Hello! This is sort of influenced by cardcaptor eternity's stories It's too late to apologize and Konohamaru's Plea, and I just wanted to have a go at it myself. I will send you a chapter though for your most recent story cardcaptor! I promise!
Please enjoy!
Iva bit her lip in an attempt to fight the pain.
She could lose a few pounds.
SCRATCH.
She shouldn't have dropped that plate while serving all those important visitors that her parents relied on for business.
SCRATCH.
She made a fool of herself in front of Taku by saying something stupid.
SCRATCH.
She remembered the look all those girls had given her as she walked by, the whispers that were directed at her.
SCRATCH.
She was worthless.
SCRAAAAATCH.
Who could care about a person like her?
SCRRRRRAAAAAAAATCH.
Iva hissed and inspected her work.
Her entire left upper arm was covered with half-moon cuts that spread across horizontally across her shoulder, running over scars from the past, opening some, and creating new ones. Blood slowly drizzled down from some of the cuts, all mixing together and traveling down the length of her arm.
She stared, transfixed at all the blood she had drawn, oddly proud of herself for doing so well. Most times there would just be a red welt, but sometimes she did a good enough job to go deep enough to bleed.
Iva wasn't sure how she started, or even why she continued. She supposed it was somewhat like how some people would slit their wrists with something sharp like a knife, but those people were foolish and stupid. Many had died or been sent to the hospital for blood loss, and then everyone knew what they did, and the wounds were hard to hide. Her way was much more efficient.
By using her fingernails she was sure that she would never hurt herself enough that she would be in mortal danger, and it was just enough to be able to let out her frustration. Also, by doing it on her upper arms it could be easily hidden by sleeves, and no one would be the wiser.
She felt a certain type of joy whenever she dragged her nails across her flesh, breaking it apart and feeling the pain snake through her arm. She was able to vent out her anger at herself and others without hurting anyone. This also provided her with a way that she could punish herself, a way to punish herself for being stupid and worthless.
The pain that would linger for a few days after each scratch would serve as a constant reminder of her worthlessness and how she would always have to work to do things perfectly to avoid another scratching episode before the previous wounds were healed.
The days following each episode she would have to wear light and silky shirts, because any other material would irritate it too much and her whole upper arm would itch.
Satisfied with the day's work, she adjusted the rolled up sleeve to make sure it wouldn't fall down on her, and then grabbed a wet cloth from her bag before pressing it down firmly on the bleeding shoulder. She would alternate scratching sessions between shoulders, going from right to left, left to right, right to left. Now she was having less and less free, unaltered skin, but that didn't matter.
Suddenly, Iva heard a rustle of leaves and she hastily put the cloth back in her small bag and unrolled the sleeve, wincing as she did so, making sure the cuts were covered properly, praying that they wouldn't bleed onto her clothes.
"Hi," a blonde boy said cheerfully, his eyes curving upwards.
"Um, hi," she said weakly. No one had ever interrupted her scratching sessions. Iva had chosen a secluded place in the woods, away from the training grounds that the shinobi used and the park that the village children liked to play on. She would always lie and say she was going on a small walk, picking up some snacks on the way. Once she reached her special spot she would set down a blanket and make a picnic of sorts, as an alibi should anyone chance to come by. Then she would commence the scratching.
Now here was this boy interrupting her before the process was over, and not just any boy. It was the Uzumaki boy, the one that her parents told her to stay away from, the one whom everyone stared at without staring whenever he passed thorugh the village. No one had ever told her why, they just said he was bad news. Iva didn't really see what all the fuss was about.
Sure, she had heard the stories of all the pranks he had pulled, even seen a few herself, especially when he painted the Hokage's faces. She knew it was disrespectful, but one had to admit, he was quite the artist!
Iva figured it had to do with his pranksterish tendencies, and the fact that he had those peculiar "whiskers" on his face. People always seemed to hate and fear those who were different, she should know. She didn't act exactly like all the other girls, was more shy, and kept to herself most of the time. Being different was a curse.
The only question was, what was he doing here?
"My name is Uzumaki Naruto, what's yours?" he asked brightly, plopping down on the ground besides her, his orange jumpsuit looking oddly in place in the green shadows, the black "tails" of his Hitai-ate swaying in the wind along with the ends of his hair.
"Mikorou Iva," she answered, pasting on a fake smile, willing the boy to just leave and let her be alone.
Silence ensued for a few minutes as they both sat there awkwardly, the breeze lightly caressing their faces.
Suddenly Iva felt a hand on her shoulder and discovered that the boy was rolling up her sleeve!
"What are you doing?!" she shrieked as she slapped his hand away and stood up to run away. However, as she started to turn, the blonde boy appeared right in front of her.
"How—"
"Shinobi," he answered solemnly before reaching out for her sleeve again. Iva resisted by pulling away slightly, but he grasped her arm with his right hand and slowly rolled up the sleeve with his left hand.
Once the slightly bleeding, red mess was revealed, Iva stared at the ground, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, unable to know what to say. She wanted to pull away, but there was no chance of being releashed from a shinobi grip.
"Why?"
Iva frowned at the tone of his voice and glanced up at him to notice there were tears in his eyes, a softness and hurt in his eyes that meant he had been through the same grief. She was embarrassed that he felt sorry for her! Why should he take pity on her?!
"Because," she said simply, her voice threatening to crack.
"You shouldn't do that," he said quietly.
"Really? Well, thanks for the advice," Iva said sarcastically, surprised by the bitterness in her tone.
"I mean it, doing that would only make it worse," he pressed, clearly wanting her to understand him.
"Well, what do you know about it?" she challenged, wrenching her arm away angrily.
The shinobi said nothing as he unzipped his orange jacket to reveal a tight black shirt and a unique necklace, before sliding the long sleeves to his elbows and displayed his bare shoulder since the shirt he wore had no sleeves.
"What? I don't see anything."
"Feel," the boy prodded, turning the right shoulder towards her. Iva raised an eyebrow but did as he said, and was shocked to feel the uneven skin, scars, and welts she knew too well.
"B—but why?"
"I used to do the same, it's just that my injuries heal faster and more efficiently than most," he grimaced as if it were something unpleasant.
"H—how could . . . " and then she remembered all the hateful glares some of the villagers would throw at his back when he passed, the way people would seem to spit his name whenver it had to be said.
He smiled weakly to try and lighten the mood and tied the jacket around his waist, then rubbed the back of his neck.
"I did it when I was younger because no one cared about me. Everyone hated me, and I didn't know why. I figured that there must have be something wrong with me, and since I couldn't find anything, I figured that I might as well make a reason. Hurting myself like that made the hatred more justified and gave me a reason to feel ashamed at myself. I couldn't be ashamed of something I did not know about."
"Then someone took the time to treat me normally, to tell me that I was special, and doing things like this is not right. Defacing yourself like this hurts you, and does nothing else. It doesn't make you feel better, and all it does is cause problems." He smiled again and then placed both hands above her injury, pausing for a second in concentration, and a green glow was emitted underneath.
Iva's eyes widened as she recognized the healing chakra flare. How did he—
After a minute or so had passed he stopped the chakra and let his hands drop, and Iva inspected the skin in amazement. The cuts were completely healed and were nothing but mere tiny scars!
"A medical kunoichi taught me some of the basics," he explained, that same, contagious smile pasted on his face.
Suddenly the shinobi found himself tightly enveloped in a hug from the girl, who was sobbing silently.
"A—arigato," she cried, burying her face into his chest. Naruto smiled softly and gently rubbed her back in an effort to calm her down.
Once she was finished they sat down and ate the picnic that Iva had brought, with Naruto listening to stories of her family after she had listened to all his tales of the missions he had gone on and the traning he had undertaken with Jiraiya.
"Bye, Naruto!" Iva called out happily, waving to him as she made her way home, which he returned before disappearing into the trees to go practice.
As she made her way back to her house, her heart lighter than it had ever been, she reflected over how she and Naruto promised to meet every so often and just talk, and especially about what he had told her once she was done.
Just know I'm here.
So, what do you think? I know that many would think of teen insecurities and the way they deal with them with topics such as suicide, anorexia, bulemia, slitting wrists, etc. but I wanted to take this a step further and bring out a side that no one really talks about.
I don't know for sure how many people out there do this, but one of my friends does. Whenever she is furious with herself, or feel depressed she digs her nails into her skin, and she has the scars to prove it. I am writing this to reach out to all others who do the same and let them know that they should stop. Our bodies are sacred gifts and should not be desecrated like this. Find a healthier way to vent out some feelings, like writing fanfics! :P
Anyway, this is just my attempt at trying to let others know that they aren't alone, and if you do scratch yourself like this, don't hesitate to send me a PM and just talk! I realize that it's something strange and you can't really go to a counselor for this kind of thing, since it's so weird. Or even if you do something else similar to this, please talk to me!
With today's media, teens are feeling more and more worthless, like they don't belong and they think that because they don't look a certain way or wear certain clothes or act a special way they are freaks. I encourage you all to realize that you are YOU, and no one else can. Be that incredibly special someone and be the best at it! You can always find someone who is willing to listen to you, and there is always someone who will care about you.
Oh, and we can't forget our favorite Naruto! I couldn't think of a better person to play this role other than him, and we've all got to admit that he is an amazing person, and this is my way as a sort of tribute to the kind of person he is. I luv him so much!