Why Do You Keep Counting?

by glassbaubles

SaiNaru. He tried to tell himself that it had nothing to do with those dreams he sometimes had, those nightmares full of screaming and cold darkness and angry red, so hot that made him feel as if he were burning alive even as he drowned in inky black.

Requested by: Cel
Request: SaiNaru, death fic
Prompt: September 16: Why do you keep counting? (from the 31days comm. in LJ)
Warnings: Shonen-ai, character death, unexplained timeline and plot holes (whooooo! 8D)

Summary: Naruto doesn't understand why everyone looks so sad when they come to visit him.

Notes: This is a fic requested by Cel back when I wanted to write something dark-ish. Well, I finally got around to writing it, though I'm not sure if this is exactly what I had in mind when I first decided to take it up.

Anyway, the style is rather experimental for me. Hope it turns out well. .

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Naruto didn't understand why everyone always seemed so sad when they came to visit him in his room over at the hospital. At first, he thought that maybe it was because of the incident that had landed him in this room permanently, with ANBU guards assigned to watch him everyday – orders from the council, those old bastards, honestly, I wish they'd just all drop dead and make my job and life easier for me!, Tsunade-'baa-san had explained once.

(The incident in question had been one where he'd burned up his chakra pathways horribly and irreversibly while on a mission against some Iwa-nin. For one reason or another, he'd lost his temper horribly in that fight, so much so that he'd called upon Kyuubi's power, more power than he could handle safely, accelerated healing or not. He hadn't cared about that then, though. All he knew was that he'd ripped all the Iwa-nin in the vicinity, all of them jounins, to shreds in a matter of minutes, and that there was a lot of blood, and oh GOD, why was he crying again, he just didn't understand, why did it hurt so god damned much?! He remembered feeling the need to tear his enemies apart, to rip and slash and burn and do anything to make them suffer, but he never remembered why, only felt pain, and loss and anguish that never really healed, never really went away no matter how hard he'd tried afterward, and no one would enlighten him about it or even look him in the eye whenever it was mentioned, no one except Iruka-sensei, and he'd always looked so heartbroken for some reason those first few times the blond had attempted to broach the subject that Naruto quickly learned not to.)

However, while most of the people around him seemed uncomfortable with talking about that, Naruto eventually came to the conclusion that his first theory was wrong, and so it was quickly scrapped and eventually replaced. Over and over again. Eventually, he grew tired of this, and began to suggest theories for anything and everything under the sun. He figured that if he was going to die out of boredom – especially since everyone refused to so much as let him out of he room, much less let him train or go out on missions – then he might as well drive everyone else crazy while he was at it.

He got to the point where he suggested a new theory for whatever it was that popped into his head that particular moment everyday, each one more absurd than the last. It soon became a kind of a routine. Everyday, when one of his friends came to visit – and some one always did – he would prompt bombard whoever it was with his latest crazy idea, which was usually enough to wrangle a smile or a laugh from his visitor. These moments of lightheartedness never did last long though. They usually died the moment the other half of Naruto's routine commenced: As soon as his theory was out of the way, the blond would loudly demand to know what day it was and fuss and complain until his friend went over to the large, orange-dominated calendar with the ramen theme – a gift from old man Ichiraku and his daughter, they sent one every year he spent in the hospital – that nicely covered up a space of the plain, white wall and marked off one more day, adding yet another black ink "X" mark on the white paper with orange borders. (Naruto always, always insisted they use black ink for this little ritual of his, black ink and traditional brushes. It was just another of his odd, unexplainable new quirks, he supposed, one that he'd gained along with a slew of others after the fight with the Iwa-nin.) His visitor, no matter who it was save a few people, would always seem so reluctant to do this, but would always comply with his wishes in the end.

Naruto himself wasn't even sure why exactly he did this. Maybe it was indeed the hit to the head he'd taken in the incident, as Kakashi-sensei had teased him good-naturedly one day, though as always these days, there was a hint of sorrow beneath the playful tone, yet another thing the blond didn't get but didn't ask about – after all, his sensei was always confusing. Naruto had pondered about this day and night during a certain period of time, brow furrowed and face screwed up in concentration, until Shikamaru had apparently grown tired of his fussing and simply told him one day, "You're waiting. That's why you keep counting the days like the troublesome idiot that you are," and left it at that.

Something in Naruto's chest had eased a little at those words, and he realized with a start that the lazy chuunin was right. He was indeed waiting for something, though he couldn't rightly tell just what he was waiting for. That didn't bother him though. Brash though he still was, he'd learned some akin to patience all these years cooped up in the hospital, and he was content enough to know that there was indeed a reason, no matter how sketchy it was, behind his insanity to bother trying to figure it out more – all he'd get for his trouble would be more headaches, he knew, so he never thought much about it.

(He tried to tell himself that it had nothing to do with those dreams he sometimes had, those nightmares full of screaming -NarutolookoutNO!-, and tears -SAISaiwakeuppleaseohGodpleasewakeupWHERETHEHELLISTHATMEDICSAKURA-CHAN?!-. and cold darkness -youkilledSaiyoukilledhimkilledhimkilledhim-, and angry red, so hot that made him feel as if he were burning alive -youbastardsYOUABSOLUTEFUCKINGBASTARDS!- even as he drowned in inky black as vast as the night sky and as beautiful as his dead lover's eyes, over and over again in his sleep, unconsciously counting the days until he could be with Sai again.)

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Note:
Er. Yeah. -shifty eyes- I have no excuse for the angst. And for the fact that Naru apparently doesn't remember about what happened to Sai. -coughs- Well, maybe I do have some excuses for that last one, but they'll have to wait.

Anyway, drop me a line and prove you love me :3

Any comments/suggestions will be received with love, especially any and all concrit. 3