

Dog.

Snake.

Monkey.

Ox.

I heard the three nin land, no more than a few meters behind me.

One of them, who I assumed was the leader, spoke up. "Hey, bitch," he sneered. "We're from Kusagakure, and we're going to kill you." He laughed. "Konoha doesn't stand a chance."

What an idiot.

I envisioned a large tree in my mind as I formed the last hand seal. I turned around and glared at him, noting the Kusa headband tied around his left arm, which confirmed his words. The rumors had probably been true. Why else would Kusa shinobi attack a lone Konoha kunoichi? The leader looked down at my hands and his eyes grew wide. All I could see in them was fear.

Tiger.

"What are you—" He was cut off as my genjutsu began to take effect. A massive tree grew around him and bound him to its trunk with its branches. Or, at least that's what he saw and felt. Because my genjutsu felt real. I had never liked to think of them as illusions, even though that's precisely what they were.

"What is this?" He shouted. His partners just stared ahead blankly, wide-eyed, as they struggled to break free of something that wasn't even there. They were seeing the same thing in their minds, too.

I wondered if any of them realized that it was just an illusion. Based on how stupidly they approached me without determining my skills first, they were pretty naïve, especially the leader. But that didn't matter.

I took a kunai out from my pouch, and quickly slit two of their throats. And I plunged the dagger as far into the leader's throat as I could. Blood frothed out from his mouth. In their minds, they'd seen me appear above them from the tree and stab them. By that time, they'd probably finally recognized that it was a genjutsu. But it was obviously too late.

The leader immediately dropped dead, blood still gushing from his neck and pooling around him on the ground. His partners fell around him, clutching their throats, gurgling as they screamed. Slowly, their shouts grew faint, until both had died, too.

I glared at the three lifeless bodies and shook my head. After attaching incendiaries to the corpses, I jumped back and detonated them—leaving their dead bodies in the open would do nothing but bring me trouble.

When there was nothing left of them but ashes, I formed the seals for a simple water jutsu to douse the remaining flames. A jet of water shot from my mouth. The clear liquid fell over the new charred spots of the forest floor like a blanket, and then sunk into the ground.

I shook my head and sighed.

Time to go.

Back in the trees, I continued my journey to Kusa. I had to be more careful now, knowing that they'd found me. And I had to be even more careful, knowing that Kusa was indeed rallying against Konoha. I could only hope that there weren't more of them waiting.

I tried to be as silent as I could, moving through the trees, but I could still hear the muffled noise of my sandals against the bark.

Clack.

For the second time, I'd wished that Tsunade had sent someone with me. Not only did I not want to face more enemies alone, I was lonely.

I guess I'd been lonely for a while. Ever since Asuma was killed, I've felt empty—incomplete. I know it sounds cheesy, but it's completely real, and you can't know what it's like unless you've felt it yourself.

Clack.

When I gave birth to Keiko, our daughter, the emptiness wasn't filled. It was just shoved aside. While Keiko made me happier than I could ever remember being, the gaping hole left by Asuma was still very much there.

Clack.

It's sort of crazy how much you can miss a person. You know it's bad when you start talking to their photos as if they were real, as if they could talk back to you.

Clack.

Clack.

SNAP.

The branch below me broke in two and splinters went flying into my skin.

Damn it.

I shifted more chakra to my feet and landed on the ground gracefully. Another crunch of leaves – but this time, I could've sworn it sounded grimmer.

That's what I get for not paying attention…again.

I looked up to the broken branch and noticed how precisely it had snapped. That wasn't natural. Someone had to have set a trap.

I moved my hands into the Ram seal again and tried to sense chakra. I felt a single signature, coming at me from behind, and quickly.

I began stringing together the seals for a genjutsu, but I wasn't quick enough.

As I felt the enemy draw near, I turned to face her. She was in the trees.

A Kunoichi. With an Iwa headband.

When she saw me, she put her hands together in a seal I didn't recognize, and in an instant she was only a meter away from me, on the ground.

She moved to me so quickly that I couldn't see her. I moved my arms into a defensive position, crossing over my chest, and braced myself.

But it was too late.

A chakra laced foot connected with my stomach and I was sent flying backwards, into—through—two trees.

I couldn't breathe.

No, my breath had just been knocked out of me.

But I couldn't believe I hadn't lost consciousness. I could barely move. All I could do was lay against the tree I'd crashed into.

Helpless.

The Iwa kunoichi approached me slowly, laughing. Her sandy blonde hair was tied back in a high ponytail. She wore a typical Iwa flak jacket, with a blue shirt underneath, matching her nearly cobalt eyes.

If I could've moved, I would've pummeled her. I would've dug my kunai into her throat, just as I'd done to the Kusa shinobi. I would have enjoyed watching her bleed, watching her suffer.

She seemed to feel my killing intent. But instead of grimacing or flinching, she just laughed again, still walking towards me.

"Ya know, Konoha bitch," she sneered. "You and your village really don't have a chance against the combined forces of Iwagakure and Kusagakure."

I glared at her.

So Iwa's allied with Kusa. This is bad.

The Iwa kunoichi continued. "I see that calculating look on your face. But it's too bad you'll never have a chance to report back to your village." She started laughing again, and she brought her hand in front her mouth, pretending to stifle her laughter in a way that made me want to kill her. Again.

"That kick was enhanced with a very direct kind of chakra, in case you couldn't tell. It's gone through your chakra pathway, and pretty much destroyed it. Ha!"

"Do you really think Iwa and Kusa will get away with this?" I asked angrily. "Do you honestly believe you can win?"

"Yes, I do. Because with you dead, there's no way that Konoha will ever figure out our plans. Too bad, isn't it?"

I wanted to do something. But I couldn't. Not anything reasonable, at least.

"Chakra is slowly leaking out of your system. You'll die within the next hour, if not sooner. Don't even try to use any jutsu. They won't work!" She reached into the pouch that was strapped to her leg and pulled out a single senbon needle.

She threw it at me, and it planted itself in the tree I was laying against, right above my head. But I didn't flinch. She seemed to pout at that.

"Have fun dying, honey," she said as she began walking away.

I didn't say anything.

Because she'd just broken one of the most important rules of shinobi: Never leave an enemy dying; always finish the job.

While I probably had enough chakra left for a couple of simple genjutsu's, I knew that I wouldn't be able to execute them. I was pretty sure my right leg was broken, along with most of my ribs, and the kick to my stomach had indeed left my chakra pathway mangled, so I could barely move, let alone be precise with my chakra.

And my mission was to retrieve information, not to get into unnecessary battles. So I did the only thing I could do.

After making sure that the Iwa kunoichi was gone and that I was alone, I took out a small scroll and a writing utensil from my tool pouch. The action should have been simple. But it sent pain shooting through my body like some sort of malicious lightning. I tried to hold back a pained whimper.

After I finally took out the objects I needed, I painstakingly scribbled out my message. My writing was barely legible, but I knew the Cryptanalysis Squad would be able to figure it out, if it honestly came down to it.

~Urgent message to Lady Hokage from Kurenai Yuhi~

Kusa constructing army. Formed alliance with Iwa. Give my goodbyes to the old Squad 8, and remind Shikamaru that Keiko is now in his care.

-Yuhi

My eyes lingered on the note for a while and I could've sworn they started to water. Maybe it was because I'd just written my death note—but no, that couldn't have been it. I was a kunoichi, after all. I'd been taught not to fear or resent death ever since my Academy days.

I sighed, trying to let out my feelings through my mouth. But it didn't work.

I rolled up the scroll and sealed it with a small amount of chakra. But in doing that, more chakra escaped my body, as if there were holes in my chakra pathway.

Probably because there were holes in my chakra pathway.

Just one justsu…

I knew the jutsu I was thinking of would be difficult, if not impossible to accomplish in my condition, but I shakily formed hand seals that I didn't think I'd ever use again. As I gathered chakra, much of it escaped through the newly formed rips and tears.

The only jutsu that I could've even managed to do was this one.

Summoning. I'd only ever used the Summoning Jutsu twice. The first was to find what my animal affinity was. The second was on a mission when I urgently needed to send something back to the village that couldn't be sent any other way.

And it was understandable that I'd almost never made use of my Summoning Contract. The creatures I'd signed with—the ones who I apparently held an affinity for—were remarkably ineffective. They were useless in combat, slow when it came to delivering messages, and only the larger varieties ever lived more than a few weeks. When I found out they were the only creatures I could effectively summon, I was disappointed. Not to mention, what does it mean when you have an affinity for such a weak creature? I'm certainly not as weak as…a butterfly.

I held no care for any of the butterfly summons, and I assume the feeling was mutual. If—when—I died, they wouldn't—won't—care.

But they were the only way of delivering the most important message I'd ever had to deliver.

Because I knew I had no chance of surviving.

I lifted my thumb to my mouth and dug one of my canines into it. It began bleeding.

I channeled nearly all of my remaining chakra to my hands and slapped them to the ground. In a puff of smoke, a scarlet butterfly appeared. It was about half as tall as me, with a wingspan I guessed to be around two meters.

"How may I be of service?" the butterfly spoke in a delicate, placid, and even tone.

I never knew they could talk. The one I'd summoned earlier never talked. Or maybe it just didn't want to talk. Hell, I didn't even know how this one was talking. I guess that's what I get for not taking the time to get to know them.

I was exhausted. But I found the strength to speak, somehow. "Yes. I need you to deliver a message to Konoha. And please—" I was interrupted by my own fit of coughing. Blood splashed onto the ground. "Please make sure my child is all right."

"I could bring out a medical nin for you, Ms. Yuhi," the butterfly suggested.

"No. It'd be pointless."

"Understood, Ms. Yuhi. As follows tradition, we will have one of our kind remain in the village of the summoner who has passed."

Hm. That's a strange tradition.

But I nodded my head like I knew about it. I could've said something witty about the "passed summoner" part like "I'm not dead yet!" But that wouldn't be worth it, because I'd probably be dead pretty soon, anyway.

So I held out my scroll and began searching my pouch for string. But before I could find any, the butterfly reached out with one of its apparently prehensile legs and took it from me.

I nodded my head again. "Watch out for Kusa and Iwa ninja. Try to remain hidden."

The butterfly tilted its almost-spherical head, and its large eyes seemed to glimmer. "Ms. Yuhi, you do know that the butterflies of Hana Forest are very capable in the field of genjutsu, and are especially good with sensing and masking chakra, correct?"

No. I didn't know that. It would've been nice if someone had told me.

"Why, of course," I lied. Then I started coughing again.

The butterfly looked at me for a moment longer and nodded, or at least I think that's what it was doing.

"If I come into contact with nin not from your village, I should be able to dispose of them."

"Thank you but—" More coughing. "Your main priority is to get this scroll to the village. Avoid combat, if at all possible." I coughed again, as blood covered my face and chest, and began to soak through my shirt.

"Very well. Farewell, Ms. Yuhi."

Holding onto the scroll, it began flapping its wings. The moving air felt good against my skin, until the butterfly was in the air, and it had begun flying away.

Farewell…

As I stayed lying against the tree, memories flooded my mind. There were things I hadn't thought of in years, and things that had only recently graced my consciousness.

I remembered when my mother told me I couldn't be a kunoichi. She said I would never be strong enough. But I didn't listen. I become a kunoichi, because the greatest thing you can ever do in life is follow you heart, and not give a crap about what everyone else tells you.

I remembered the time I first met Asuma. We were students at the Academy. He asked me if I wanted to play on the swings with him. I told him no, because "boys have cooties."

I remembered the time I was promoted to the rank of chunin. Asuma had been there to congratulate me after I won the final battle, even though I was still covered in my own blood.

I remembered the Nine Tails' attack on Konoha, and how my father wouldn't let me fight. He said it was for the sake of preserving the Will of Fire. I wondered what was so important about some stupid village myth. But now I know it's not a myth. It's one of the few things in this life that's completely real.

I remembered when I was promoted to jounin. I'd never even wanted the job. I thought it'd be too tedious. But when I left the Hokage's office, Asuma had been there to pat my back and say, "Took you long enough."

I remembered when Asuma, Kakashi, and I were assigned rookie genin squads. I didn't want them at first. I'd asked the Third to give them to someone else, like Anko. But then he told me that I'd be perfect for the job, and that I was crazy for even suggesting Anko to take my place.

I remembered my squad's first mission: capturing the cat that always seemed to find a way to escape. It'd been easy with Hinata's eyes, Kiba's nose, and Shino's bugs. That was when I'd realized how strong all three of them would become.

I remembered when all three members of my squad were promoted to chunin in the same year. I'd been so proud of them. I'd taken them to my favorite restaurant to celebrate. That probably wasn't my best idea, though, because Akamaru ended up knocking over a couple of tables in his excitement. We were kicked out.

I remembered when I found out I was pregnant with Keiko. I was excited, but scared at the same time. Asuma nearly passed out when I told him.

I remembered when Shikamaru told me the news of Asuma's death. I'd wanted him to be lying. But I knew he wasn't, so I fell to my knees and cried.

I remembered Asuma's funeral, how so many people had gathered. I'd waited until everyone had left to put my bouquet of flowers at his grave. I wanted to yell at him for leaving, but instead, I whispered, "Please wait for me."

And I wondered if he'd waited for me…if it's even possible to wait for someone in death. I don't know if I believe in an afterlife, but the thought of Asuma being there makes me want to.

I hoped that, if there was a heaven, that I could join Asuma. I hoped that my daughter would be safe, but I knew that she would, in the hands of someone like Shikamaru. I wished I could've said goodbye to Shino, Hinata, and Kiba in person, but I was sure my old squad would've appreciated a note from a butterfly, as opposed to nothing at all. I figured that, if there were an afterlife, I'd probably get to watch over them all.

Thoughts continued to race around in my head, and I felt a single tear slide down my cheek and mix with my blood, as the world around me began to grow dark. I could barely make out the scarlet butterfly floating away in the distance, and I could only hope that it would reach Konoha. All I could do was hope. All anyone can ever do is hope. Even as I lay dying, I could still hope.

And some parts of me wondered if that was because I was a kunoichi – because I was trained to accept death. Maybe that's why death didn't matter to me. Maybe that's why I was so calm…

Except I wasn't. I wasn't at all.

And death did matter me.

It…it doesn't matter that it's an inevitability. That doesn't mean you have be happy about it.

How could you not be scared of death? How?

You're gone. When you die, you're gone…

Asuma is gone.

I'll be gone.

I'm going.

Asuma is gone.

We'll be gone.

We're going.

Gone. Forever.

I was scared. I was scared as hell. I still wanted to be able to raise my child.

I wanted to.

I needed to.

I couldn't.

As my vision went completely dark, my ribcage felt empty. Hollow. My body and mind screamed at me to hold on to the sliver of life I had left. It begged for this whole thing to be an illusion—it begged for it to be fake. It begged for everything to be fake. And what if it was? What if life is just an illusion? What if nothing were real?

But I knew better than anyone what was an illusion and what wasn't.

So I did the only thing that I could do. I laid still. I let go.

I finally let go.

And I fell, and I fell, and I fell.

~END~

…

Well, that's it…

I hope you enjoyed it, but even if you didn't, thank you for reading. A review would be nice, but if you don't feel like leaving one, then don't.

When I first began writing, I thought I'd be done with this plot idea. But now that I'm done, I'm not sure if I am. While I'm not entirely sure yet, I'm thinking of making a continuation (either another oneshot, or, if I think I can pull it off, a multichapter story).

I'll be focusing on the planning and prewriting, and just figuring everything out.

I'd also like to thank user XxRazorGazexX for being such a great beta and helping me out with this story when I needed it. YOU'RE AWESOME. *tosses confetti*

Thanks again for reading.

-Cole