I wrote this a while back, and kinda forgot about it for a while... But I was in a mood for lots of angst today (rurouni kenshin, what can I say), and I wanted to post something so here it is! It'll probably never grow beyond a one-shot so I figured why not xD Concrit will be appreciated! And also really sorry to those who follow THKHFOC, I haven't updated in so long! I'm working on it...
Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto, chapter 700 would never have happened. And since I'm giving credit where it's due, title of this fic is from the song 'King' by Lauren Aquilina, it's beautiful and breaks my heart every time T^T
Warnings: Angst. Lots of angst. Sort of pre-NaruSasu, but they're way too young as of yet so it's just friendship. Also, it's quite a lot of rambling, and quite possibly confusing. Hm.
Hope you enjoy!
Uzumaki Naruto has always known there's a little something off about himself. The odd flickers of heat, dancing on his fingertips and reverberating somewhere deep within him; the occasional whisper of flames - no, not just flames, the very land he stands on - that reach out to him and tell him things he would never otherwise know; the echoing of hundreds, thousands of chakra signatures all around him that somehow feel like his. His to protect, his to guide, his to lead; his.
He honestly doesn't hold it against the people of Konoha for fearing him for this strange power, even if he is surprised that they know of it. It's never overt or obvious, after all. It's never much more than a feeling, like bone-deep instinct ingrained in him.
He thinks he's a little afraid of it himself.
Some nights he lays awake underneath the stars on a rooftop somewhere and shoots off little sparks from his fingers, and watches, mesmerised. It's like a small display of fireworks, but he likes his own version a little more. It's his, and Naruto is eight and an orphan, with scarcely anything more than the clothes on his back and a miserably empty apartment, so he can't say there's much he can claim to be that.
But only he, and he alone, has this odd little power, so even if it interests him and frightens him about equal measures, he knows he will never let it go.
When he's dropped down one grade in the Academy again, to be placed with his year mates, he instantly picks out one of his classmates - a boy dressed in a blue shirt and white pants with the Uchiha symbol, an ugiwa, on his back. Special, is the feeling he gets from the dark-haired boy, he's different.
And so Naruto draws nearer to the Uchiha who smells of smoke, of fire - even more so than his clan mate, a girl decked out in similar clothes and the same ugiwa on her back - and cocks his head to the side, listening to the whispers that tell him: power; potential. Naruto is intrigued, because he has only ever gotten that vibe from older shinobi before, far more skilled, famed and feared; never off a child like him.
Friend? He rolls the word tentatively around in his mind, considering the foreign concept. The best of friends, or the worst of enemies, the wind carries to him, as the Uchiha studies his lesson notes with a small frown of concentration on his face.
Naruto is confused by this elusive, cryptic answer, and decides to focus on the reality before him. Friend, he decides. He'll make a friend. He just hopes he can.
Pattering up to the Uchiha with soft footsteps, Naruto sticks his hand in front of him as he's seen people do so many times, and says, "I'm Uzumaki Naruto. Can we be friends?"
The dark-haired boy turns away from his notes and blinks owlishly at the proffered limb. Eight-year-olds don't need a reason to become friends, so the Uchiha smiles innocently back at the blond and agrees readily, "Sure! I'm Uchiha Sasuke."
He reaches out to shake the outstretched hand, and a bubble of warmth pops in Naruto's chest, flooding his body with a very heady, very real sort of joy. He grins back at his first friend, bright as the sun.
The two become fast friends, even though one is the son of the Clan Head of one of Konoha's most illustrious clans, and the other is ignored, feared, hated; treated like the dirt beneath people's shoes or a beast just barely kept chained.
But prejudices mean nothing to eight-year-olds, if they hadn't been imparted by parents or other adults. The Uchiha are infallibly polite, don't gossip or even interact much outside of their own clan, and Naruto's selfishly glad for the ignorance this affords Sasuke about exactly where the yellow-haired boy falls in the general public's regard.
But one day, after a full two weeks' absence, filled with unsettled murmurings and half-baked rumours, the Uchiha boy enters the classroom and settles in his usual seat beside Naruto's like nothing has ever changed. His fellow clan member doesn't show up, enforcing the theories that the class of hyperactive ninja-wannabes have cooked up based on eavesdropped-on conversations, and the title 'the Last Uchiha' floats from one corner of the room to another. Sasuke doesn't stiffen or give any other indication that he's heard, simply staring straight ahead with eyes seeing something that is definitely not the faithfully ticking clock.
Naruto comes to class half an hour later, predictably late, and pauses with one foot over the threshold as Iruka blows up at him. He doesn't even notice the shouts directed at him ("-late! Again! Naruto, are you even listening? NARUTO!"); all of his attention is focused on his best - and only - friend.
"Sasuke?" He whispers, hauntingly and to no one in particular, though it does stop the chuunin-sensei in the middle of his tirade.
"What happened?" Naruto asks, and it's clear from the fear and shadows dancing in his eyes that he doesn't believe the lies the Academy teachers have fed them about the reason behind the two Uchiha students' absence. How can he possibly believe them, when his best friend has somehow completely changed?
Different, the wind carries to him now, He's amiss. Something's wrong.
Naruto clambers up to the Uchiha, ignoring the whole class staring at him, and he nearly cries at the familiar smell of smoke and fire, but this time mixed with the undeniable scent of ashes. Beneath it all, something about Sasuke fairly emits desperation and a pent-up whirlwind of emotions.
Pain - Naruto can see it in Sasuke's demeanor, can practically hear his soul pleading for someone help, please - pain and grief and guilt and soul-crushing terror, confusion, what-should-I-do-now-that-my-world's-been-shattered?
The blond-haired boy chokes on a sob and grabs Sasuke's right arm, dragging him out of the window next to them. Sasuke doesn't protest, Iruka doesn't stop them, and that's as much of an indication as he needs. They travel in silence for a while, Naruto trying in vain to calm himself down, but how can he, when the flames are crying out and his best friend is lost in the ashes of his world?
"Where are we going?" Sasuke asks quietly, and there's something very much like suppressed hope in his voice that makes it flat and uncaring and cold.
"You'll see," Naruto manages to say, unsure if he can voice more than two words without breaking down somehow.
A few minutes later they are standing atop the Hokage Monument, between the spikes of the Yondaime's hair, and Sasuke does see. Almost subconsciously, he lets out a small breath and comments, a little awed and a little flat, "It's pretty."
The blond cocks his head to the side slightly and says, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, "Surreal."
In some part of Sasuke's mind, he starts a little and questions how Naruto - perpetually trailing behind the rest of the class - knows a word as big as that. He only knows it because it was on one of his brother's scrolls (he nearly chokes at the thought of him) and he'd been a little brat trying ever so hard (and failing, always failing) to be as good as his big brother.
But a larger part of his mind avoids any thoughts even remotely related to him and he focuses on the fact that it's his first time seeing a wry smile tilting his best friend's lips. Naruto has always been cheerful, bright, if a little quiet and distracted from time to time. An expression as …sardonic as this doesn't fit on Naruto's face - or any eight-year-old's.
"When I'm standing up here, I can pretend I don't exist," the shorter boy admits, "I'm nothing, compared to this." Naruto gestures at the scenery before them, the village sprawling and prosperous, and Sasuke would like to think he understands. They're just two among the thousands, maybe tens of thousands of people in Konoha, and when he considers it like that, they really don't mean much at all.
But he doesn't say any of that aloud, just lets the unspoken understanding hang between them like the brittle but strong threads of their friendship. He wonders, a little idly and a little out of desperate need not to even think of his own situation, why Naruto would want to forget his very existence. What kind of life does he lead, that it'd require that?
With a startling jolt, Sasuke realises that his best friend has always been alone, if not at school or - occasionally - with him, wandering around on the streets. Does he have no family to return to? Or… does he have a compound as eerily quiet as the Uchiha one is, now?
Despite the million and one questions suddenly flooding Sasuke's mind, coming with the realisation that he barely even knows his best friend's personal life at all, he asks, "Do you like to come up here?"
The moment the question pops out of his mouth he figures that the answer is obvious enough that he doesn't know why he'd bothered - maybe just for something to say. He's not quite used to silence, even after over a week in an empty, echoing compound, and he doesn't want to get used to it. He doesn't want to accept it just yet.
Naruto nods, a small and somehow genuine smile on his face as he looks out at the rows of houses, some tidy and others arranged haphazardly, at the little people hurrying along the streets, no bigger than ants. "Yeah," he replies at length, "I come here a lot. I wanted to show it to you because you just looked…" He trails off a little helplessly, before shrugging and continuing, "…like you needed it."
The dark-haired boy suddenly feels oddly touched; if anyone else had done this for him in the past weeks he would have known that it was just pity and he would have hated it - the Uchiha pride would never allow him to accept pity - but coming from Naruto it somehow doesn't feel like it. They're friends, and… this is what friends do.
Quite abruptly, Naruto says almost nonchalantly, in a way that suggests only a little of the weight on his shoulders and the ghosts at his back, "Konoha is afraid of me."
There's a part of Sasuke that wants to scoff, a part of him that wants nothing more than to drown in the blood of his clan and lose himself to this worthless world, and ask 'what's there to be afraid of about a skinny brat like you?' But he doesn't, because Naruto is his friend and that's all he has left - a friend and a brother he used to love.
"I have this strange power, you see," the blond whispers, and it's somehow directed at not only Sasuke, but also at the wind hissing in their ears and the trees and the village spread beneath their feet. "I don't understand it, and sometimes I'm a little afraid of it as well." His smile is wry as he snaps his fingers and small, orange flames burst into life on his fingertips.
If Sasuke hadn't felt like half his soul had been pulled from his body, if he hadn't felt so lifeless and dead, he might have gaped, wide-eyed and awed like when Itachi used to show him kunai-throwing techniques, but as it is he just feels intrigued and leans in a little for a closer look, the only indication of his interest. This… this isn't a Katon, or at least not one in the Uchiha library, and his family's collection is positively huge. Naruto sends the flames dancing from thumb to pinky, index to ring, and Sasuke finds that he is very well capable of being jealous. If he had this level of skill, this control and precision, his father might have finally told him 'I'm proud of-'
Sasuke promptly shuts down that entire train of thought, and focuses his gaze on Naruto's watery blue one. "What is it?" He asks softly, feeling inexplicably glad that the other boy has chosen to trust him with this strange secret.
"I don't know," Naruto repeats, lips pulling down at the corners even as he shoots the tiny flames upwards to leap over their heads, eyes mindlessly following the blazing trails of light the bright sparks leave behind, flaring and fading. "I wish I could-" the blond starts in a muted murmur, breath hitching halfway, "-just understand why they hate me so much."
"Who?" Sasuke prompts gently, eight-year-old curiosity and, somewhere buried in the confusing mess that is his emotions, concern for his first and only real friend winning out against the clamouring demand for powerpowerpower youareanavengernowSasuke.
The other boy laughs, seven parts bitter and three parts sad. "The whole goddamned village, Sasuke," he says, voice unnaturally thick and emotional, "They glare and call me demon and freak and they throw me out of shops, and they don't ever lemme play with the other kids or even talk to anyone, and my whole goddamned apartment building is empty because I live there!" He laughs again, hysterical this time, and suddenly offers, "You could even move in, if you want. No one ever collects the rent, though when they get drunk they smash my windows with bricks so, y'know, maybe not."
Then he falls silent and stares at his hands, and Sasuke wonders if he is thinking about the strange power he has, just like Sasuke is. Naruto looks lost then, cerulean eyes dazed and face frozen, and for that moment it's nice for Sasuke to have someone else's pain to latch on to, anything to distract himself from the whirling vortex of his own mind. The thought that Naruto had told him all this explicitly for that reason occurs to him suddenly, and he feels a surge of gratefulness. But he's an Uchiha, still, and though he wants to he doesn't know how exactly to comfort people. (memories of two-fingered pokes to the forehead and a promise of 'later, Sasuke'-)
So he traces the lines on his palms and the calluses that have already begun forming, and gives Naruto something to latch on to as well. "My brother killed my clan." He stops, because he doesn't think there's much more to say to that, and he waits for the reaction that is sure to come. Every single person who had visited him in the hospital had some words to offer - don't worry, Sasuke-kun; you won't turn out like your brother, Sasuke-kun; stay strong, Sasuke-kun; Konoha will take care of you, Sasuke-kun - but none of them had really understood the way he likes to think that maybe Naruto can.
Naruto stops fidgeting, and though he doesn't move to face Sasuke or even glance at him, the dark-haired boy can tell Naruto's listening to him, really listening, and somehow that's all it takes for the words to pour from his mouth. He tells him of the older brother he'd loved with all his heart, who had turned around abruptly one day and murdered his entire family and then made him watch. Who had killed his best friend for power and the whole clan as a test. Who had spared Sasuke only because he is so pathetically weak that he isn't even worth the effort.
He says I hate him so, so much and means it, from the bottom of his heart, but Naruto asks he's still your brother after all that, isn't he? He answers honestly: yes, and means it. He's still my brother, and I love him so, so much.
Then he collapses in on himself and laughs as tears stream down his cheeks, and he doesn't - can't - stop even after he's lost all his breath and he's caught somewhere between choking and suffocating. He's never felt so ice-cold, lost in himself and slowly drowning in his own life fluid, and he can't even muster the energy, the hope to clutch at a lifeline. He just wants to go under, to forget all of this and more, let the exhaustion seep into his bones and just… let go.
He knows that'll just be proving Itachi right, that it's something only the weak will do, but for once in his life he doesn't want to care anymore. So what if he'll never catch up to Itachi? So goddamned what if he doesn't ever kill his brother and avenge his clan? He'll go to Hell, perhaps, but so what, when living on Earth feels the same anyway?
But suddenly Naruto's there, thin but warm arms wrapped tightly around him and a weight on his shoulder (and if there's something wet like tears seeping through the cloth of his clan shirt - well, he oddly doesn't mind that someone's crying with him, because maybe then he wouldn't feel so weak, or even that there's someone crying for him, because for so long he hadn't been able to cry for himself).
And it should be uncomfortable and unnatural because no one else had ever comforted him like that - his family is -was- never inclined to show any affection, especially in physical ways, and Sasuke had never thought that he'd want anything more but this-
This is …reassuring. Not nice, exactly, still twisted and strange and wrong because he isn't sure his world can ever right itself again, but there's someone to hold onto, something to ground him to light and stars and flames, and not the shadows of an older brother and the ashes of what used to be home.
I don't know what it's like to lose a family, Naruto says, and he laughs, but it's all bitter, like crumbling earth and coarse sand, but I know what it's like to be alone. The loneliness in his voice is blatant for all the world to hear, and it makes Sasuke think of the still, empty depths of a pond, undisturbed for ages, or the desolate whisper of wind through the bare branches of an abandoned forest.
I promise, Sasuke, you'll never, ever be alone, Naruto says, and the Uchiha doesn't doubt a single word of it, even for a second. I'll always be by your side, no matter how hard you try to get rid of me. Because when Naruto lifts his head and meets his gaze, there's something untouchable in his voice and his eyes burn, burn with raging strength and determination and fire, and maybe-
-maybe there's something in him that reacts to that call, crackling up like too much electricity charged, because otherwise Sasuke would never have struggled past the avenger already settling deep in his mind and said, with his first genuine smile in two weeks, thank you. Because it's not just gratitude, it's an oath and a promise and a sworn, unbreakable friendship, and maybe one day it won't be enough, maybe someday he'll be too big for little promises like that to matter, but-
But that's someday, and for now, just for this second frozen in time, it's all he needs and all he wants - a friend who really, truly understands - and so he slides his eyes shut and clutches on a little tighter. And for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels a suffocating pressure lift from his chest, like fresh leaves and spring rain and he can finally breathe.
He takes in a deep, gulping breath, and dares to hope that maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay again, with someone by his side.
Someday.
A/N: Just to clear a few things up, the villagers don't actually know about Naruto's power, they're just afraid of him because he's a jinchuuriki. But Naruto doesn't know about the Kyuubi, so he thinks it's because of his power... Does that make as much sense as I hope it does?
And the power itself isn't really elaborated on here, because, y'know, it's a one-shot and all. It's something like nature (the five elements - Fire, Water, Earth, Lightning, Wind) lending its power to Naruto, but mostly Fire 'cause Konoha is part of Fire country. Yup. Inspired by Kaze no Uzu (written by A238), which really deserves more readers than it currently has. So check it out, won't'cha? XD