Running Blind
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Author's Notes: A terribly morbid piece, but this makes demented sense to me. It's been so long since I've been struck with inspiration that I was determined to write it. I inserted Jabberwocky as the mini-introduction because I think its nonsense logic complements the mood of this story well. If you've never read the entire poem before, I highly suggest you do. Constructive criticism is, as always, of invaluable assistance.
'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
Meet me in the forest.
The crisp whiteness of the paper slips between his fingers like water through a crack. It feels heavy, somehow; the desperate flutter that carries it to the ground is weighted with another kind of gravity altogether. Before he can even register his own thoughts, his feet have already taken him over three rooftops and halfway out of the village. He doesn't stop to question the note's authenticity; there was simply something about the childish scrawl of Naruto's handwriting that suggested a moment of magnitude, one that he was certain he couldn't afford to miss. He doesn't question why Naruto would ask him to break his boundary restrictions; he doesn't even consider that it could be a trap. The weapons holster that he has just been allowed to wear once again threatens to fall loose and he tightens the straps with a sharp jerk, not at all registering his own actions.
Only after his bangs are dripping with water and plaster onto his face does he notice the rain, the steady rhythm that is a melodic chaos. When his mind pinpoints this fact he can feel a stray droplet winding its way down his spine and shivers. Subtle subterfuge. The brilliant hue of dusk is camouflaged by grey, and his vision is stained with mist. He is curious and calm and annoyed; numb and jittery and severely afraid. He doesn't understand why his heart is racing so fast. It's only Naruto; Naruto and his foolish games.
Beyond the wall. The muscles tense and he is over it in one graceful leap. The treetops seep to become branches and trunks and they surround him as he continues to move at lightning speed, feeling the acid build within his body. The rivulets of water oppose him as he pushes uphill and the beat of the droplets massage his skin. Involuntarily he remembers a night when the sky was a similar shade, trapped with Naruto in a mission gone sour and the thoughts in his own head.
-
"Why don't you ever listen?" Naruto's voice is a hiss that Sasuke can't help but equate with Orochimaru.
Sasuke doesn't deign to reply; only leans his head back to rest against the rough texture of the cave and close his eyes.
"Listen to me, damn it!" He feels Naruto's warm breath on the side of his neck and opens his eyes to drown in two oceans. But water has never frightened him; blue cannot suppress his spirit. It is blood he chokes on, red that devours him.
"What do you want from me, Naruto?"
"You're not looking at me at all, are you?" They were inches apart, eyes locked in something unbreakable. Suddenly Naruto laughs. "God, you've never been looking!"
The sound reverberates off the stone walls and dissipates into silence. "Why is he worth so much to you?"
Sasuke knows that he will regret talking about it later, but the night's atmosphere coaxes him into many things he would rather forget. "He's my past. He's the only future I've ever known."
Naruto mutters something he doesn't hear, and the night continues on in silence.
-
Why he recalls such a trivial event so many years later does not register in his brain. The phantom voices melt away as he approaches the clearing, where he knows Naruto is waiting. An instinct within him prickles the back of his neck almost painfully and he bites down on his lower lip to pull himself together. It's as if the fog of the night has bled its way into his thoughts and his movements become sluggish due to its weight. Finally he sees the familiar outline of Naruto emerge from the darkness, but it only serves to increase his apprehension as he sees the faint tint of the Kyuubi's chakra fade away.
"Naruto…" the sound scratches its way out of his throat and rips the air around them. Cerulean eyes flicker onto his for only a moment before they look away; but it is Naruto's silence that alarms him the most. He takes a step forward, then another, and feels the dread threaten to overwhelm him.
The blood in his veins freezes when he sees the corner of an all-too-familiar cloak.
His body unlocks itself from its cage and he is springing forward to where the body lay, a heap of blood and broken angles that constitute a form. He does not believe his own eyes and hears himself let out a laugh that morphs into more of a whimper. When he turns the body over he is paralyzed; for he is staring into the depths of cruel red eyes that no longer make him relive his worst memory. They are perfect and they are lifeless. When he touches the soft skin of the eyelid he finds it perfectly cold. It is only Naruto's movement that draws him back to the living world, and he levels his eyes on the peace that Naruto is offering in the extension of his hand. When his fingers roll open to reveal an open palm, Itachi's Akatsuki ring is nestled harmlessly between the mounded flesh.
His anger is like the breaking of a dam.
"YOU HAD NO RIGHT!" He aims a punch at Naruto's head and sends the blond spiralling into the nearest tree. Naruto merely gets to his feet and smiles at him gently, which is more than he is able to bear. His fists strike over and over, everywhere, anywhere, as quick and hard as he physically can. Naruto doesn't bother to block his tirade, merely wears a faint smile while Sasuke torments his body, ingrains his fury with Naruto's blood. The patches of red encourage him further and he is beyond the realm of recall, striking blindly as tears cloud his vision. When he cracks some ribs, Naruto spits out blood and a wheeze that is more amused than it should be.
Naruto killed Itachi. Naruto robbed me of the chance to kill Itachi. Naruto is stronger than me. If he's stronger than me, then I can never kill Itachi. I can never kill Itachi because Itachi's dead.
Over and over the thoughts replay themselves, until Sasuke's tears have turned to laughter and back to tears again. The truth is so unbelievable he thinks he must be dreaming. Perhaps he'll dream that Itachi has taken him back to that day again, and things would be right in the world.
When Naruto can no longer stand and his own body is ready to give with exhaustion, Sasuke throws himself as far away from the—corpse—as is possible and staggers to his feet. Unsteadily he pushes his way through the trees, out of the clearing, out of the forest, out of this nightmare. Naruto thinks Sasuke's breathing sounds like metal scraping; he can hear the wrenching of that deformed heart from miles away.
No part of his body is functional, but already the Kyuubi's chakra is encasing him in its protective barrier that hisses against the cold of the rain. He is strangely satisfied; more satisfied than he has ever imagined possible. His cuts have already healed. He lets out a saddened chuckle and moves to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth, resting his forearm heavily over his eyes.
"He's my past. He's the only future I've ever known."
Naruto mutters something he doesn't hear, and the night continues on in silence.
He laughs again at the memory and feels the pain tear through his nerves. "Sasuke, you've always been running blind."
Itachi was the ocean between them, but Itachi's body would serve as a vessel across. If the price of Sasuke's regard was Sasuke's hatred, then so be it. Naruto doesn't bother to go after him; he knows he will be back. After all, he was the only thing Sasuke had to run towards now.
END