A/N: Hi, people. Thanks for keeping up with this story, even though I'm seriously a terrible updater. XS For those who are new, I extend my warmest welcome, and I hope you will enjoy your stay. :) Like I've mentioned a couple months back, OH is in the process of its remaking because I was unhappy with the writing. This is an edited version of the story. Same plot, just written differently, and in Naruto's POV by the way (because the focus is mainly on him, I feel it's more appropriate this way). I apologise for my lateness... and have a good read.

Warning: This is a yaoi fanfiction. A Sasunaru fiction. Although it's pretty PG in the beginning. With a pinch of angst and maybe a couple of vulgarities in the mix. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: Naruto does not belong to me.

Prologue

Dark. That's all I see surrounding me. It doesn't matter whether I have my eyes closed or not, it is the same. It feels the same.

A gush of wind sweeps by and in reflex, I shiver to my last bone, not minding the mud on the floor scraping against flesh as I tug my bent knees closer to my body. It lends little heat but I'm desperate. I'll salvage any attempt. The soaked rags I have for clothes does nothing to shield the wind nor the cold. And by any means of the pitter patter against the zinc roof, the thundering downpour does not sound like it will rest any time sooner.

I try to at least feel some sort of gratitude that in a million chance to one, I have found someplace with a roof, albeit, a rundown one. I would not have last in the harsh weather what with my deteriorating stamina and mindless sprinting. There is still a continuous sting in both my feet, most probably torn and raw from the running. I have long lost my slippers on the way. I will not miss them but they were what I had.

I accidentally lean heavily on the wooden pillar in my shift to get comfortable. It creaks softly but it is enough to startle me. I turn my head in franticness, to the left and right even though it is darkness that greets me. And when I realise it is only myself, I will my rapid heartbeat to slow its dance. It's awful. It's painful. I'm scared, I will not deny, letting the tear I have been holding back roll down a cool cheek. How can I pretend this is all a dream when it feels so real? My lips are trembling, I know. I can feel from the harsh shaking of my entire being, I bet my soul shakes with me.

But what am I to do? I'm not strong enough, Pa. A choked sound escapes my mouth and I cover it with my arm. Ma already left and now, you are gone too. You promised me you will be back. You promised!

Why aren't you? Why aren't you??

Help me, Pa.

I mouth my silent plea, grabbing my knees tighter. But who am I kidding? He has left for almost half a year now, gone like the sudden gush of wind. As much as I try hating him, I cannot do it. He is still my hero and my heart and conscience betrays my mind. Every time.

I drop my head against my bony knees as if they weigh a tonne, casting aside the many images of a smiling man with bright blue eyes. The mental sight brings an ongoing dull throb in a beginning of a fresh headache. I feel my head steadily getting heavier and myself clawing at the end strings of consciousness. It is a futile act. Only sheer will is keeping me awake but I'm tired, very, very tired. I do not think any normal six years old experience what I do. Maybe, except them?

Distantly, I register a strong hold on my back and around my knees. I feel myself lifted so casually in the air in moments and forcefully open my eyelids. When did I shut them anyway? In my partially conscious mind, I cannot care less if it is them. They can have their way, I do not care anymore. I have suffered enough beatings and kicks, what is one more? The strong grip however, confirms that it is not them. This touch is too soft, too warm. It kind of feels like... Pa. My heartbeat quickens its pace with a single lingering thought I have deprived myself with.

Has he come to save me?

I can barely sketch the outlines of this figure, he's running too quickly and my vision is too clouded. I really am tempted to ask him "What is the hurry?", but my lips can barely move. The last thing I remember, is my body being in contact with the softest cushion I've ever felt before a blanket of nothingness enveloped me. And I am brought to a happy land with two of the people I want to see the most.

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