Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Summary: And this is how a strange habit begins to pick up. No one can really notice when you don't notice yourself. And that's when that little nick becomes a deeper red, and that placid water shakes scarlet from a few drops of denial. Naruto tries to come to grips as to why his best friend would abandon him. So he's left alone to wash off his nicks and bruises while he ignores the problem underneath the surface.
A/N: It's slightly shonen-ai, but it could be ignored if you really wanted to do so. I was going for shonen-ai, but this is my first fanfic in the series, so it came off very soft. Shrugs Please review afterwards! Enjoy
Nicks
It's a strange habit to pick up really. He could claim he's careless, but no one bothers to ask anyways. No one seems to notice. Slipping two tan feet into the calm water beneath him, he exhales. It's a ragged and worn breath, like his body after training in the forest all day, alone. Just the way he prefers it anymore. He dares to move his legs further in. Ice courses through his veins, and he actually smirks for the first time in a long while.
The last remnants of summer desperately cling to forest's reflection and crisp air cuts his lungs. He licks his lips, as if he could taste the memory forming on closed eyelids. Because it's only on days like this that he can faintly catch the familiar scent of rivalry and savor the salt on his skin.
Sparring, that's what he tells himself he misses most about Sasuke. It's not the small instances they shared, every unsure look, undefined gesture, or questionably affectionate moments. It was the times they spat curses at each other through adolescent wrestling, screamed through their punches and laughed between taunts. He missed the trash talk and he missed the bruises that healed too quickly. He missed that self-assured posture and the rush of adrenaline, the tantrum right before he would tackle the smug look off his friend's face.
Naruto doesn't look down at his bleeding knuckles. He thinks of his training, his flesh breaking over bark, over and over, searching for some explanation. He won't let himself think about how it doesn't compare to the synchronicity found in the electrifying contact of two fists.
Instead he turns his thoughts to a fainter memory. His hands rub roughly on each other, washing off the bloodIt had been a day not unlike this one, the same breeze brushing comfortably against him. His lips crack as he smiles and he then takes another deep inhale of breath, he can almost swear he's there.
"You're pathetic." Sasuke would smirk, a single phrase giving him the exact results he wanted, the same results he always got. Such weakness.
Naruto remembers the times he would bash Sasuke into the ground, a tree, even this very river. His breath hitches for a moment when he recallsthe panting, fatigue, their stupid stubborn pride. And the world stops for a little while, frozen in the fading summer breeze; within the resounding clash of blue and red.
He holds his hands against his chest, a thumb carelessly rubbing off dead skin, healthy skin, now all bloody broken skin. His fingers dig in a little deeper, but he can't feel the crimson creep under his nails or the crawl of it down his arm. Desperate to make something permanent. Make him permanent.
They had tumbled on the dying yellow grass. Black locks fell on his face, annoyed his cheeks; but he wouldn't brush them away. Sasuke trapped his arms by his head, his young wrists beaten brown with mud. This is what usually happened after sparring, sometimes Naruto had him pinned; sometimes it was Sasuke. This particular time it was Sasuke. Both of them were practically gasping, eyes shut, sweaty, paused to gain enough breath. Haggard gasps returned to the steady rhythmic rise and fall of their chests, and they didn't move. Too tired, too hot, too content. Naruto sipped on Sasuke's level pants, cooling his heated features.
"You. Are such an. Asshole." He wheezed; his face twisted in anger, a retort to Sasuke's remark before. Sasuke's grip tightened on him, his thighs shimmied up Naruto to secure the position.
"Shut up." He exhaled, leaning slightly above his target. Naruto drank his words, and noticed the lack of usual venom. Naruto adjusted his eyes as they opened in the shadow, Sasuke still hadn't opened his. Orange sunshine surrounded his dark form and glimmered in the water and off the metal of his headband. Sasuke's clothes were rumpled; his sleeve crimped far above his shoulder. His pants exposed a naïve hipbone. Something kept tightening inside.
Naruto noticed a cut against Sasuke's pale arm, a token of their last skirmish. He was surprised to see it considering all his had healed.
Sasuke felt his stare and snapped open his eyes. He followed its direction, then tilted his head and raised his brow implying "So what?"
Naruto struggled a moment uncomfortable under his scrutiny, before seceding with a huff. "You pick at that don't you?" He asked, as if to excuse the fact he miserably failed at escape. Sasuke made a small noise of indifference when Naruto pushed further. "Why?"
Sasuke rested his forearms, framing Naruto's face. He thought a moment, perhaps considering whether to answer him or not. He looked across the river, lost in the familiar blue. "Scars remind us of who we are, what we've been through. Like a burn or tattoo." Curiosity fell onto Naruto from his charcoal eyes, and the grasp on his wrists weakened. "You should know that better than anyone."
Sasuke's right hand innocently
hovered over the whiskers on Naruto, who quickly turned away. "Yeah,
and that's why I know you shouldn't want to keep them."
Blushing and bothered he returned his gaze again to Sasuke. "What
if we don't want to be reminded of who we are, what we've been
through?" You won't get any stronger that way.
Sasuke lazily laid his head down, a soft metallic click punctuated where their headbands met. "Not our choice." His voice was soothing and smooth, lethargic. "They'll be there" His chest pressed closer against Naruto's heart, "scar or no scar." Naruto felt flushed, he thought he couldn't breathe. "So why hide it?"
Blood pumped, coaxed into sweet oblivion. "Sometimes, I- I just don't want to remember." Why he was lonely, why people looked away, why it hurt so badly. Naruto placed his hand on his arm, his thumb gently rubbing the cut, "If you just didn't pick at it, it would probably go way. So why keep it?"
There was a pause. Sasuke placed his head in the grass, finding a comfortable nook by his neck. His breath danced against Naruto warmly in the rapidly cooling dusk.
"Maybe…" He was so quiet. "I want to keep this one-" He carefully laid his fingers on Naruto's knuckles, and then caressed the blemishes there with timid fingers, offering silent understanding. "because it makes the other ones hurt less." A simple whisper. And it was understood.
And this is how a strange habit begins to pick up. No one really can notice when you don't notice yourself. And that's when that little nick becomes a deeper red, and that placid water, shakes scarlet from a few drops of denial.
It's obsessive, abusive, and compulsive. Just like they were. Just like they still are.
Naruto tries to put words like betrayal and confusion on his best friend. The words he couldn't find himself admitting to were the ones that ate away at his stomach. The ones that burned like acid before a new competition arose; and after when they shouldered each other's weight in an embrace reserved for comrades. They lingered on the comfortable arm and numbed when it moved away. Words that momentarily blinded as Sakura sang Sasuke's name; boiled when Sasuke spat Itachi's. Words like obsession and passion don't emerge because that would reveal something that frightened him to find. A word too devastating to permit. Exploited, vicious, yet beautiful.
So instead he picks and tears those nicks and bruises, lost in early autumn days. He chokes back on something, maybe his nails dug a little too deep. And he can feel the bile rise, bubbling and clawing up his throat from those acidic words. He restrains his shudders and believes that if he just gulps down enough air, he can stay here, he can stay here, he can stay here. He tries to stay in memories; he can still try to feel him. He has to feel him. But he can't.
His jaw slightly opens and lets air rush from a silent scream. Definitely dug a little too deep.
There's a painful coil tightening again, the same one he felt on this grass in past summer days. A selfish voice numbs it with comforting little whispers – Sasuke feels the same way.
He's a child again; sliding fragile fingers up to the forming tears and finds the only nicks that stay. And they're not Sasuke's. He swallows hard again allowing the tears to sink back in. But he wishes they were Sasuke's. And something deep, familiar, ancient inside of him continues to laugh. Because he needs them to be Sasuke's. Those nicks – it –are the only ones that stay with Naruto. The only nicks he'll ever find.
A/N: This was my first Narurto fic, so I would really appreciate some feedback on it. Reviews truly brighten up my day, no lie. Can't really say what inspired it, I just had it floating around in my head for a bit and finally sat down and finished it. Sorry if Naruto and Sasuke seemed OOC. I try to keep characters, well in character; but I'm not so sure how I did on this one. Shrugs So tell me what you thought, it's the only way I'll improve. Thanks. amp