Disclaimer~ I do not own Naruto. I only own this plot and Amie

Prologue

I remember that day, as if it were, only yesterday. Every sound and every movement we made, still ringing in my ears and flashing in my mind, like a movie that keeps playing, no matter how hard I try and get it to stop.

The day my father died.

I wasn't there, I was at home with my Mom, preparing the dinner, so it was ready, for when my dad arrived home.

We didn't eat that night.

Both Mom and I were having too much fun, to hear the knock on the door. It wasn't until the knocking got louder and more persistent, that my Mom opened the door, to reveal Ebisu, the squad leader of my dad's team, standing at our door, looking solemn. I knew something was wrong, as Dad wasn't with him.

Mom invited him in, no longer smiling, as he pulled me onto the couch next to him. Ebisu spoke softly, unable to meet our gazes. But I on the contrary couldn't tear my gaze from him.

"Naruto, I'm so very sorry. But Sasuke has been killed, in an ambush. We tried to save him but, there was nothing we could do"

That was when my mind froze. I couldn't believe it, my dad, was dead. It seemed like a million years went by me and I hadn't moved.

Mom took in a deep breath, clutching my hand, trying to give me comfort. "When did it happen?" he asked weakly.

Ebisu looked at us both, before answering. "Two hours ago"

Mom nodded, numbly as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. I don't think either of us could let it sink in, as it would mean it was true. Ebisu pulled out an item from his pocket and handed it to me.

Dad's headband.

The man stood. "I'll see myself out. I'm truly sorry for your loss"

Neither of us answered, or even acknowledged that we had heard him. Mom seemed to be frozen in place, unable to move, with his hand still clutching mine. I looked at him, and saw he had, tears welling up in his usually bright blue eyes. I felt ashamed.

Why wasn't I crying? Was I in shock? Or was I expecting Ebisu, to come back in and say it was all, one sick joke?

Either way, I couldn't cry. All I could do was hold my Mom's hand, and comfort him. He did the crying for both of us.

Exactly one month after, my father's death, a ceremony was held in honour of his memory. It was disgusting, really. Most of the people that turned up hated my dad.

It was then I realized why I couldn't cry for him. I couldn't cry, because deep down, I knew he was still alive. He's out there somewhere. I guess I knew deep down that he was all along. So in that moment I decided I would find him. Whatever it took, I would bring my dad home.

But if I knew then, what I know now, maybe it would've been better, to just keep him in my memories.