Disclaimer: I don't claim to own Naruto. That's why this is called a disclaimer :)
Warnings for this fic:
—Innocent boyxboy kissing. Mild yaoi, my friends. Mild.
The following warnings will not be repeated in further chapters. Expect them regularly.
—A rather sad and lonely Naruto is portrayed here. It might break your heart. Be wary.
—There is also profanity and violence but the violence is weaksauce.
—Angst in epic proportions :(
Chapter One: The Demon On Ninth
The summer wind shifted blond bangs just enough to tickle the face of the head they were connected to. Tickle? Could this blond actually be ticklish? Probably not. At least, that's what the whole town thinks. It just isn't possible for Naruto to feel something so human, right? Bah. This was one of those evenings in which the wind was changing from summer to spring. Instead of its typical warmth, the breeze now carried a biting chill and the hint of rain. It wouldn't really matter if it did rain. What difference would it really make to the blond? Rain or no rain, drenched or dry, he was still himself. He would still be wallowing in this park all alone. At least, if he was drenched, someone might stumble by and take notice of him… probably not, though. They would try not to notice him. He was sure of it and it wouldn't be very hard at all.
In theory, it was a nice day. The sun was dropping further down, turning its comforting afternoon heat into a chilly spring evening. The grass was soft and green. The park was empty, just the way the tan boy liked it. It was the perfect refreshing day but something heavier was weighing on the blonde's mind, clouding the perfection. On the other side of the park from the boy stood the gravestones of villagers passed. They were homages to the villagers' existence. They were declarations of heroism, the brave men and women who gave their lives to preserve the village. Many names associated with many acts of courage mingled on the same tombstones but there was one dedicated to a specific event. There was one tombstone dedicated to the worst thing to have ever happened to the village, the day the famed demon attacked. That stone held carved within it the names of the men and women who died at the hand of that demon. This was a place that people rarely came. Once in a while someone would come and remember a loved one and that's why Naruto chose to sit so far away from it. He didn't want to impose on the memories of those people. Surely, if he was seen near that place, he would receive a lot of trouble for it.
Unavoidably, he had been spotted sitting against the very tree he stood before now staring off in that general direction and he would regularly return to his tree in the park to find hateful names and words of dismay carved into the bark. He didn't know exactly who kept doing it but he figured that it was probably the entire village collectively taking their turns at providing the boy with nasty remarks. They all felt undeniable disdain for him and they made no effort to hide it. He was never concerned about those hateful words turning into hateful actions, though. Everyone was too afraid to approach him. Getting into a real altercation with Naruto was something that no one was willing to do, even if he was no stronger or better than anyone else in the village. Sasuke was the only one who would challenge him. Sasuke wasn't afraid of Naruto but Sasuke also wasn't fond of him. He hated the blond as much as anyone, Naruto was sure. The only time anyone would attack him was when he was drunk and walking home from the bar. A few times he had been caught off guard and given a nice beating. No one other than Sasuke was man enough to face him sober, though. Even then, he and Sasuke rarely came to blows. It was hardly ever physical competition.
Naruto guessed that he should be grateful for that but it felt oddly unsatisfying that nobody wanted to beat him up during the day. Nobody wanted to get close. Yes, it was nice to stay free of bruises but he felt so disregarded that way. At least, if they were beating him up and spitting words of hatred in his face, they would see him. Instead, they all pretended not to see him until he wasn't looking. When he was preoccupied or unaware, they would point and stare and whisper as if he was some sort of freak show and he was. He was a freak show. He was a monster. He just wanted someone to truly recognize him and he would be alright if that meant getting beat up in broad daylight, as long as it wasn't in the middle of the night when he was too drunk to care.
Nonetheless, he remained disregarded and was left to ponder the notes of hatred scribbled into his tree in the park. People hated the fact that he would sit at that tree. They were probably petitioning to get it cut down at this very moment, anything to keep the blond from desecrating the resting place of these heroes. It was as if Naruto contaminated the very land he walked upon but they were right, weren't they? Naruto really didn't have any right to be there. They should cut down his tree and banish him to his apartment. The reason he even came to this spot was because his apartment was just so cold and empty. It was dirty and uninviting and it smelt foreign. It wasn't a home. It felt nice to be anywhere but there. Was it really so hard to believe that he was there paying his respects? Was it really that insane to conceive that he felt bad, that he wanted to offer his apologies?
In truth, Naruto hadn't actually done a thing but he still felt so responsible for all of those names carved into that stone. He felt responsible for all of the little boys and girls who grew up with no mommy or daddy. He felt responsible for those parents and grandparents and sisters and brothers and aunts and uncles that were lost. He felt responsible for every broken heart that was attached to that grave stone which was every heart in the village, considering the fact that the 4th Hokage's name was carved in that gravestone, too. The icon of the village, the pillar of hope was lost to that demon. He supposed that he felt this way because that's the way they all wanted him to feel. They had spent Naruto's whole life making him feel like a murderer.
That's why he liked his tree so much. He actually enjoyed going there and offering silent apologies to those names on that stone and the times that someone would come and visit, he would whisper words of comfort and remorse to those people from across the park. They would never hear him but, perhaps, they would feel those words unexpectedly penetrate them and they would accept them, unaware that they had come from someone so terrible as Naruto. As much as the people of the village would disagree, Naruto was human. He felt the villagers' pain and he felt sorry for it all. He felt sorry enough to spend at least a couple of hours nearly every day at that tree quietly atoning for these sins, sins that weren't even his.
Today, 'freak' and 'die already' had been added to his tree. As the rapidly chilling breeze blew through his bangs, he ran his fingers roughly across the words carved forcefully into the tree. He could feel the anger in those words emanating from the bark. He wondered if the person responsible was watching him now. If they were, they wouldn't see it but they would receive the reaction they wanted with a pang of guilt and surge of pain. Naruto was rather experienced at keeping his emotions in check. He was a very emotional being but he learned to let those emotions go unseen when he realized that no one was listening anyway. No one cared if his feelings were hurt. No one cared if he was lonely. No one cared if he was happy. No one cared at all. It was just better to keep them hidden as best that he could, especially the dark ones.
If he showed anger, he would be giving the villagers a reason to say he was a monster. See, they would say, he's just a ticking time bomb, better off dead. If he showed sadness or guilt or anything else, he would be giving them what they want. Bah, they would say, just as pathetic and useless as we thought he would be! If he even showed joy, he would be fueling the fire of hatred. How dare he, they would say. How dare he be happy as if he has the right? Truthfully, Naruto wasn't allowed to show emotions. They would always, without fail, backfire on him, so he would just stroke those words carved into his tree and let his heart ache in silence.
At least, it was something, right? They hated him enough to etch their hatred into his tree. They felt something toward him and something was better than nothing. He often goofed off and acted like a fool because the best chance he had at companionship was in his generation. They didn't completely detest him as much as previous generations or those directly affected by the unfortunate incident. Although, everyone was affected by the death of the 4th. The kids at his school would, at least, tolerate his antics. They would acknowledge his stupidity. Everyone else wouldn't even give him a second look. He was sure that this was all that he would ever receive. This was the closest he would ever get to love. He could only ever have people hating him from afar or jeering at him from up close. Either way, it was miserable but, either way, it was something.
It was a shame to have been given this life, really. Naruto was a naturally enthusiastic guy. He was happy and full of laughter but that had been taken away from him the day that the kyuubi was sealed inside of him. That day, his childhood, his innocence, and his right to happiness were all taken away. The natural joy that Naruto had borne lay buried deep down by feelings of inadequacy, betrayal, and loneliness, among many other negative things. Only when he was with Sasuke did Naruto laugh from the gut and that was a shame because Sasuke had never once intended to make him laugh. Sasuke hardly ever spoke to Naruto unless it was to proclaim his victory against the blond. Sasuke didn't do much of anything, actually. Any hint of laughter would die in his throat and emerge as a momentary smirk, if that. Any pinch of emotion would lose its way and be replaced with a cold, emotionless façade. Surely, Sasuke must feel emotions. It's just that nobody ever saw them. Even when he was claiming superiority over Naruto, he claimed it in as few words as possible with no emotion at all but he still made Naruto undeniably happy. To have something that wasn't forced with the Uchiha was enough to make the blond blurt out true laughter. Maybe Sasuke didn't like Naruto but he did like the competition. Even if he would never show it, he hadn't broken it off, so he must enjoy it to some degree and that was enough to placate Naruto. Sasuke recognized him in some form and it was the realest form of acknowledgement that he received from anyone in the entire village, as pitiful as it was.
The chilling breeze didn't concern Naruto much as he plopped down lazily on the grass. He could feel raw emotion prying its way up through his core and he worked hard to push it all down. Perhaps, he thought to himself, today is not a day to repent. Maybe I can't take it. A beer or two will calm my nerves. With that thought, he allowed himself to regain his composure against his tree for a moment before standing, grabbing his things, and heading to the bar. He was only eighteen and nearing the end of his last year in high school but the villagers never questioned him if he wanted a beer or two or twelve. It was the only place he was welcome. Well, as welcome as he could be. They only let him drink underage like this because they didn't mind a drunken Naruto. He was easy to take your anger out on and many people took advantage of that. Most people would just yell and point and poke and blame and Naruto would nod dismally and continue to drink. Sometimes, though, people would get physical. He was also easy to beat up while drunk. He knew that nothing good would come of drinking but it sounded nice right now and if it allowed him to be spared of the emotional turmoil that came with being him, then he would take it. When he was drunk, he just didn't give a fuck and he liked that. He would never let completely loose until safely in his apartment but all the comments and looks and punches he would receive while drunk wouldn't hurt him as much and that was nice.
The only person who ever had anything to say about this was the current Hokage. Underage drinking was against the law no matter what but the Hokage saw something different in Naruto. He didn't see a demon or a monster. He didn't feel hatred or anger. He felt pity. He understood. He knew much more about Naruto's special circumstances than anyone. He also knew that it was Naruto's own journey to figure out his life for himself and if drinking himself silly every now and then would help him, who was the Hokage to really disagree? He knew that boy's pain. He couldn't bring himself to take the only reprieve Naruto had away from him. One day he would shape up and everything would be different. He just had to have faith in Naruto. Every time Naruto was attacked, the Hokage would fight with himself to not get involved. There was no good to come of punishing someone for committing a hate crime against Naruto. The villagers would only be angry and it wouldn't help Naruto in the end. Of course, getting beat up didn't help him either but the Hokage knew that Naruto could prevent that himself if he wanted to. It was best to leave Naruto to his own devices. If he ever needed guidance, the Hokage would be there to offer it but he could apply no more pressure than that. It was a hard position to take but it was the right one.
Naruto didn't care if it was four o'clock on a Wednesday. No one at school would miss him the next day and there was nothing better to do with his afternoon, so he sat down at his favorite, secluded stool in the bar and ordered a sake. Beer was his favorite but he needed something stronger today. He needed something more potent. He looked across the bar and saw a familiar dark face drinking a dark drink, something nonalcoholic, for sure. Naruto caught the boy's eye while pouring his first cup of sake. He held the gaze for a short moment before throwing the sake back quickly. He winced as it burnt his throat on its way down and the Uchiha broke his stare. Naruto sighed. It was such a shame that Sasuke would have to see him this way. Although their rivalry would be ongoing indefinitely (that is to say, until Sasuke grew truly bored of Naruto's pathetic attempts at surpassing him), Sasuke would never actually care for Naruto. It was strange that Naruto even longed for him to care. Another deep sigh left Naruto's lungs as he watched the pale boy from across the bar. He wasn't sure what it was, but Naruto was sure he needed something from Sasuke.
Their competitions were fun, in theory, but they always left Naruto craving more. It wasn't that he could never win. He won almost as often as Sasuke did but that didn't matter. It was the mere fact that Sasuke would always be the untouchable Uchiha King that mattered. Sasuke was an angel from the heavens, no matter how many times Naruto beat him. Naruto would always be the hated Uzumaki boy that nobody wanted to talk to. He would always be the annoying moron who wished desperately that his efforts to beat Sasuke would deem him worthy enough of Sasuke's love. He supposed that's what it was, then. That's what Naruto needed. Your love, Sasuke, Naruto thought to himself. I need just a piece of your love. It didn't really matter what kind of love that it was or how Naruto received it, just having it in some way would be enough. It was something Naruto was sure that he would never experience, though. Sasuke was a god compared to Naruto. Naruto was nothing but the petty dirt Sasuke walked upon. That was all Naruto's existence would ever be and it would be a longer, colder existence than it already was without someone like Sasuke to share it with.
As he drained his third sake, someone finally came up to begin the onslaught of insults. Here we go, Naruto thought to himself. And so it begins. It was a young man, only a few years older than Naruto. He spoke with haste and anger. It seemed he was nervous that the blond wasn't drunk enough to be spoken to so roughly. Little did he know, Naruto wasn't even half as dangerous as he thought. Not to mention, Naruto wouldn't have fought him about it sober or drunk. Though wary, the man did not hold back the venom in his voice. He told Naruto all about how Naruto had murdered his parents and left him with nothing. He told him about how Naruto should die and that he didn't deserve life. If he was going to keep living, he should do it outside the village walls. He wasn't welcome. This, I already know, Naruto thought. Unwelcome is an understatement. After him, there was a young lady followed by two older gentlemen who planted words of resentment on the blond.
By his seventh sake Naruto was feeling especially negligent. Apparently his lack of attention made someone mad enough to drag the blond outside. Once there and unable to lock his swimming vision on the angry patron, a blow glanced off of his right temple just missing him out of sheer drunken luck as he stumbled around. Unfortunately, the next three staggers weren't as lucky. They seemed to throw him right into the punches being thrown at him. Before he knew it, he was on the ground and a second man was kicking him mercilessly in the ribs. It was a few long moments before the men spat on the blond and left him the alley by the bar.
Naruto didn't enjoy getting beat up but if it made his attackers feel better, if meant less blatant hatred in the future, he would take it as willingly as he could. He tried to be the best sucker he could be by staying conscious for as long as possible. That way people could really get their frustrations out and, perhaps, tomorrow they would hate him less. This was never the case, of course, and Naruto always knew that it wouldn't be. They would beat him senseless and wake to hate him just as much in the morning but the idea that he deserved it all was burnt so deeply into his brain that he didn't care. Hatred would be hatred. He deserved every bit of it. The best he could do now was take it like a man, even if most of the village thought of him as more of a monster.
The summer breeze had turned completely to a spring chill by now and it was extra bitter as it cooled the blood dripping from his face. He felt limp and weak on the ground but made no attempt to stand. He wanted to cry but he knew that he would have to save that for later. This was neither the time nor the place. He needed to get up, pay his bill, and make it home in hopes that no one would ambush him along the way. He was content to lay there a few minutes longer, though. The sun was just crawling farther and farther down in the sky, deepening as it kissed the horizon over the trees. It was truly a beautiful sight. His vision steadied on the sunset for just long enough to appreciate it before it blurred again. He, then, began to feel very warm and the smell of... of... of home suddenly washed over him. He wasn't sure what was warming him so or whose home he was smelling but he was sure that he liked it.
He could just barely made out a figure kneeling before him. It was tall and pale... maybe or maybe it was short and tan. He didn't really know but he felt the figure pull his arms through the arm holes of what he now recognized to be a sweater. As the fabric was rustled the sweet smell washed over his nose again, causing him to smile. It was a nice smell and he imagined that it was what Sasuke would smell like. He sighed. If only I could ever be lucky enough to indulge in Sasuke. His smile widened. He, then, realized what was happening to him. He wasn't being yelled at. He wasn't being hit. He was being taken care of. Someone was lending him their sweater. Someone was gently lifting him into a sitting position. What? Who could be helping him? He was just the demon who lived on ninth. No one to be noticed. No one to be helped.
His lids grew heavier and heavier. The smell of the sweater was so comforting that he couldn't help himself as it lured him into sleep. He caught just a glimpse of deep, dark eyes through his own blurry gaze. He was curious to know who was being so kind to him but the warmth of his own fictional Sasuke was crawling all throughout his body, coaxing him slowly into a dreamland. Sasuke, he sighed in his mind. Sasuke, he recited, his lids growing heavier. "Sasuke," he breathed, letting that last one slip out in an accidental whisper. He didn't really mind, though. He let a content moan roll through his chest just as everything faded to black.