Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or the Naruto series. I'm just borrowing them for the moment.
I was in the mood to write some angst (very rare) so I decided to pour out my current angst into Microsoft word.
'Why?'
He had been begun to feel off when the whole thing started; the whole thing with Sasuke.
He had been going strong, the words rolling off of his back and taking as many hits, physical and emotional, as Sasuke could give. The way he looked at it, if Sasuke felt like saying or doing these things, then he could do them as much as he wanted but Naruto wouldn't back down, because Naruto was strong and he wouldn't be beaten.
To this day people still asked him to relay what had happened on that apocalyptic day. And for years, he could.
'Why?'
People had been concerned about him, had asked him if he was ok and he had fought off their worries with his bright smiles and cheerful habits because at that time, he had been ok.
'So why all of the sudden…?'
But as the years passed on and the damage that Sasuke's actions caused grew and destroyed the life that he had known for years, Naruto began to notice something strange.
He couldn't talk about Sasuke without being oddly affected.
Now his 'come at me' attitude was a defense mechanism, used to try and protect himself from the abuse rather than to try and beat it.
The amount of his growth and success over the years proved to others his strength. But why all the sudden, did he feel so weak?
These thoughts plagued him as he ran home, his heart beating so loud against his chest that it seemed to echo off of the alley walls that surrounded him as he darted through the shady sections of Konoha to avoid running into friends.
Water splashed onto his legs as he ran at a normal speed, his mind too jumbled to even run at a proper ninja pace.
He had been treating Konohamaru and his friends to ramen.
"Hey Boss, tell us about the day that Sasuke ran away." Konohamaru had asked.
From the way that they all leaned in Naruto guessed that Konohamaru's friends had probably asked him to request the story.
"Why? You were all there." Naruto said, keeping his tone light.
The orange haired girl rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, but not for the good parts."
It had been a warm night but suddenly Naruto felt cold and distant, like a part of him was watching this all happen from above as he realized that one of the worst days of his life, where he lost his best friend and almost his life, was a mere story to the villagers.
His heart pumped seemingly ice cold blood through him at an erratic pace as the strange 'out-of-body' feeling continued. An unpleasant squirming feeling growing in his chest as he grasped the edges of his stool, contemplating on what to do next. The part of him that watched from the sky guided him off the stool and out of the ramen shop in an almost trance like state.
Naruto stood in the street for a second, staring blankly ahead as peopled brushed past him, the unpleasant energy pumping through his body, filling him up so entirely that he thought he would go insane if he didn't get rid of it. So he did what his best friend did best.
He ran.
But as he ran into the alleys, ducking under cobwebs and jumping over trashcans he had a chilling moment where he understood why Sasuke ran. When you ran you were getting away from whatever was bothering you, when you ran you were escaping.
The ground blurred underneath his feet and he found himself in front of the main gate, looking at the line that separated Konoha from the outside world. He stood there, staring at it, gasping for air, his chest heaving.
"I don't want to be part of any more stories." He gasped his voice barely audible.
He took a step forward.
"I don't want to get asked about you anymore."
Another step.
"I don't want to be consumed by you anymore."
And another.
"It's been years, I'm a different person. I'm stronger, smarter, and wiser. I haven't seen you in years."
He stumbled forward and dropped to his knees, his fingertips touching the line that, years ago, Sasuke had crossed.
"So why…" Naruto murmured, rubbing the cold metal. His eyes filling with tears and he took in a shuddery breathe, trying to hold in the tears.
He balled his hands into fists and leaned down, resting his forehead against his hands and let out a chocked sob.
"So why do I cry every time I talk about you?"