He walked into the grassy clearing, not entirely certain of where he was. The sky was bright and cloudless. Strangely enough, the sun was nowhere to be found and the warmth held a chilling tinge to it, a burning intensity as it cloaked his skin. He felt as if it was the hottest day in history, yet he was frozen inside, filled with horror and sorrow and unbearable pain.
Everyone was there. He didn't know why, he didn't know how he had gotten there himself, but their presence left him feeling guilty, abhorred... filthy. None of them looked at him. They didn't even look at each other. Sadness was heavy on all of their shoulders, making their heads hang low and their eyes cling to the ground as if answers were buried into the fluorescent green grass they all stood on.
He watched them all, screaming- though, oddly enough, no word left his lips- for them to tell him what was happening!
He already knew. He did not know how he knew, did not actually know, did not have an actual idea, but he just knew somehow. He was terrified to know.
Lee came by him, his head held low and his glossy black hair- Wait, purple? No, black glossy hair- hid his face.
He reached out and grabbed his shoulder. Lee felt so cold, so strangely cold and stiff, but Lee looked up at him. His dark, dark eyes were darker than usual. Deeper as well. He looked at them until he was looking into them and then he was falling... falling...
He gasped as he stumbled back, his heart kick starting painfully in his chest.
Lee cried silent, thick purple tears. "It is too late." He walked away.
No matter how he tried to reach Lee, to get him to explain, he couldn't move.
Kiba walked by him- What? Where were his tribal markings? Why were his cheeks so pale and red? No... They were tanned lovingly by the sun and the red must have been the tattoos he had just thought not there- and continued pass him.
He grabbed the other boy by his jacket. He opened his mouth, screaming in his mind for answers, but they never ran over his lips and into the disturbing, heart broken silence.
Kiba looked up at him. He was crying thick, purple tears. "You're too late." Kiba pushed him away and continued on his way.
He felt a cold sweat break out over him. What was too late? What was he too late for? He already knew, felt the knowledge there in his mind, but he didn't know. All there was... were his heavy heart and this freezing chill that accompanied the blazing sky. Mocking him, he realized.
He began walking. There was a mist in front of him; not like a natural mist but as if his sight was hazy, as if he were trying to see through a window while the rain pelted the glass.
He was crying.
His hand came out, touching the cool, smooth surface of a burial urn. There was a picture next to it, but he couldn't make out the face.
There was too much pain. He was too afraid. He already knew who was in this urn, who was gone, who would never be coming back, but he didn't know. He knew this person, but he couldn't see the face. The name was there, but he couldn't pronounce it.
He turned around, back to the others, not knowing why.
Behind him stood Gaara. His blue-green eyes did not cry thick, purple tears. Just a single, thin, black tear and yet Gaara looked as unaffected as any other day. "Look at her."
He obeyed the order, though he wanted nothing more than to rebel. He turned around and looked at the picture. His tears cleared away and the sky glared so intensely, yet he saw the picture. He saw the person as if the person stood in front of him.
He sobbed. "No!"
"Look at her." Gaara again.
He was looking at her. He was! Yet he turned back to Gaara. He was filled with even more horror, more anger and guilt and absolute anguish, even before he saw who stood with Gaara now.
She did.
He wailed like a baby and dropped to his knees. She stood there, looking so serene and beautiful; yet looking at her only drove the pain of knowing she was gone deeper into his heart, tearing it beyond repair.
She looked down at him, not lending him her comfort or her touch, seeming out of reach though she was not even an arm length away.
"NO!" He sobbed. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to her, but she was untouchable.
"She's gone." He felt nothing for Gaara or his words. Gaara was right.
She stood there, silent and watching him, but she wasn't. There! He didn't know how to explain it, he saw her, and he knew he could touch her, but he just knew she was gone! Knew that he wouldn't touch her.
Everyone looked at him. He couldn't see them all- all he could see was her-, but he knew they were watching him.
He knew all of their eyes were pale purple. Like lilacs and soft emotions. Like winter settled over a meadow.
Like hers. Except her eyes were gone. They were there, she was looking at him with them, and he was looking into them. But they were endless. Long winding tunnels that ended in agony and death.
They were not hers.
He screamed.
And he woke up screaming.
Which freaked Kiba out. "Whoa, man!" Kiba slapped him across one cheek. "Chill! It was just a nightmare!" Kiba shook his shoulders, jarring his entire body. "Naruto! Naruto!"
He stopped as suddenly as he had begun, looking at Kiba with the horror he had felt and the distress that left tear stains on his cheeks and his eyes hazed red. He panted and his shirt clung tightly to his sweaty form. He was so cold...
Kiba frowned. "Are you alright?" He rubbed his back awkwardly.
Naruto started to nod and then stopped. His eyes swayed from Kiba to the woman standing in his doorway.
Hinata was frowning, fear and pain in her soft eyes. She took a step into his bedroom once she was aware of having his attention. "N-Naruto?"
He slid from the bed, feeling almost in a daze as he reached out a hand and cupped her one cheek...
Warm!
He slipped his hand lower and pressed it over her heart (not ignoring, but just not aware of when Kiba sputtered and Hinata's face dyed red).
... Beating!
He sobbed again. He wrapped Hinata up tightly in his arms and brought her as close to him as their physical bodies could.
His knees shook beneath him and then finally gave out with relief. Hinata came down with him.
"You're alive!" He laughed around his sobs, tears whispering down his cheeks, his shoulders shaking heavily. "I thought I'd never see you again!" He tried to smile, but ended up crying harder.
He pushed his face into her chest, listening hard for the reassuring heartbeat.
... Even better! Not only was it beating, it was beating faster! Harder! Dead hearts wouldn't do that! Neither would dying hearts! They would be slow... frighteningly slow... Dying kind of slow that made people cry.
He really wished he could stop crying.
Her arms came up hesitantly, circling his shoulders and brushing back his unruly spikes. "I... I would never leave you, N-Naruto..." She kisses his cold forehead. Her lips were wet and balmy, her breath shaky.
Naruto shook harder. "P-promise? I... I don't want to go to your funeral!" He finished on a wail. His grip became bruising. He wasn't aware of it. Hinata didn't point it out.
"I..." Hinata rested her smooth, pale cheek against his head. "I promise."
She held him as he held her.
He was terrified! What if he woke up and this was the dream? What if his nightmare was reality? He didn't want to wake up if that was the case!
His sobs turned slowly into sniffles... His sniffles turned slowly into gasping pants... His gasping pants turned into murmured fears... His murmured fears turned into silence.
Hinata never said anything, but the silence wasn't freezing and blazing, her eyes weren't endless and damning.
He was cold only because he felt so cold, but her heart was warming him.
She touched him and she wasn't stiff and frigid.
She was alive!
Please, please... Naruto pleaded with himself, his mind alive and frenzied with pain and relief, but not echoing with unvoiced screams...
Please let this be reality.