Whoa. Okay, it's been awhile and I accidentally replaced the story with something else but HERE IT IS ALL NEW AND SHINY not really but whatever.
Currently writing a Ereri one shot, and MBK is writing on her account, rezzkat, at the moment.
Enjoy.
Oh, rated T for character death, self harm and blood. I, MBL, do not support these ideas, and in no way encourage suicide as an answer.
It had taken him awhile to figure out what he was going to do and how he was going to go. He had thought about the pills, the hanging rope from his ceiling fan. None seemed big enough for him. He was Uzumaki Naruto, after all; Konoha's best prankster and a decent ninja. He was once, seemingly, Konoha's future Hokage, the kid who defied everything for attention. The kid who loved ramen noodles, but was shunned by his peers as though infected. The outsider, the pitiful orphan ninja who promised to build himself up, a kid. He didn't deserve everything that had happened to him in his short life. No parents, no godparents and no family.
Sure, he had Sakura, Sasuke and Kakashi; but they were unsteady and unreliable. Ever since Sasuke left the Leaf, Kakashi neglected Naruto and Sakura lied about being in love with him… God, he hated her. Sure, he saved her from Sasuke, and he was kind to her, but Naruto hated Sakura Haruno. She played with his heart, and he was always second place. Sasuke was almost as bad, if not worse, than Sakura. He had abandoned his team, their village. He had abandoned Naruto, and why that angered him, he wasn't quite sure. Whenever he thought of them, together as a team, negative energy surrounded the blonde and made his chakra amounts deflate.
Pushing the thoughts of the former Team 7 away, Naruto noticed how tired he felt. Was this because his life would be ending soon, by his own hands? That his eyes would never again open and he'd be stuck in an eternal nap? He shook his head and walked over to the yellowing mirror of his small apartment. His hair was still blonde and spiky, his forehead protector was near the center of his head and his eyes were still a deep, pooling blue. They held, though, the sadness of a widowed old man, alone and frail. Purple bags from sleepless nights seemed to be tattooed onto his skin, which was an unhealthy pale yellow. He looked sick; he looked like a rotting corpse. He looked awful. He, Naruto Uzumaki, wanted to die.
He had decided, while looking at the mirror, that he would out himself. Leave the world with a physical reminder of its cruelty. Cliché? Possibly, but Naruto would go out with a bang and this; this was an explosion. He walked with slight tremors going through his body, fear tingling down his spine. He walked into the bathroom and fumbled around for the drawer and pulling out a razor blade. He inspected it. The razor was about two inches long, and he guessed about an inch and half wide. The metallic silver seemed to shine in the dim light of the bathroom, and looked eerily intricate. Something that seemed so easy to use and simple was now a murder weapon, a delicate handle-with-care object, a time bomb. Sharp, painful and powerful.
He walked back over to the mirror. Terror gripped his bones, a cold sweat breaking out on his neck. It was just adrenaline, he told himself. He wanted this, he needed this. Turning the blade on an angle, he placed the tip on the outside of the palm of his left hand. Digging the blade into his hand a bit, he made a small scratch. The sharp sting he felt slowly subsided, and Naruto wore a grim smile. Not wanting to waste his time, he set to work on his goal that would probably kill him. Slowly, getting a feel for the blade, he began carving an S, then an A then another S until the name Sasuke was jaggedly carved into his arm, bleeding profusely. Cliché? Absolutely.
He had gone against the idea of writing Sakura's name into his arm. She had caused him pain, yes, but not enough to scare himself. No, if anyone was to be left on him, it had to be Sasuke Uchiha. His name was right about Naruto's main artery, as if the blue line was underlining the name. With that blue vein now a dark purple, and his arm still leaking blood, Naruto looked back to the mirror.
His arm was stinging and his body was shaking. He looked less yellow now and more pale, like a dying child. That's what he was. He knew he couldn't die just yet. Taking the razor, shiny and dripping red, he began to draw sharp lines on his skin. The blood rose and bubbled to the surface. Sakura, Sasuke, maybe Kakashi. They caused this, this plan of his. They had all left him, he was alone. He was alone. That thought drove him to do the final act of his self-torture, the step that could never be undone. The blue vein, the one that underlined Sasuke's name, seemed to pulse with the knowledge that it too would be harmed. Sakura had told him that if the vein was cut open, too much blood would be lost and there would be no hope. The victim would die.
The vein continued to pulse, to throb. It was driving him crazy, it was making him insane. He raised his hand above his head, making a swinging motion as the blade got closer and closer; ready to kill him. Naruto closed his eyes, waiting for the immense pain and- Just as the blade was about to reach his skin, it didn't. Naruto opened his eyes, shuddering with the unused adrenaline and fear. The blade was suspended above his hand, shaking like a leaf, as droplets of blood slipped from the metal and onto his skin. Was he really ready for this? He clenched his jaw as he felt tears prick his eyes and slip down his cheeks. There was no other option, really. This was the end, he knew it now. Before he could go back on his decision, he struck the razor down, digging it into his arm. He had no idea he was able to feel such pain as he dragged the blade down his arm, blood falling everywhere. So much blood, blood that was falling, staining, dying. He screamed a loud, agonizing scream. The type of scream that would chill your bones.
He didn't have much time; he felt dizzy as he looked at himself one last time, blood splattered on the carpet and his clothing. A haze seemed to take his vision, everything dark beige. He thought he saw his parents and Jiraiya. A mass of people, some silhouettes and others more clear, all surrounding him in a circle. He felt himself rush forward, only to trip and fall.
He saw his mother reaching over to help him, his father standing not far away, smiling at him. "Are you coming?" He thought he heard his father ask. "Oh yeah, Dattebayo!" His voice was raspy, excited, awed. When he stepped up to meet them, something inside him shattered, and his vision went black. Then, as he lay in a pool of blood on the ground, his heart ceased beating.
Naruto Uzumaki was dead.
Okay, really rushed ending. Oh well.
Review if you want, or just keep a lookout for my next story.
Have a wonderful day!
MBL