SilverKyuubi says: I'm back with a one-shot. I've gotten my inspiration for this from a number of sources. First, from the movie Swing Kids. StarsofYaoi/Cepheus is a great writer whom I admire greatly. Cepheus's stories are great, and the plots have a very novelistic structure to it. You would make a great novelist!
Warnings: This is a SUICIDE one-shot. If you are in anyway uncomfortable with this, LEAVE NOW. I will not be accountable for posting this on If suicide offends you, leave. No one is making anyone read this.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto and co.
0o0o0o0o
Owning Death
0o0o0o0o
Naruto's eyes seemed an endless pit of deep ocean. There was no beginning of the darkness, only the knowledge that the further down you go, the darker it gets. No matter how dark it seems one moment, it's always darker the further you go down, until you can feel the oblivion press upon you.
They were dead now. Well, not quite yet...
He stood there, looking out his window. Even though the sun shined on his golden hair, it lacked the normal light, seeming much dimmer than it used to. His tan seemed dull now, everything about him seemed to drag.
No one ever cared...
He had kept his promise of a long time. He went to retrieve Sasuke from the clutches of his own soul, in exchange for his own it seemed.
Naruto had grown cold in Sasuke's time away, feircer on the inside. Then, it seemed was when it started coming to him. He fought tooth and nail when he was young, showing the world his facade, as he had no real other means of survival. But Sasuke's betrayal had shattered any hope Naruto had at owning a friendship worth while...
It was strange, yet almost comforting the way it started to consume him. Where he was able to give up all will and all hurt, where that sweet numbness could block the pain he was feeling, so that all he had to do was stare into nothing.
He trained mindlessly.
He cared nothing for his improvements, cared nothing for the way his body would where on day after day. More techniques, more attack patterns to learn, more hand signs...
More, more, more, more...
It was endless. Naruto felt like the time that was spent there was a mere day in the course of a month, a week in a year. Nothing seemed long enough. The training, the fighting, the learning, the waiting, the sleeping...
It was more time for him to drift off. To wander away from earth.
It was hardly noticeable at first, probably because it started out slow.
The first symptom was his addiction to sleep. Not like a laziness, but like a way to escape. His cocoon of sleep that would envelope him and give him security. He was naturally an early riser, but he had slept in more and more until Jiraiya would practically have to throw him out of bed. He would only give that sheepish smile that never seemed to reach his eyes anymore. No more.
After a time Jiraiya started to take notice of his changing attitudes.
Lack of food, a lot of sleep, mindless training...Over the months, Naruto's life started to become a zombie. He would train, work hard, but there was no longer a spirit. No longer a fire to push that body into action. It was becoming frightening to the sannin. The emotionless and dead look on his face, the way he would say things in a monotonous voice, it was all like Naruto wasn't home.
The blonde hardly gave the situation a glance. The man would yell profanities at him, yelling about his health and how he should really put effort into his works, but it never mattered.
Nothing mattered now.
Somehow, Naruto had known that all along. It just took Sasuke to help him tear that hope off of him, to destroy the bridge he was standing on to let him grasp the harsh reality and drown in it beneath him.
In a way, he owed the Uchiha for the wisdom he had bestowed the blonde.
Kyuubi never really helped, either.
The fox living inside of him would randomly show him visions of death, blood spattered walls, decaying bodies of children, infants and women stacked in a pile while the crows fed on their rotten flesh. Kyuubi would always envision these things, so that they would appear so real to Naruto. He had almost lost his mind when he was a child. After a time, the visions stopped.
Did it stop when his tears did..? He didn't know. He was tired of crying. Tired of smelling fresh death in his senses, feeling it pressed inside and all around him. Tired.
He really tried to be something for the village. He always wanted to be, always dreamed of it sometimes when he was naive and stupid. But those times were gone now.
He would never forget the stones thrown at him, the kunais, the screams of "Monster!!", attempts at murder, even though they never realized that they were killing him the whole time.
His 'friends' would never see, simply because they simply refused to. They never looked at his pain, his torture. They were all blind to him, because they didn't want to understand his burden. Let him carry his troubles, in order to spare them their own. He's an embodiment of pain, why not give him yours as well? What would one more do...
Kakashi was aware of the suffering, and instead pushed him off so that he would not have to deal with such an impudence. Such a nuisance. The silver-haired man had enough torture in his own heart, why have to carry some idiot blonde's burdens as well?
Cold. In the end, every one of them was alone.
Everyone hated him. They told him so.
Naruto turned his eyes away from the window as he looked on towards the lights that glittered and shined over all of Konoha, more so tonight than any other night.
Ah, yes...this night...
October 10th.
Celebration of their hero. And the defeat of the fox.
His birthday. A supposed day of celebration of the day he exited his mother's womb and into the world.
What in the hell was there to celebrate about that? In his own mind, his mother condemned him to a life of utter misery, and then left him alone in it. As well as his father...
Seems his parents didn't want him either.
Nobody did. Not Kakashi, not Iruka, not Sakura, not Tsunade, not Sasuke...
Especially not Sasuke. The Uchiha wished him dead. He had tried to kill him numerous times before after all. He had even said once after Naruto retrieved him that he hated him. It seemed the raven was surprised though, when Naruto turned his own dead looking ones to him, appearing uncaring or unsurprised by his confession.
Naruto let a bitter chuckle escape him.
Well, he was the number one most surprising ninja.
He slowly took the mattress on his bed, and folded it up in a roll, the typical way to fold it when someone leaves their living space for a long period of time. It would fit.
He cleaned up what he could, so that not one speck was on the floor, not one dust on the counters or floor, everything spotless. Scrolls perfectly put away. food stocked, everything. It took the span of 10 minutes, with very little shuffling around the room. Naruto's movements were mechanical, no effort or laziness put into the actions. Mere movement, and nothing more. Not a fast pace, not a slow one.
After everything was fit for Naruto, he turned towards the picture that stood on the chest of drawers sitting next to his bed. The one of Team 7.
Naruto allowed a frown to mar his face, the first expression he let slip in months. It was strange to make this expression.
He walked over to it, and stared at it a moment with dark, blue eyes.
It was so meaningless. Insignificant. He never knew why he kept such a thing. To be a reminder of his suffering? Perhaps.
His hand moved, and he lay it facedown, the wood making a soft 'tick' sound as it was layed upon the hard surface. The blonde then turned away from it, and went towards his closet. He slipped out of his clothes, and hung them carefully in his closet. Standing nude, he moved towards his bathroom, and closed the door behind him. He stared at the tub before him for a moment, and then moved towards the handle of where the water would be turned on. He put it on cold. Not like he would feel it anyway.
As the water began filling the tub, he climbed in carefully and sat down. He sat with his upper body upright. He stared down at his pitiful reflection.
His tan was gone nearly, pale skin looking strange on his body. His eyes were dark, hollows under them, something that would look to be related to insomnia. His hair lost its shine, and hang loosely around his face.
So this is who he was...
The monster, the idiot moron, the one who held a meaningless life and was only there to carry the burdens of others.
He wondered if he was surprised that a smile was adorning his face.
It was a strange smile, one that he hadn't seen on his face in a long time.
One of triumph.
He stared a moment longer, the tub filling higher, nearly near the top, before he reached over to the blade that was sitting innocently in front of him on an elevated piece of wall to hold soaps and other sorts of bath products.
He pressed it against his wrist, watching how easily it formed a red line on the part where the edge was at, and how fast the red liquid came running down his arms. He watched in fascination, his blood something that caught interest in his eyes. He didn't even feel the pain it was supposed to bring.
He bled like everyone else. Did that mean something? That he bled like a normal human...did that make him human in some way too? Humans had things that were special to them. Friends, family, lives...
So, even though he bled like them, why did he still have nothing? Why did he still have nothing?!
He glared at the wound he made, as it started to heal, sealing up and closing over. No, no, no, no, no...
He cut again, watched as it turned red, and watched again as the skin closed over again, healed. No...
Again, the other wrist, deeper. Again, it healed. N-no...
His thoughts were becoming broken, his body began trembling frantically, hot tears were building up in his eyes. He cut deeper into himself, practically stabbing his hands now in his desperation to let his suffering end.
He was hoping he would let his death be his own earlier, confident that at least life would be able to give him that small bit of choice in his own pathetic, damned life. Why couldn't he have at least that much? Why did he have to be given so little?
The tears spilled over, as he continued puncturing himself in his wrists, shaking uncontrollably. Blood was accompanying the overflowing bathwater now. Water crept into corners as Naruto's sobs of frustration filled the room.
He moved on to other places.
He started slashing his chest in frantic strokes, moving the blade in uncoordinated directions. Tears flowed unstopped down his cheeks. The pain it was starting to cause was nothing compared to the unbearable aching in his heart, the only wanting was of it to end.
No matter the number of inflictions he gave himself, they always healed soon after.
He then aimed for his own heart, stabbing their all the way through.
He saw white behind his eyes, searing fire of pain coursing through himself. Naruto threw his head back at the force of the blow. He heard a noise in the background...it sounded like screaming. Why would any of his neighbors be screaming? He couldn't tell whether the voice belonged to him or not.
Naruto couldn't feel...he couldn't think, he couldn't see, he couldn't move, there was nothing except the blinding of everything, and the fire that seemed to spread on his body and wouldn't stop. He was only barely rational in his mind now, most of him was already gone. The only bit of sanity- or insanity- was to do it again.
Do it again before that damnation inside of him could do anything to contradict his wishes.
And so, with the lack of movements and comprehending that he possessed, he somehow moved his hand to pull the blade in his chest and quickly jabbed it back in. His eyes rolled into the back of his head. He moved the blade again, striking the muscle inside of him that kept him alive, and was the key to bringing him to his salvation. He jerked it again. And again. Over and over, in a seemingly endless pattern to him.
Things were turning white, things were turning black, the sound of running water fading, he couldn't hear it splash to the floor mixed with his blood. He felt a laugh escape him in his half-asleep world. How blissful...he couldn't see or hear anything. Not the stares, not the profanities, not the glares, those icy glares...
It was so euphoric, he felt so heavenly. He somehow saw a flash of red, and was reminded of is blood.
The landlord would probably be mad, having his tainted blood staining his floors...now no one would want to rent his apartment. Oh well...that was probably the most he would be remembered by anyway.
He allowed his eyes to close, glad to have discovered the one true happiness that he could ever imagine. Ever fucking hope for. He gave no thought to his teammates, to Kakashi, or Iruka, or Sasuke...none of them mattered. None of them would ever be able to give him this.
Before his world turned white and distant, his last thought was how his this birthday had been the best one. Nothing could hope to compare. He knew he was human then. He felt happy here, in the choice he made for his own death. He defeated the monster inside of him too, for he could now leave it behind.
The bathtub was no longer overflowing. Seemed like the landlord cut off his water supply.
He lay limp and lifeless in the flooded tub, filled to the brim with blood from his system.
In the city outside his room, cheers erupted as fireworks lit the sky, and October 10th was celebrated once again for the 16th year.
Happy Birthday, Naruto.
0o0o0o0o
No tears were shed over his death. It seemed that there were more cries of joy than anything.
He was given no proper grave, and no name to be remembered by. He was given as mere food to the crows, and the village watched as the black birds at his corpse.
Team 7 was there, as well as all Rookie 9 and Team Gai.
They watched indifferently, no emotion showing. There was none to be shown. They felt nothing, after all.
They were upset. Though they tried to convince themselves that it was because a good friend had died, it was for a much darker reason that maybe even they were unaware of.
Who would carry their burdens now?
The fox child is dead.
The crowd surrounding Naruto's body dispersed slowly, no longer wanting to look upon his pathetic dead form. Naruto's fellow companions soon left the scene too, bored with the display of crows using him as food. Only one remained to watch as his flesh was being consumed by the birds.
He stared with cold, hard obsidian eyes. There was no memory of fondness of the smiles and bright blue eyes. Did the dobe really think he was so stupid to believe the facade and lies he had shown him and the rest of the village?
Coal eyes hardened.
No one makes a fool of Uchiha Sasuke, not his brother, and definitely not some nobody who contained a ferocious monster with value. Kyuubi was the only real loss.
He turned away, and walked towards his home. His revenge on Naruto was done, though it seemed the idiot did it himself.
Oh well. What's done is done.
'Besides,' the Uchiha thought, ' I think I left the stove on.'
0o0o0o0o
A/N:Yeah, yeah...Suicide's not really my thing, I know. Don't flame on this, please. I warned you that it wouldn't be all that pretty. Constructive criticism is welcome, just don't say anything about the actual story, just writing relating things, and things I could have added to make it better, in the sense of making the writing more appealing, not the story.
Later.