You Belong to Me Chapter 1: I'm Still Here, a naruto fanfic

Notes: This is a yaoi fic, may I warn you first and foremost. There is still time to click that back button. But if you think you can handle this then proceed, just words of caution—READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! Please do review! It serves as encouragement for me to write more despite my hectic schedule! Please do review or else I'll strangle yah all to death! I'm not kidding! ",

I don't want to be beneath shame's cloak

I want to be saved from the norms of life

I want to believe I am not alone

I want to be seen, to be accepted

And you are the only one who did

You saved me, saw me, accepted me

Even loved me…

But it wasn't meant to be

We weren't meant to be

So you desired to run away from here

Yet your world can never be mine

You turned your back on me

To face a future

To sire a new hope

Without me.

But I have been unable to let you go.

Somehow.

You Belong To Me

(SasuNaru)

By feralmxstyque

Remember how we used to say

I'll be the one to run away

But I'm still here

-Vertical Horizon-

Chapter One: I'm Still Here

You missed.

The melody had long ceased playing but he couldn't tear off his eyes on the one playing the flute. He looked angelic, almost pure, with his midnight-colored hair, cold, dark eyes and enigmatic smile. The boy drew out a long breath and bowed, his soft, silky hair dancing with his every movements. And then his eyes rolled towards the audience and found, among them, a certain blond who had his eyes fixed upon the ethereal beauty upon him. The boy gave him an unmistakable frown, thinking he would never let himself lay a finger upon such lewdness, such drastic abomination God has ever had the chance created.

And from that moment on, the blond knew he could never have the chance to caress those porcelain flesh and kiss those wanting lips, because from that very moment on, fate had obliterated all the possibility that lies in almost all the impossible. Because he knew they never will and can never be together.

It feels so cold when it rains

When it pours from the heaven like tears of pearl

That had broken free from my grasp.

The rain had been a witness when I first demanded a kiss.

But I also cried underneath it.--

"Casualties?" the strength of the feminine voice was impossible to read. It resounded in Naruto's subconscious like water cascading down on his closed palm. The gondaime had taken of her cape and placed it over the dobe's lithe body, offering him the warmth he was so often denied of.

"T-There are…Tsunade-sama." The chuunin announced, her voice shaking, almost ceasing to a silence as it falters.

"Who?"

The said chuunin didn't say anything more, owing to the fact that she couldn't more than she doesn't want to, but began to sob bitterly instead. Naruto's barely whimsical, deteriorating consciousness shattered into millions of innocent pieces that pierced through his heart. Tsunade-sama and he, himself know what the pungent weeping of the kunoichi, Yamanaka, Ino, herself, means.

Sakura-chan…and the Uchiha…his precious Uchiha

Is gone.

Birds flew from their nest and leaves shook in the middle of summer as the thunderous screams roused the distance proximal to the gruesome event. It was then, as the masked Shinobi's feet touched the ground when blood started to rain on him, and the screams had finally echoed its last breath. The Nin laughed. Almost. And his voice had been guttural—as if every word is drawn from the gasp of a man who had so long emanated the curse of the Dark Devil himself.

He re-sheathed the blood splattered piece of long, prevailing steel and took off his solemn mask of imperfection. Azure eyes looked up to the sky, as the queen itself looked down upon her child, basking the copper-gold colored skin upon the most awesome face in all of Konoha. His hair had taken up the wild colors of stunning yellow and had delicately framed a demigod's face in strength of fatal sensuality that lures even the most stoic upon the crowd. There were several scar marks on his face, but it did nothing to lessen the features of the beautiful boy, instead, it heightened his appearance to a savage angel. He continued looking up, seemingly asking the queen of the sky to answer the questions that reigned his thoughts ever since the gondaime broke the news to him. Emotions he had buried deep within him for what seemed like eons were brought back to life, haunting him once again, clashing swords with the barrier he had created to protect himself from any more pain. It was unearthed so easily by such simple words—words he knew that would disturb him if not proven completely. Words that he knew should have never been spoken amidst the crowd of those who had suffered the same way he had.

"He's alive."

That's what the infamous Tsunade-sama had uttered, words that echoed an endless questions in Naruto's mind.

"He's alive." The kitsune repeated as he drew his sight down after the queen refused to answer his inquiries. Hurt were etched upon his cerulean eyes, but he tried to hide the glimmer that betrays it. For seven years, he had thought he was dead, long buried and had turned to ashes. But in the pallid moment of his desperation he finally found out that he had survived, that he is somewhere out there, beneath the same sky in which he, Naruto, is blanketed upon.

Queries reverberated into his ears, crushing the nearly-fallen entity that supplies him his nonchalance. But among these questions is something that mocked even the pain and sorrow he had felt for such everlasting moment of grief. Something, not even his defence mechanism, his denial could breach. Question that speaks of the reality Naruto had known for so long but had tried so bitterly to oppose.

If Sasuke really is alive—then why hasn't he come back home?

Everything deteriorates—crumbles to pieces—torn apart by the savagery of this God-abandoned world. The faces on the mountain, no matter how strong the people they signify were, will somehow succumb to an end—because the strange fact of this life is that—everything ends.

And if there is one thing Uzumaki, Naruto had longed to see right now, for the past seven years—is something to counter Orochimaru's vestiges of belief…that everything fades away to nothingness…and that nothing truly does stay the same.

But how could he hold on to his weak proposition, when the only evidence that made him believe he had ever been right had now driven a knife into his heart, betraying him of the single sensible thing that kept him alive? He thought that emotions—love specifically—could never change; has no end as it has no clear beginning. If that would ever be true, then his beloved would still be by his side. Uchiha, Sasuke would have come back home for his kitsune—but that never happened.

Sasuke had completely deserted him.

No. Wasn't it the other way around? He, Naruto had deserted him, had pushed him out of his miserable life. But no matter how far had he gone from running away, still, his Uchiha would go after him, ready to accept him even if he fails. Sasuke never left his side. It was he who had inflicted hundred times of pain to his beloved, but then, for the last moment, it was Uchiha, Sasuke who broke the bond that connected them both in heart, mind, soul and body. And so Naruto was left to be punished for his despicable act of trying so hard to love the one man who brought tears to his eyes and smiles to his supple lips.

He was a moron, always trying to be better; always wanting to prove himself even if it means hurting the ones he love. How ironic it was, that he might want for something he has so cruelly, coldly thrown away. How unmoved he was when he had scarred the emotions of those so close to the now-wounded part of him that neither modern medicine nor the traditional healing art could reach! Yes, he was always a show-off…but how else could he prove them his self-worth?

Oh, but wait there. Sasuke had seen Naruto's significance even without his kitsune trying so damn hard. He had loved him for who he is and not for what he could be. And that's the fact that Naruto has failed to see. That regardless of his flaw, there will always be someone desiring to lay wanting lips hungrily upon his own only to silence his words of self-pity.

"Sa-Sasuke…Nani?"

His silence remained as the only ethereal reply as the Uchiha sat on the window sill, staring at the blond dobe who had been occupying his bed.

"Sasuke…Sasuke no teme!" he yelled in a high-pitched voice that doesn't sound like his own at all. The raven-haired Shinobi just shrugged off his sudden change of temperament and resumed his little torturing which he finds, much to the blond's dismay, a little amusing.

"Baka! Stop staring! It gives me goosebumps, would you mind?" he threw his flaxen bangs away from his cerulean eyes. Sasuke on the other hand, relished on the sight of the dobe's powerful and seductive orbs as his fatal, blatant smile was reflected in them. Naruto, who had been lying in bed with a hell lot of bandages tried to arch his back into a mid-stretch and yelled when several of his muscles gave in to the hurt.

"What kind of pleasure do you find by staring at the form of a man you have almost beaten to death at training earlier, huh, Uchiha bastard? My muscles are sore and my forehead is still bleeding and I can barely move. Don't tell me you find that pretty amusing and equally as sensual as I am dancing naked in front of you huh?" the young kitsune almost drowned in the distant glint that played on the eyes of the Sharingan bearer, who shrugged once again, and still unperturbed, continued to watch him.

"Why? Do you prefer my ass hurting and bleeding instead?" he snapped, losing his patience.

"Wouldn't you?" the Uchiha remarked playfully although his face displayed nothing but his eternal mask of coldness and nonchalance.

"Y-You baka! You sadistic fucker! Do you think I prefer you beating me to death at our sparring match then fucking me senseless afterwards as if it's your way to make it up to me? No—I don't find it arousing and I hate it, fuck you! I am not a whore who screams in heat everytime you—"

The dobe didn't see it coming nor has he ever thought of it but he suddenly realized that he couldn't talk any longer, because the midnight-haired lad had claimed his lips, covering it with his own dry ones. Naruto tried to argue with him but the Uchiha, taking his opportune moment when the blond opened his mouth to tell him off, to plunge his tongue in, delicately luring the blond to submission. Naruto, all of his thoughts vanishing into thin air, suddenly felt the warmth spreading through his body and settling somewhere in places he didn't want the Uchiha to take notice by now.

So he was almost grateful and disappointed all at the same time when Sasuke broke off his kiss and leaned on the bed, settling his dark, blank eyes upon him once again.

"Shut up, dobe. You're making me forget you're injured." He said, coldly but with mixtures of coaxing. Naruto frowned at him once again, a pretence, because deep inside, the little monster of the Uzumaki roars in triumph by the mere sight of the Sharingan bearer looking at his with such interest and…love, hidden beneath the shadows of his dark, smouldering glare.

"I have always wanted to be complete, Naruto. After losing my whole clan, after being isolated from the kids of my age—god, I missed being whole." He said, his eyes reflecting the sadness of his tone. Naruto felt the grief—knew it—wants to share it, but he kept quiet, wanting nothing but the rarely heard confessions from the mouth of the man who kept away from life.

"So what's that got to do with you staring at me?" Naruto pushed, trying to sound mad but at the brink of failure.

"Because I have finally found the concluding piece of the puzzle that completes my life. And I am frightened that once I close my eyes, it may vanish, forever. I can't lose you, my kitsune…not now that I have finally found you."

But you're not with me anymore, Sasuke-san. You're gone. You're the ghost of me. But I'm still here, waiting. My puzzle, was broken. I lost you, and I never will find you. Sasuke-san…do I have to keep on living? You told me, when we got separated once, when you joined that snake's army, that you will always hear me…just call, you said. Just shout my name and I'll come for you. You will—come back for me, wouldn't you?

But I have called for the thousandth time and you never came.

Do you still hear me then?

--
She smiled at her own reflection as she brushed her cherry-pink, waist-length hair. Cool, emerald eyes looked back at her, carrying the same unmistakable glint of strength and persistence within them. Ivory, pale skin and the most treasured facial contours characterized her beauty into perfection. The childish hints of merry plays upon the edge of her mouth had evolved into a powerful words of a woman. Her body had curved into a sumptuous, elegant form framed by the silken Chinese dress she's wearing, making her more desirable than before. Wisdom beyond her years voluptuously crowned her knowing eyes, and her deliciously crafted image made the word 'perfection' an understatement. She is beyond intolerable beauty. Above praise and beyond fear.

She is Sakura, Haruno, the mother of the last living heir to a legacy—the wife of a powerful man whose words were to be followed and not to be broken by the people of a new, blossoming country.

The key that called to life the clan that had been buried six feet under. Buried, but not dead. Alive, but not breathing.

The clan that carries the Sharingan Bloodline Limit.

The Uchiha.

"Hayaku! Hayaku, Kaa-san!" a young boy, about the age of six appeared at the reflection of her wooden-framed mirror, making Sakura squeal with surprise. She pulled out her makeshift frown, put down the brush she was using, then turned to the child who had his hands on his waist, his intense emerald eyes boring a hole through her.

Sakura adored the simple ways her son's eyes would roll from one direction to another, showing off his impatience. She loved seeing the excitement in his bright green eyes—the only feature he got from her.

All else—from the delicate curve of his nose and the prominent cheeks—the thick dark lashes and extravagantly preciuos facial expressions drawn by an utterance of breath—to the smooth angle of his chin and his almost-perfect smile—came from his great father. Uchiha, Izuki is the miniature personification of the man Haruno, Sakura had worshipped as a child and had finally won over as a woman.

"Hayaku, Heika-chan, or we'll miss the show!" the child ranted, his velvety dark, midnight-colored hair swaying as the wind blew from the window. Sakura smiled at her son but immediately pasted the façade in the immaculate form of a distinct frown.

"Demo, Izuki-dono…I am not yet ready." She said, hiding her amusement. "You'll have to wait 'til I am done with my hair."

The child's round eyes widen in immediate annoyance but he quickly reclaimed his unperturbed, indifferent pretence. "As you wish, Heika-chan but I tell you, the show would be astounding! Too bad we missed it because you took so long on your vanity."

"Now, now, where have you learn to talk like that, child?" she said in false undertone. Izuki pouted, glaring at his mother's face for the longest time, his huge emerald orb unblinking. "Izuki-kun?"

"Kaa-san, you can't fool me, you know?" the child at last blinked, a small smile dawning on his pale lips. Instantly, Sakura burst out laughing. She took the child in her arms, hugging him tightly.

"Kaa-san, I can't breathe!" Izuki blurted out, hands flailing wildly at his sides. He tried to pry away his mother's grip of off him but his protests was unheard of.

Izuki had been as red as tomato when his mother was done with her bear-hug. Coughing, the child threw her another of his piercing glares then remembering something, he asked innocently, "Kaa-san, can I ask you something?"

"Hn?"

Swoosh…

"Where's Konoha?"

The brush Sakura retrieved had fell to the marble floor with a loud, ear-splitting sound. Izuki almost lost his aloofness as his mother shot up straight from the chair and grabbed both his shoulders, shaking him as she continuously asked;

"Where have you heard that name, Izuki? Tell me. Who dare speak that name? Has your father heard about this? Izuki! Does anyone else knows?"

"K-Kaa-san…M-Megumi kind of mentioned it earlier at class you see." Izuki's eyes widened as he watched the colors draining from his mother's face; the hands holding him trembling uncontrollably. It surprised him to see her reaction when she had just been smiling joyfully at him a minute before. Reflected in those emerald eyes were desperation and worries Izuki had never seen his mother wear. "I-I was curious. I have never heard of such 'Konoha' before."

Sakura stared at his face for a couple of minute's silence as if trying to weigh his words. Finally, she sighed…picking herself up from crouching on the floor, muttering a decent apology assuming that the man she's talking to is not barely out of his preschool years.

"What's in Konoha, Kaa-san?" Izuki saw the calmness finally taking over his mother's features and felt it safe to push on with his inquiries. He blinked naively as he watched his Kaa-san's graceful, yet unsure movements.

Sakura threw her son a silencing look and turned on her heels after picking up the brush that rolled over underneath the wardrobe. "Konoha doesn't exist, Izuki. It's some child-conjured paradise that doesn't suit to be told to an Uchiha heir. Now get along. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"But—Kaa-san, Megumi told us it's a great town where the legendary Nins originated. What are Nins, Kaa-san? Megumi told me they're trained warriors who fight for justice! And she also mentioned this H-U-G-E arena in the middle of the town where people flock to every year to catch this certain event—what was that again—the Chuunin Exam—yeah…that's what I remembered or was it Chuusin—no it was Chuukin—I think…or was it…"

"IZUKI STOP!" Sakura roared, her patience wearing out. Izuki looked up to his mother, seeing rage personified within her eyes and he immediately shut his mouth. "Konoha doesn't exist. Megumi's just telling you a story. Something from a dreamworld, conjured by an un-preoccupied mind. If you want to be like your father you'll stop being a child and grow up already!"

Sakura saw the tears forming on the side of her son's eyes but she didn't seem to care. He heard his cries, his shouting before he turned his back on her and sprinted outside without another word, but she just stood there, anger filling her to the brim of her existence. But as the fury slowly fades, Izuki's voice echoed within her, reiterating with no falter.

"I am not him, Kaa-san! Why do I always have to be like Otou-san? I don't want to be an abomination like my father! I hate him! And I hate you! I despise you both! And I hate wearing the shirt with the uchiwa symbols in it!"

Sakura would have laughed at Izuki's last words given the right situation. Yes, Izuki may have been a part of the Uchiha Clan but he doesn't seem proud of it. He is especially revolted at the thought of wearing the Uchiha Clan's insignia—the paper fan. He would often say the design is too girly for his taste. But this isn't the time to be laughing about it now. She should go after the boy before he gets himself lost and hurt again.

But she merely stared at the empty space that had swallowed up her son. And she did nothing but that.

"Na-Naruto-kun, daijobu ka?" a male husky voice asked, his face buried in the pillow as movements never ceased. He heard Naruto's own muffled reply but it didn't register clearly in his clouded mind. Instincts just drove him to thrust in and out of his kitsune more forcefully, and neither his assurance that he was hurt, nor his own conscience telling him he was being a down right jerk could stop him from taking the blond senselessly. He, Sasuke, had been so desperate to make the loud-mouth dobe his.

Naruto had clung on to his shoulders tightly as he continued to work his way in and out, unmindful of the weight and the pain in that place where Sasuke had been penetrating himself. He had so often dreamt of this and it sure does felt a lot better doing it and only imagining it. At least he would not be hard up pleasuring himself all alone.

But Naruto couldn't seem to get enough of the Uchiha's menial thrusts. On the contrary, he wanted more of him. So he clasp his arms around the Sharingan holder's waist and urged him to go on a little harder, rocking his hips more assuring to encourage the brunette. Naruto heard him groan his way inside his tightness and his lips split into a wide smile for that. Then, he wound his legs around the boy on top of him, helping him to get more delicious little frictions on their flesh.

Naruto went against the nauseous recollections in mind and directly followed his instincts. Though the pain still throbs within his heart, he knew he must confirm the inevitable. He wanted to see with his own two eyes that the certain Uchiha, Sasuke still exist, breathes, smiles—loves.

He knew it would be difficult but he has to try. There is still some hope left. He let a minute, stunningly agonizing smile to dawn upon his quivering lips. Yes, it would be difficult but Sasuke meant his words when he said he won't let his kitsune go without a fight. He wouldn't let Naruto hurt for him.

He promised.

So he walked on, cutting his way through the hanging branches as he leapt from one tree to another. The wind went against his direction, filling him with the cold that pierces though is skin like flame lapping up his soul. The thick foliages prevented too much sunlight to filter through, denying him the warmth of embers that could kill the freezing coldness within him.

Will Sasuke forgive him for being such an unfair dobe? That after all the promises made, Naruto uncharacteristically let his beloved fade away.

Naruto choked back his tears. Surprisingly, yes, tears. He had never cried so easily before…no…he never cried before. Not in front of anyone, not even his beloved. He doesn't want to appear pathetic, but right now, is not the time to be holding back. If he continued doing so—it would explode within him, destroying his emotions and sanity together with it. Fragile is not a word to be trampled upon, because it can unceremoniously burn you up inside.

It was a mistake.

He heaved a deep sigh, pausing to catch a second's breath as he leaned on the trunk of a towering tree, looking towards the far horizon. A small, undisturbed village loomed in the direction over the east and if he hurry, he might reach it before midnight. He had been on the road for two straight weeks with no decent sleep and food to eat. Tsunade-sama didn't even know he left Konoha. She didn't know Naruto had been in her office, prowling among her hundreds of top secret files until he came across the particular one he had been looking for.

Uchiha, Izuki. That was the name written on the file. It was reported and sent in authority by one of Konoha's most renowned spy, Ichitaka, Megumi—a Jounin. Naruto wasn't able to read the rest of the testimony though, because of sudden unworthy of mentioning interferences. Only the name of this particular place was instilled in his head. Migono, Shadow Country.

And so that's where he's headed. In a painful attempt to know why Sasuke had changed his name to Izuki and why Tsunade-sama refused to give him more information about her discovery. He wanted to see for himself the ghost of the man that had risen from death.

He wanted to know if his Uchiha still feels for him the way he does almost seven years ago, when they were of fresh age of sixteen, when everything goes the way they want it to be. When they would lose themselves in the erratic vortex of their dreams and anticipation for the potentials of the future.

Naruto mused further on. Konoha had offered him his most priceless dream almost a year ago. It wants him to become the Hokage, taking up after Tsunade-sama. But he refused. Not because he gave up on dreaming—he still has a lot of them, though most of it involves a certain brunette with dark eyes—but because he had made a pact with his Uchiha that if ever this day comes, Sasuke should be the one to commemorate him. But how could he accept, knowing that his beloved one wouldn't be there to watch him? If only he could turn back time—

His heart had ceased beating for a whole minute, thinking of the impossible. But his senses came back to him when he heard a divergent sound directly below where he stood. Out of curiosity, or maybe out of pure care, which he failed to recognize at the moment, he crouched low and searched for the source of the sound.

There it was, at the farthest corner of his vantage point—a child sat on the bushes with his head resting on his knees. Naruto could hear distant sniffling sound coming from the boy, suggesting quite literally that he is crying. Assessing him up, Naruto concluded the boy to be about five to seven years of age, pale skin and dark spun of unmistakable midnight hair. Even though with the child's face still obscured, the kitsune easily feels a deep anticipation within him. Following his infallible instincts once again, he jumped down and landed smoothly on the ground. Slowly, he made his way towards the child, his voice calling out in a soft tone, asking the broken lad the matter.

Silence served as his only reply. Naruto halted a few meters away from the fallen entity, just staring, simply letting his instincts take over him. Foreboding flooded within him in no such reason, but Naruto waited—

Progressively, the child peered within the gap of his arms where his face had been buried. Progressively, Naruto saw the deep, rounded emerald eyes and the knitted brows. Afterwards, the smooth, ivory cheekbones then the pale, pink lips curved downward to re-created the atmosphere of a frown with such great mastery of the art, revealed themselves to him.

And what followed next procrastinated the progression, if not cut the threads of nonexistent hope that had managed to clung onto Naruto's heart after all these years, confirming the foreboding that had attached themselves to his heart, summing up all the pain and denial in one full blow of reasons.

The child resisted any flaws of imperfection—the child is the evidence that made all denial possible.

And from somewhere, where the dangerously infinite void resides, came out a voice.

He who shamed me in façade of tenderness. He who mocked me but yearned for my embrace. He who displays indifference but so much in need of love—of my love. He who became the demigod of my dreams.

The ghost that haunts me.

My mistake.

My beloved.

"Sasuke."

The boy's face contorted to a dissent of hurt, then his lips moved into unuttered screams.

"I am NOT my father!" and with that, after what seemed like a lingering eternity, he pivoted and left Naruto stuck hurting on the ground.

END OF FIRST CHAPTER

A/N: Please…I beg you do review! My inspiration thrives on feedback!Ja

I want to acknowledge Vertical Horizon's song I'm Still Here Continue rocking the entire world guys I love yah!