cold. we all have foolish wishes sometimes.
It is winter in Konoha. But he only knows because his breath turns white when he breathes out small puffs of air. Naruto, being the ficle person he is, doesn't like winter too much; Naruto doesn't like any season too much really. Silently, he watches as fragile leaves turn white in their old age and counts the days until he can see the first shade of green. Naruto doesn't like winter too much; partially because of the old age that progresses to make it into a season of death, and yet ironically: rebirth.
Naruto doesn't like winter too much. Not really.
But he knows when it ends, everything is reborn. The dirt and grime washes away with the melting snow; and that makes it a bit more bearable. Naruto still waits for the day when the empty spaces of white disappear into mixes of green, brown and blue. Still waits for the day that everything will come back just a little bit greener, just a little bit purer. Maybe, he thinks, if he closes his eyes long enough; maybe things will go back to the way they were. But Naruto is slow, not stupid. He knows things will never stay the same.
In, out. And another breath is lost.
Naruto leans back on the cold wall behind him and wonders, if he wishes hard enough, would he be able to be like Konoha? Like his breath? Would he be able to fade into w h i t e?