Pairing: Eventual NaruNeji, for now.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. There would be little of Sasuke in it if I did.

Summary: A late turn of events supposed to be for the better cost one particular person the entirety of his existence. Naruto is determined to altogether put an end to Neji's madness and those after him - if there are people after him. Eventual NaruNeji.

Notes: My first multi-chaptered fic in the Naruto-verse. The story will be extremely fragmented and freakishly surreal throughout, changes POVs at almost every chance. This will most probably have little regard to canon, but not completely. The summary sucks big time, so I'll try my best to clear it up, even if only a little...after a few more confusing chapters. xD But the summary does give a slight idea on what this will be about, no?

Italicized parts are flashbacks, except for the first, which acts as..an introduction of some sort.

The Monsters in Your Head

Chapter One – It's All Coming Back to Me Now

xxxx

( It was one of those hot afternoons, the kind where everyone promptly felt their brains fry and vaporize to the thick, smothering air; with the particles to be forever suspended there like some supersaturated solution, as Sakura had often said. Naruto never could fully grasp the meaning of such big (scientific) words, but right now, he thought he could understand what it felt like.

It wasn't just any one of those afternoons. It was, in his opinion and the soon-opinions of those who would later know what was to happen, the worst.

It was the worst afternoon, because there, suspended in the standstill of supersaturations and air too heavy to swallow, lay the particles of a broken soul.)

Naruto stopped. Sensing the chakra signatures of his squad members, he raised his left hand. Soon enough, four shinobi appeared behind him, arriving one after the other. He slowly stood up from his crouching position, placed his hands on his hip, and straightened out.

There was something amiss.

Naruto turned to look back at the stone faces of the Hokages and sighed, though it was barely audible behind the mask he was wearing. Something seemed… strange. It wasn't something he could point out as acutely as he could (and knowing him, that was a feat he would soon land, next to having a real and proper date with his Sakura-chan), but an ever-present feeling nagging him in the back of his mind told him things were not what they appear to be at the moment. It unsettled him quite a lot, to the point Naruto seriously contemplated staying at the village until his unease would be laid to rest.

"Captain, what's wrong?" One of his team mates asked. Naruto just sighed. 'A mission's a mission,' he thought. Naruto readjusted his fox mask, and once more, he straightened out.

"Nothing. Let's get moving." Naruto said. His members chorused a "Yes, sir!" and prepared for their departure once Naruto has given the signal.

Blue gaze restricted by slanting slits was directed at the Hokage monument – briefly – before redirected to his waiting squad. Naruto gave a small nod, muttered "Scatter," and within moments they were gone in a gust of wind and swirl of leaves.

They had a mission needed to be accomplished.

(But perhaps, maybe this time he really should have just listened to his instincts.)

Darkness.

There was nothing. No enclosures. No tangible objects beneath her searching fingertips. No warmth. Not a mere spark or flicker of what could pass as light. Nothing. So much so, that doubt had begun to form in her mind that there could not possibly be nothing in this nothingness, that this void was just an abstraction in the face of this greater dimension that seemed to thrive on the depths of a so-called oblivion. Even the words were lost to her. In this space, words were just concepts designed to try and describe it. They were, much like everything else – even the clearly unclear idea of it – nothing.

…Then she heard something.

It was fleeting, but vague, it was not. There was definitely a sound, the tiniest of them all, which broke through her encapsulation in the pitch-black interval surrounding her subconscious. But what was it? Desperately, she tried to chase its traces, but failed. She began to despair. She started crying, though she really couldn't tell, for she couldn't feel her tears, the moistness it brought to her cheeks, the sting it gave to her eyes. There was no blurring of vision, no hot pulsations, no breath coming short.

She, so to speak, began to cry metaphorically.

Too lost with dealing with the metaphysical, that little sound was almost lost to her forever if it not had been for her shinobi instincts, nonexistent though they may be in this place. There was it again, the same as before – just as silent, just as brief, but it was certainly there. And again. Another time. It came and went, on even intervals, which reassured her somehow and made her stand firm on a ground that was present only because it was also as incorporeal as everything else. But not that sound. It was, to her, the only thing that was real at the very least.

Real enough to be distinguished as the beating of wings.

The beating of wings… Of what? A bird, or some other? She listened carefully, more attentively for several minutes (supposing time was not on a standstill here), which confirmed her former guess. She calmed. There was not an exact reason why she did, but the steady rhythm simply had an effect on her. Perhaps it was in a philosophical sense; a sound seemingly so misplaced on a conjectural sphere of darkness and absence just deemed to her to break the concept of the metaphysical itself, or probably back it all up if it did not exist at all and was another lost notion brought about by this. Either way, she closed her eyes and listened, and listened well.

Yes, the sound of a bird beating its wings, indeed. It grew steadier and steadier with each passing second, until it was the only thing that mattered to her. It was the only thing that mattered. She concentrated. What happened next bothered her.

The sound seemed to be getting weaker. It was barely audible now, had it not been for the years of training. A whisper, a sheer echo of what it used to be; that could not be. She begun to fret, but it was no use. It truly was feebler, as if it's… As if it was dying. No. That's not… Her eyes shot open.

It proved to be her undoing.

All at once, thousands upon thousand of… Of things came rushing through her (as in literally THROUGH her), searing her body, her very soul in a sudden rush of blinding green light. Warped images of places, people, things, pixelated pictures of sceneries; amalgamations of pigments and tints, shades, shadows, hues; sensations all heavy and laden and just too damn much; thoughts; feelings; darkness and sunshine and light flooding from everywhere; screams and loud bangs and whimpers and lonely lamentations of ghouls from the very depths of this world; everything, simply everything lashed out at her, shredding her and flaying her alive; putting her back again and destroying her once more. As if it was the cycle suspended between life and death; that once experiences both life and death at the same time – whenever, wherever, however. (Something a shinobi knows instinctively at birth and the only true knowledge proved helpful they carry with them at all times.)

Then everything stopped. Just like that, everything stopped, as if it never even happened in the first place. And maybe it really did not. In this seemingly otherworldly place, would it even?

And so, she screamed.

"SAKURA!"

Haruno Sakura bolted upright from where she lay on her bed. Though her mind was still quite foggy from that entire dream, she forced herself to take a good look at her surroundings. Surfaces of furniture placed here and there reflected the moonlight streaming from her bedside window. Silhouettes of stacked books and scattered scrolls made up most of the tableau that was her room. Nothing had changed: not one furnishing secretly rearranged; tool mysteriously disappeared.

A dream. Everything was just that, a dream.

'A dream…' Sakura thought. She closed her eyes and sighed, running the back of her hand on sweaty forehead. She clasped her hands tightly and rested her head on it, a gesture that screamed shock and incredulity. A dream. Her mind turned the words over and over, examined it, poked and jabbed and prodded at it, tried to find fault with it, to disprove it, to abandon preconception and establish rationality regarding the events of late: it could not have been simply a dream. It was not. It was not a dream. It was not. She ground her jaws firmly. It was not… It. Was. NOT.

But it was. There was no rationality needed to confirm a blatant truth, except from a denying mind. Which was what she was exactly doing, she was denying it. She was denying it because of the experience – to undergo such mind-bending occurrence that twisted to great lengths the realm of realities she believed in, would she be damned if she chose consolation in refusing herself the truth?

Yes, Tsunade would say, in the same way the Godaime told her when she almost gave up the training to be a medical ninja. Reality is only a word whose meaning stretches or contracts to what length you want, her master then said.

Sakura took a deep breath and exhaled, shakily. 'It was all a…- '

"SAKURA!"

The pink-haired jerked. So that one was not part of the dream… Still, who in Hokages' names would visit at this god forsaken time? One glance at the wall clock and she cursed under her breath. Who the hell would be up and about at 3 o'clock in the morning waking sleeping people up? Where had common sense went?

As if to remind her, the person began to pound furiously at her door, making Sakura curse once more. She threw the covers aside and began to wobble her way toward her now thoroughly abused door. She would raise hell to the person who probably knew about her legendary temper yet still dared to cross her, see if she wouldn't.

"WHAT? What the hell do you wa—!" Sakura slammed her door open and was about to connect a whack or two when panicked aquamarine eyes suddenly filled her vision. It was…

"I-Ino?" Ino was standing in front of her, eyes wide, hair in disarray, her breaths coming out short and sharp. Her clothes were also dirtied a little, probably on her way to Sakura's place. She was a complete mess, a far cry from the usual prim, proud Ino.

Of course, at that time, Sakura knew nothing of what had happened while she was trapped in the gaping abyss that was her (nightmare) dream; but when circumstances would later develop to their utmost despairing state, the memory of this Ino would often haunt her, and would give birth to the wishful thinking that perhaps Sakura should not have opened that door after all – the one of warped realities not her own, but merged with hers anyway.

Collecting herself, Sakura studied this shadow of Ino who had just appeared at her doorstep. Hurrying couldn't have done that to her; no, something else was definitely up. 'Besides, she's clearly distressed about something,' emerald orbs narrowed, 'but about what?'

"Ino? What's wrong? What happened?" Sakura tried to usher the blonde in, but Ino just pushed Sakura's hand away. She took a moment to steady herself, and without warning, grabbed the pink-haired by the wrist. Sakura visibly jumped, apparently still in shock from the dream.

"Just… Just come… Come with me…!" The blonde said. Dazedly, Sakura followed, not knowing any better.

"Just where are you taking me, Ino-pig? And what happened?" Sakura reverted to insults, hoping the blond would rise to the bait. There was a response, but it had not been what Sakura was expecting, and sadly still, not what she had been wanting.

There was no need, no way to describe it. The look Ino gave her after a moment's hesitation was enough to send chills down Sakura's spine.

It shook her.

(Darkness. There was nothing…

Nothing.)

"It was inevitable."

"…Yes, it was."

Silence ensued. It went on, and no one had the strength to break it, in the notion that it may be the best thing to do: just let it be. Let the stillness blanket them in its indifference.

He risked a glance, and though he already knew what he would see, the feelings stirred within him by that sight was always a new one; time after time after time. There would be no sleep for him now, for them – all of them, because everyone would be involved – not tomorrow, not for the next days, the next weeks… He sighed. No, no one would let this be. Not now.

"I… I can't let this be."

'See?'

He looked at her once more, that feeling creeping into him again, but never the same as before.

"No… None of us can."

He gasped for breath but held ground, and tried to land a blow while I was still a good two feet away from him, which I nimbly dodged. The string of curses following my escape was what elicited "the trademark smirk" more than my evasion of his attack, narrow as it had been.

The smirk was quickly replaced by a scowl when two of his clones grabbed me on the back, one of them grasping my hands and effectively restricting my use of them.

It was his turn to smirk. "Looks like I win." I glared some more. When it dawned unto me that I had (truly, I could not believe it) lost, I let myself a faint smile. The clones adapted that cute-but-insolent grin he had perfected over the years, then vanished with their usual 'poof!' sound.

"I win, I win! That means your treat!"

The smile merely widened. "…Yeah, I guess so."

He rejoiced a few more, only stopping when I threatened the existence of his prize. He practically skipped ahead of me when suddenly he stopped.

"What?"

He became serious now. "Do you remember that thing I asked a couple of days ago?" Instinctively, I felt my body tense.

"…Yes. What of it?"

He stared at me with those intense blue eyes, their colour only deepening with passing time. We stood there holding that little staring competition for moments. The sun had long set; darkness soon began to creep toward the sky.

"It looks good on you."

There had simply been no time for me to be shocked, because he grinned foxily before continuing his skip down Ichiraku.

"Ino, I need you to tell me what's wrong."

Sakura kept her gaze stern as she and Ino made their way through the empty, moonlit streets of Konoha. It had been fifteen minutes since they left Sakura's apartment, without a word still from the blonde. Sakura had waited, and waited patiently until it seemed to her patience was most certainly not a virtue now and would not get her the answers she needed. Ino, though, remained silent.

This upset Sakura more than the rude disturbance of her sleep (although it was originally not Ino's fault). She gave up, then soon realized her question had already been answered after all.

The streets they were now travelling on were awfully familiar. Too familiar.

Sakura swallowed a lump past her throat. "Ino… Tell me it's not… It can't be…" Twin aquamarines cast a remorseful expression at her.

"I'm sorry, Sakura–"

There was no room for disbelief, Sakura knew by now. She turned her attention to the path ahead, her face expressionless.

"It's too late for that, because we all knew.. that it was only a matter of time."

Uhm, so, any reviews..?