A/N: Okay, so I'm not really supposed to be starting another story. I still have two in progress, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't find any Naruto reincarnation fics that caught my interest, and my solution to that was try writing one myself. I dunno if people will review and like it or not, but it's worth a shot. If people don't like it, I'll stop until I finish one of my other two. If people do...I dunno. I'm thinking there are a few too many ones like these out there to be taken seriously...

Well, now that that ramble is out of the way, there's a couple things I want to point out. If it's confusing, ask questions and I'll answer later. If you get disgusted out by Naru-chan's apartement, it's supposed to be bone-chillingly nightmare-ish to those who are on the obsessive compulsive side. Third, I must warn you that this just MIGHT turn out to be a SasuNaru if I have any pairings at all. I can't help it if I'm a shounen-ai fan, and they just...work together. So, if you are homophobic, be warned. It's not SasuNaru yet, but there is the potential!

Hm. I do believe that is it, except the disclaimer. Here it is then: I own nothing about the characters, places or things (and ideas!) from Naruto. That belongs to its rightful owner!

So, without further ado, I present my hand at trying a Naruto fic. Please give it back when you're done!

Edit Note: This IS a SasuNaru, as of the second chapter.

He was so cold. So alone. He shivered in a non-existant breeze, clutching his arms to his chest. A black abyss surrounded him, suffocating him. It pressed at his very soul, consuming him in an ever-existing night. It told him that he was ever a part of him. He would belong to the darkness for all eternity, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to stop it. He was powerless against the night, forever trapped within his own nightmare-ish memories.

The scene abruptly changed. From the darkness below him spred out to show a small village. A proud village, with each building different from the last. The stone pavement that ran from house to house, speeding in between buildings and winding through parks all across this small place was already polished with wear and weather. Grass grew in the cracks of each cobblestone. Plants lined themselves up in little gardens behind small fences that closed front yards away from curious animals and children. Rolling hills spanned out from the village, encompassing the black abyss and chasing away the night. Mountain ranges stretched out from the ground, reaching towards the neverending blue sky above him. On one such range just outside the village, familiar faces with long-since-forgotten names molded themselves into the granite rock.

People began to appear. Men, women, and children of all ages scuttled about as life was breathed into the scene. Adults bargained with each other for food and other necessities. Children ran around, getting into everything as elders watched over them and scolded those creating mischeif. Birds and other woodland creatures called from the forest springing up from outside the village, creating backround music for the cacophany of voices shouting about to make themselves heard.

In the shadows of a large, old cherry tree a young face peered onto the scene. A spectator like him, the young boy watched people fly by as the sun moved past the horizon. A wood-and-rope swing was pushed forward as a breeze swept past the tree. The shadows began to darken as night began to settle onto the scene, causing the villagers to mill about, lighting torches to keep the darkness at bay.

The young boy moved out of his hiding place, and he got his first glimpse. A young boy that stuck a chord somewhere deep in his heart, so familiar that he wanted to cry. Blonde hair swayed with the breeze, ruffled and unkempt. His stark blue eyes stood out against his tanned skin, making him more different than the other children that possessed dark hair and even darker eyes. Loneliness sang from those innocent eyes, watching the children laughing and playing with each other. As one child began to creep too near him, the child's parents quickly pulled him away from the blonde-haired boy.

Sadness consumed the boy. All at once he could hear the young child's thoughts. 'They only think of me as a monster. I am a monster. I don't belong here, and I never will.' He wanted to rush up to the boy, reassure him that everything would be alright. 'Everyone hates me.' He wanted to tell the blue-eyed youth that yes, people did love him. That he would find happiness if he could just hang on a little longer.

Just as he was about to reach out, the scene changed again. Darkness flooded back, blocking out all color and life that had once filled his vision. All emotion was drained from him, barring fear, pain and lonliness. He was alone again, drifting once more in a sea of black. He didn't know what to expect, and what happened next came as somewhat of a shock.

He saw a person floating there. An older version of the same boy he had seen just moments before. His fine-toned body was taller and more lean than the young lad, and he had filled out more. He still had the unkempt blonde hair, held out of his face by a black-colored bandana with a peice of silver plating on the middle. The plate was carved with a sort of leaf symbol, a symbol that spoke volumes to him in a language he couldn't understand. He wore the same orange jumpsuit he had possessed for a very long time, and how he knew that, he didn't know. Whisker marks across his cheek made the old face look younger somehow. His blue eyes, that had been filled with longing as the young boy looked upon the playing children, were filled with fear and pain.

As he watched, distraught at the scene unraveling before him, he saw the man (for he was no child, to say the least) get struck down by a giant weapon. It looked like one of the ninja throwing stars he had seen once at a pawn shop, except much larger. It struck him dead in the back, and from the surprise in his eyes, he wasn't expecting that. The man fell forward onto his hands and knees, coughing blood up to pool below him on the shadowed plane. They both looked up simutaniously, and saw a man striding forward.

He looked almost exactly like the other villagers. Black hair and black eyes that coldly calculated his oponnent. Pale skin made the man look like one of the undead. His outfit, that of a jounin ninja from Konoha village (how he knew this, again, he didn't know) blended halfway into the darkness. As both of them watched, his eyes changed to blazing red. Little swirls appeared and his entire demeaner changed to that of rage. There was no sanity in those eyes. They had lost all appearence of humanity long before this moment.

The blonde man shivered. He coughed again, blood pouring from both his wound and from the corner of his mouth. He spoke, softly and disbelieving. "Sasuke-kun...why?" His eyes pleaded with the other man, Sasuke, to tell him the truth. Why had he done this? Why this betrayal?

Sasuke leered down at him, reaching into a side pocket to pull out a sort of knife. "Usuratonkachi," his icy voice purred, "did you really think I would stay with you? That you and I could really belong?" Without notice, he leapt forward and stabbed the man in the chest. The man gasped and fell forward, into Sasuke's waiting arms. "You were never meant to be...Naruto."

------

"Sasuke!"

He sat up quickly, panting with fright. Sweat glistened over his entire body, brought from the adrenaline that was just now retreating from his bloodstream. His arms were shaking as he propped himself up, the sheets strewn about him proving that he had been shifting around in his sleep. A wierd taste filled his mouth, and he reached up one of his clammy hands to his lips. Pulling away, he noticed his fingertips came back wet. He must've bitten his lip while sleeping, then.

Glancing over at his clock, he knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again. Once Hamasaki Naruto was awake in the morning, he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again until that night. Even if it was five-in-the-bloody morning. Instead, he threw the blankets off of himself and stood. Walking to he bathroom just a few steps beyond his bed (and stubbing his toe on a few things lying on the floor), he decided that if he was awake, he might as well be getting ready for school.

He entered the bathroom, after walking into the wall, and flipped the switch. A warm glow filled his sea-green-colored bathroom, greeting him with jade ivys near the ceiling and brown tiles decorating the showering area. Naruto reminded himself that he needed to re-paint this area. He really didn't like waking up to so much green. He'd much prefer it to match his towels.

Speaking of, he thought, where did I put them? He turned a little and noticed a small peice of material sticking out from behind the door. Moving the giant plank of wood, he picked up his neon-orange, very fluffy towel and slammed the door. He slung the orange monstrosity on the brown towel rack (who in their right mind makes a bathroom brown he wondered briefly) and began to strip.

He stepped into the shower moments later, pulling his equally-bright orange shower curtain shut. Spinning the dial towards cold, he turned the shower on."Holy shit, that's cold!" he squealed, shivering. At least he was awake now. Deciding he'd rather not catch a cold this early in the season, he quickly ran through his shower routine.

Ten minutes later, he was roughly towel-drying his dirty-blonde hair with a second orange towel, the first wrapped around his waist. He felt much better now that he had gotten that dream-sweat off of him. The dream was still on his mind, but he forcefully pushed it aside. There really wasn't any time to dwell, if he wanted to get to school soon. He didn't think that being late for his first -official, mind- day of school.

At least he didn't have to make sure he had something somewhat-clean and half-decent to wear. No, he just had to throw on his new (and clean!) black school uniform and make breakfast before he would be able to run out the door and make his way to school. Hunting down the uniform, though...that would be the hard part.

"Now, where did I put it?" he wondered as he surveyed the battlefield that was his room. Deciding to start somewhere, he waded through the Sea of Used Ramen Cups That He Hadn't Bothered To Put Away, braved the Desert of Movies And Music Collections That He Hadn't Bothered To Pick Up, and finally made his way to the Clothing Mountain Range of Garments He Hadn't Bothered To Wash. Moving about the range, he dug into the piles to pull out various peices of clothing, nothing of which was his elusive uniform. Getting frustrated, he threw the towel he had been using to dry his hair to the side. Kneeling, he began to dismantle the range without regard to the various...things that had decided to lodge there.

After a further amount of time, he pulled out a black pair of slacks and black overshirt. Shaking his head, he snagged a pair of boxers from the decimated mountain and began to dress. It took mere minutes to figure out how to button all of the clasps and close all the zippers that held the ensemble together.

Finally, his stomach protesting loudly, he was able to exit his bedroom and walk the short hall to his pitiful kitchen. If anything, it was worse than the World of His Bedroom. He grimaced and kept his mind off of the mold and slime that covered most of the surfaces. One of these days he was going to have to clean his entire apartment, he decided reluctantly. Shrugging it off, he made his way to the refridgerator (skirting a pile of muck the he swore snarled at him) and opened it to an awful smell.

"Ugh, what died in here?" he mused. "Ah, a rat." He picked up the poor creature, who had obviously been poisoned by something rotten, and tossed it behind him. "Oh well, I guess that means I should watch what I decide to eat." He put a thoughtful look on his face, deciding that he would eat the leftover pork ramen from the night before, and took out a small paper bag.

Dancing his way back across the kitchen, he turned to the living room. More of a study, it held his school stuff and the one and only computer he had ever owned. Truly a piece of junk, but Naruto didn't have the money nor the means to get a better one. Considering most of his schoolwork had online pieces attatched, he had to put up with it.

Pulling the desk chair out with a foot, he sat down. The chair groaned under his wieght and he shook his head. Most of the stuff in his apartment had either failed, broken, or was on the brink of kicking the can. Naruto just added a new chair to the list of things he needed to fix, buy, or duct-tape together.

Stomach growling again, he ignored all else and pulled out a small take-out bowl of ramen. He would have to eat it cold (his microwave had decided to explode the night before), but didn't complain. Grabbing a pair of chopsticks, he tossed the bag onto the floor and dug into breakfast.

He finished his meal forty-five minutes later, sighing with contentment. Nothing got rid of a bad dream like ramen. Nothing at all. He turned his head to glance at the clock on the wall...

And cursed. "I'm going to be late, I can't believe it's already quarter to seven!" he told the front door as he pulled on his shoes. "Why didn't someone tell me I was running late?" Getting no answer did nothing for the way he felt. Making sure he had his keys, he scooped up a bag sitting by the doorway and rushed out the door.

It slammed behind him, and Naruto could hear people complaining about the noise. He didn't let anything distract him as he sped down the fifteen flights of stairs to the entrance of the building, propelling out of the enrtyway as if he were shot out of a canon. He dodged people, cars and other obsticles as he ran down the now-familiar path to school.

He just hoped his luck didn't get worse than it already was.

End Chapter
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