We don't own our heavens now

He sighed, let go of his hitai-ate. It made a hollow sound as it fell down on the wooden floor. He would've liked to put it on the commode in the hallway but he couldn't- his hands weren't listening, they shook, just a little, but enough for his plans to fall apart. He remained standing for a while, listening to his pulse as it pushed his blood around and he couldn't understand why. Another day, any other day he would have thought about it but this day he shook his head and went to the bathroom, stripped out of his clothes that didn't want to let go, blood and sweat and grime made sure they stuck to him like a distant scream that he refused to hear. It took a while for the thought to appear that maybe he should turn the water on and managed it, despite his shaking digits that kept on slipping on the metallic faucet and he showered for a long while, even though it hurt. He walked out of the shower, stood frozen in front of the bureau and the options that multiplied made him feel sick. He pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of soft gray pants that wasn't his, he changed his mind, took a black pair instead. Those were his. He didn't dwell on it, felt nothing. He went to the door, checked to see if it was locked, it wasn't, he locked it, pulled on it, had no intention of dealing with visitors. And then he walked to the bed, slowly, as if he feared bumping into anything, as if a tiny little push was enough to break him apart, at the slightest of breezes he might scatter across the floor in a icy pool of shards. He sank down between the covers, hogged them for himself as he hadn't done in years, turned into a lump of down and cotton.

This was it.

He could let go now.

He hadn't picked a lock in years, he realized as he fumbled a little on the wires that were sticking out. Generally Iruka preferred to stay on the legal side of things but he'd heard what happened (as if there was someone within a 200 miles radius that hadn't) and immediately thought of Naruto. He went to check up on him but he refused to answer and he knew he was in there, which left him no choice.

The discussion he'd had so long ago refused to leave him alone and it had been eating away at him for half a day.

"I should go check up on him."

Kakashi looked worried.

Iruka laughed at the silver haired man.

"Kakashi. He's an adult, he is more than able to fend for himself."

"But-"

"He has a fractured rib, which I'm sure will be fully healed by tomorrow, if not sooner."

The other man pursed his lips, as if saying that it damn well didn't matter just what he suffered from, it was bad enough that he wasn't well. An unsettling expression showed up in his eye, a loving, hurting flicker of emotions.

"I don't want him to be alone." he said lowly.

It hurt as hell when Iruka thought back on it and almost cringed at the thought of how it must be for Naruto. He couldn't even begin to understand what it felt like. The door swung up at last and he stepped inside, all senses on edge.

"Naruto?"

No answer. He wasn't sure what he had expected. "I'm coming in." He said, more to make up his mind than to inform anyone else.

He checked the bedroom first, and there he was, burrowed in like a bird in its nest, impossible to reach as it sat in the tree climbing the sky.

"I heard what happened. I am so, so sorry."

Naruto didn't say anything, Iruka could tell that he'd been crying, his eyes were red but seemed empty now, as if his tears had finally run out. He squatted down next to the bed, saw the mess first-hand, just how upset he was, how broken he was and with a slow motion he patted the hand that held the blanket so tightly. Changing his mind, he sat down and grabbed his hand instead, as if to physically get a hold of him, to rein him in and keep him from disappearing. Naruto mumbled something, then another relentless tear made its way down his cheek.

"What did you say?" he asked softly.

The blue eyes stared out, away from him, into the kitchen where you could see a rickety chair.

"He was here this morning-" And then his voice cracked, a soundless scream escaped him, an agony too large for words to even touch, the tears were streaming now and Iruka felt tears of his own as he held on tighter to his hand.

You were here just this morning. You existed this morning. I saw you pick up your favorite cup, the green one that I got you. I got you so many but you picked that one because you knew it made me happy. How can you be gone when you were here this morning. You cannot be gone. How can you be gone. We have a dinner tomorrow, at Sakura-chans place, and how the hell am I supposed to go there now? Why the hell are you not here? You can't be dead. You can't be dead. You can't leave me here. Kakashi you can't leave me. I just want to see you. A second later he realized that he never would again and breathing became so very difficult.

Iruka came back the next day to check up on him, saw that nothing had changed. He knew from his work that this kind of thing could take a while, knew not to push him. He tried to get him to eat something but he refused. "I'll eat later," he said, Iruka knew he wouldn't. He went shopping so that there would at least be food there, if he wanted some. He then went on to report to Tsunade-sama that was just as unsettled as he was, as the entire village was.

"How is he?"

Iruka shrugged, knew that there were no levels of loss.

"He's hanging on..." He thought of his dead eyes, his lifeless responses. "Barely," he added.

Tsunade-sama sighed buried her face in her hands.

"Who'd have thought... One of the best shinobi in the village."

He kept his mouth shut, had nothing to say except curse over what people called 'fate'.

The last time he'd been there he'd simply taken his key because as it was now Naruto didn't seem to plan on leaving the house and it was better if Iruka had it, since it at least spared him of having to pick the lock every time he came to visit. A half-eaten sandwich was on the table, now dried up, he sighed and threw it in the bin. He wasn't eating properly. In the apartment nothing had changed, absolutely nothing, despite the fact that there was only one person living here now and the words were bitter even in his head. Naruto was in the bed, barely reacting as he saw him.

"How are you?"

He sat down by the bed, as he'd become accustomed to doing.

"I'm fine." A blatant lie, it fell flat the second it came out of his mouth, clothed in those inanimate puffs of air.

"Naruto you haven't changed clothes in a week. Also it's time you took a shower."

He pulled the cover down, saw how much weight he'd lost, as if his entire being had just given up, fully content with the risk of simply fading away. Naruto didn't say anything, didn't protest, went with him to the bathroom, accepted the towel he handed him and shut the door properly behind him. It took a couple of minutes but then Iruka heard the sound of water running and was glad that he was actually doing something that was good for him, albeit it was a very small thing. He waited outside, fifteen minutes, twenty, and then finally Naruto stepped out wrapped tightly in the towel, looking a tiny bit better, a little sharper around the edges it would seem. Iruka smiled, "feeling better?"

Naruto nodded slightly.

Naruto walked towards the bureau, Iruka had stayed in the kitchen, making food, he wasn't feeling hungry but weakly appreciated the gesture. He pulled out the first drawer and the familiar smell hit him like a sledgehammer in his stomach. Everything smelled like him, like he smelled when he hugged him, when he wrapped his arms around him, so lovingly, and a wail escaped him because of that same love that was cutting him up from inside and Kurama suffered right alongside with him, set him ablaze from his core, depleting what strength he had to burn everything that hurt him away. At the sight of the gray sweatpants he sank down on the floor, unable to stop the tears.

Tsunade eyed him from across the desk. No point in asking him when he would return to his job and become like he used to be. Ever since she laid eyes on him from the doorway she had had a sinking feeling that he wasn't coming back. Naruto was gone. He had lost weight, the clothes were loose on him, he'd always been buff and now he was lanky, an eerie copy of the one who was never coming back. He was a shadow, having discarded the need to function, a mere existence in Konoha clothing. She found herself cursing under her breath, cursing Kakashi for making the repulsive decision to leave his bed that day. She cursed him for doing his job, for doing his duty, for walking out the door, for being so earnest, for the fact that he wasn't home sick that day, just one day, goddamn it Kakashi you could have been sick just one damn day and none of this would have happened.

Months passed, forcing him to acknowledge the fact that he wasn't coming back. Naruto was having none of it. With his back against the door he stayed in the bed, not crying, not doing anything. Sleeping the days away because being awake was too painful. None of the outside world mattered, it could go to hell for all he cared. The light in it was gone. He thought about the funeral. If someone had asked him before, before the world turned to scraps, before his heart turned to shreds and before he'd been so content from being loved, he would've said that the ceremony was nice. But it hadn't been nice, not in his eyes, not since he knew exactly who was in that urn, whose soft warm hands that had been reduced to nothingness. He hated sleeping in the bed, in the bed where they had been intertwined. It ached, a hollow ache, when he saw couples on the street.

I'm not yours anymore.

Some days were good, some days were bad. Somehow he had managed to pick himself up again. His life was still empty, but every now and then he managed a smile, a genuine smile, hoping that it was what he would have wanted.

I'll try to live for you.

I will live.

For you.

They both walked out of the central building, the early morning light begged them not to make a ruckus first thing in the morning. Most people were still asleep under the flamboyant, warming sun. A few clouds tainted an otherwise blue sky and spring had really come. He stopped for a while, had forgotten why he was so sad.

The first spring without him.

He dropped his gaze to the ground, felt the familiar gut-wrenching feeling reappear from whatever corner it had been hiding in. He gritted his teeth but couldn't keep the tears from coming. Sakura had gone ahead of him but went back, sensing why he'd stopped.

He looked up into the sky, into the azure sky, saw a little cloud, stretched his hand out, as if to grab a hold, to reach across the chasm. Maybe he was there, maybe he wasn't. He took his chances.

If you're there...

The tears were falling now, heavily, at the mere thought of speaking to him again.

If you're listening...

He waited a second, for a sign, for anything. Nothing.

I know I have no right, but...

Will you wait for me?

Please wait for me.

And if I can ask, then please, don't forget about me.

Sakura grabbed him into a tight embrace, and he sniffed into her shoulder, sent one last thought across the heavens.

I love you.