Oops. There goes that spontaneity again. Rat bastard. I know I shouldn't. I've gone through three ideas for this story. Finally vomited out this one. Cannot and will not guarantee any kind of update until November. Rated M because this may end up having lemons and other M rated stuff in it. If other stories of mine are anything to go off, anyway. This will be an official project once Strength is over. Thank you for reading, I hope you like it.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Like, at all.
Trigger Warning? Suicide in this chapter.
I Can See The Kites Fly
Chapter One: something like a hurricane
It's cold out. Dark. Rain driving down in sheets. It plasters my hair to my head, turning it from crimson to wine. The water drips in my eyes, blinding me, blurring my vision. Something more than a storm but less than a hurricane. A little like home, but less violent.
The steel steps beneath my feet are slick with water, the handrail like ice where it kisses my hand, and my feet sound like the hands of a clock with each step.
I slip, my feet slide out from underneath me – no friction when rain beats on steel. But my hand stays glued to the railing and I don't fall far. I hit my knee hard and maybe twist my ankle, but those are nothing. Nothing compared to what was. Nothing compared to what will be. Pain is easy when it's consistent.
I reach the roof. Wind has picked up, howling like a pack of wolves. It gets its fingers into the tendrils of my hair, tugs at them like it's all a game. It forces the rain to swat at my face harder, turning it into pinpricks instead of lazy caresses, stings my eyes, runs up my nose. Pain again. But pain is easy, at least. It's familiar, so it's somehow comforting.
And that should be ironic, shouldn't it? But who cares about irony or pain or wind or rain when you're on a rooftop at 1:45 in the morning in something resembling a hurricane, but less violent? I certainly don't. No one else does, and no one else should. This story will be over soon, anyway. One more chapter for the world to close. A chapter that no one would read, because tragedies are fun in stories but confronting in real life. And no one likes having their bubble burst.
It's 1:46 and I approach the edge of the rooftop. Clouds bruise the sky, and that's frustrating because I'd like a little light to see the road. Not even lightening. More irony, but it doesn't bother me. Death doesn't wait for things as trivial as the weather.
It's a nice sight, though. City lights fighting through the haze. It's like fireflies through a black-stained window. Clouds so dark I can't work out the colour – purple, blue, black, grey? I can see something like the city's silhouette, but can't quite make it out.
My name is Gaara, but that doesn't matter.
I'm twenty-one, but that doesn't matter either.
The rain smells clean. I'm three stories up, and I thought my heart would be beating harder than this. Isn't that what it's supposed to do? But I'm calm. Almost something resembling happy.
I breathe.
I smile.
I close my eyes and step into oblivion. The fall is short, gravity taking merciless hold, embracing me with invisible, unflinching, unforgiving arms. I greet it with something akin to serenity.
It's 1:47 on a night too violent to be a storm, but too calm to be a hurricane, when I fall from the roof of a three-story building. I breathe, I smile, and finally, thankfully, I die.
I feel like this will go something along the lines of The Blood of Ivory. As in, I have a basic concept of how this will pan out, but ideas are always welcome. Spontaneous updates, not particularly long chapters, etc. I think I update quicker if my chapters are shorter. And I like updating quickly for you guys. Makes you feel good, makes me feel good, win win. But I don't want to commit to this before Strength is done. Three more chapters, dammit!
As always, if you favourite this story, please leave a review. They're just nice. Motivation and stuff. Don't be mean, I'm only human.
All my love, Alia xoxo