I do not own Naruto.
Blur
Alone.
What a word that is.
It breaks hearts. It destroys lives. It leaves no survivors, wrecking all in it's path. So many people suffer from this illness... this disease. This silent killer.
Uzumaki Naruto rubs his temples. The water drips down his body slowly, quietly. The hot water beats down on his back with a type of accusation that he understands all too well, but refuses to acknowledge.
What did he do? (what didn't he do?)
His head throbs, scattering his thoughts. But the sting of them is still there. It will never leave, he knows, this sharp ache. It shall remain with him for the remainder of his existence.
Ironic, that the one person who abandoned him in life, stays with him after death.
He drags his finger nails over his face, tearing the tanned skin there. Blood begins to form and pool over, trickling down his face. It leaves him with the condemning water, cleaning his skin.
He turns the water off. His headache will not leave.
If only it would leave!
He sees someone in the mirror, and realizes with cold indifference that it is him he is looking at. But now, his conflicting emotions are displayed externally, allowing him to see his current state.
They say eyes are the gateway to a person's soul.
His body is perfect, or at least as close to perfection a human being can get. Many would be in awe of his abilities, the abilities he had worked so hard to perfect. But no Man can achieve perfection.
He notices, with a grim, humorless smile, that his face is still bleeding. The water, accusatory but healing, was only temporary. He bleeds. He cannot stop the crimson from flowing.
And his eyes are dead.
Shrugging a shirt over his body, he walks over to the medicine cabinet to take his daily pills. His artificial happiness.
How he longs to have the genuine kind.
But his hands passes over his fake happiness and lands on pain-killers. Unfortunately, they are not for his sort of pain.
So he takes all of the bottle, emptying it into his hand, placing it in his mouth. He knows it will not work. But again, he does not acknowledge himself.
He walks to his bed and lowers himself onto the soft comforter. He feels numbness in his fingers and feet, slowly creeping up his body. But he cannot bring himself to care.
He remembers.
It has been a while since he allowed himself to remember, thus, making the memory all the more sweeter. Bittersweet, but blissful nonetheless.
Soft raven hair, the kind that shone in the moonlight. He never brushed it, but Naruto had to admit that it just showed some of his inner personality. Wild. Free.
His lips. Those soft, pink lips. It was a surprise when he noted how soft they were. He had only been able to press his to them once without him protesting.
His skin, his smell, his nose, his face.
His eyes. (his soul was more alive then Naruto expected.)
They only seemed to show emotion while he was around. He kept the gates firmly closed when he could, but they would open ever so slightly when Naruto was present.
Naruto closed his eyes. Soon now. He couldn't feel parts of his body already, and the numbness was getting dangerously close to his head.
(Please stop the ache.)
He allowed a small smile to grace his lips. Yes, this was the solution. Why hadn't he done this long ago? He would have saved himself so much pain.
Sasuke, Sasuke. Sasuke, I'm coming. Wait for me. I'll catch up to you, stand side by side with you...
No more Loneliness.
Fin
Feedback would be fucking awesome.