Don't own Naruto, never will
This is a piece that kinda spiralled out of control. I was trying to write a companion piece for Say so little, say so much in Kyuubi's point of view, but it turned into a Kyuubi piece for Don't let history repeat itself. A bit weird, but I think it does ok as a piece of writing.
I never claimed to be a master of understanding the human mind, least of all his mind. That says plenty, considering that he has me caged up inside him.
He always had parts of his mind so dark that even I dared not venture there, which speaks volumes. The dark thoughts he pushed aside and never let anyone know about, the dark wishes that he'd never admit to having.
For twelve years his view of the world was mostly dark, with a few patches of light that came and went. The old man and the scarred teacher were the two most constant lights, although the old man and his daughter and the ramen stand were fairly frequent breaks from the darkness. Oh, and the plant he kept on his windowsill until it died when he was eleven…can't forget that thing.
Then things changed, new lights began to appear. The broody kid, the silver-haired guy, the pink haired girl…All the others too. They were lights that blocked out the darkness that he saw all the time. His smile became real, not that fake thing he'd always shown the world so they didn't see how hurt he was.
It seemed strange to me that they said cruel things and yet Naruto was so fond of them. I had to look again, to try and understand why he liked better the people who said cruel things than the people who said nothing to him.
It took me a while to figure out, but that trip to the island gave me a hint. The broody kid's body moved on its own…yeah, right. Bodies don't just move without some kind of stimulus, kid. I've been around long enough to know that much.
Finally I began to ignore the words, or lack thereof, and began to see what my host saw. It was the little things, the way the pink haired girl patched him up after thumping him or the way the pervert he called his sensei stole his ramen and replaced it with fruit and vegetables in his fridge, that he saw better than I ever had. For a kid, he was good at seeing who was honest and who wasn't.
He was very careful with what he said and didn't say, I realised. It was as if he wanted to keep his problems to himself all the time. He was a good kid, but he bottled up too much. Didn't think his troubles were worth telling others, even if they offloaded onto him all the time. That was my Naruto, and that was all there was to it.
As good as he was at picking what people didn't say, he took years to realise that the moon-eyed girl loved him. Started out as a schoolgirl crush, but that crush really grew into something more powerful. He was twenty when he realised it, and even then refused to act on it. Didn't want to drag her down with him, I guess. As much as those close to him adored my sunny jailer, there were a lot of people who still hated him.
He never told anyone the seal was weakening. With that "super pervert" gone there was no one to fix it properly, anyway. He simply warned me that if I tried to bust out then I'd die, since our chakra supplies were linked together. By that time, I had no desire to leave anyway. Life without my jailer was like the odd-eyed pervert without one of those orange books: never going to happen.
I'll admit, though, when he was told that he'd never be Hokage and decided to kill himself I didn't want to die. I didn't want him to die. I tried to save him, but he cut off my chakra supply so I couldn't heal him and stuck a kunai right between his ribs.
I realised, as he dug the kunai into his heart, that he'd done more than cut off my chakra: he'd released the last of the seal too. I could leave, or I could die. I thought it was my call. I couldn't bear the thought of living without him, sappy as that may sound, so I chose to stay. He had other plans, it seems, and used the last of his own chakra to form a kage bushin body for me until I could get to a safer place and recover my own body and chakra. He forced me out and into that body, never saying a word.
I'll admit it: I fled like a frightened kit. I heard his scarred sensei arrive and bolted out the window, fleeing Konoha. I never wanted to see that place again, because I'd be seeing it with my own eyes and not his. I liked his Konoha better than any I might see by myself, strange as that sounds.
What we don't say speaks louder than what we do say, and I truly spoke volumes as I fled Konoha and then Fire Country for Wave Country, where his legacy would always exist. I knew that I couldn't stay for long, but I watched the people there mourn for my jailer. The whiner, not that he was one anymore but to me he'd always be the whiner, asked his grandfather if Naruto would be better off in his next life than in this one. The old drunkard said yes, and that got me thinking. He'd be back in a hundred years or so, and I'd still be around then. It was an enticing prospect: to meet my jailer without being his prisoner.
I set about gathering the others up from where they'd fled to after the statue was destroyed, all nine of us would go into hiding together. Even Shukaku, the mad creature that he is, was eager to see his old host again. Nibi was itching to see Yugito, her girl, again in the future. Hopefully their lives would be better without us, next time.
Before we vanished into the secret place that only we can go, I went back to Konoha once to see how they were doing. It was quieter now, and I saw a few strange things. The bug boy attacked three drunkards who spoke ill of Naruto, the dog boy refused an ANBU scout, the pink-haired girl refused to leave Konoha and devoted her time to the hospital, the broody boy was accepted because of lies Naruto had woven so carefully while he was gone, their pervert sensei was the Hokage, and the others he called friends were struggling to come with the loss of their sunshine. Next time, I thought, they wouldn't lose him because of me.
They mourned for him, even when he'd wanted them to move on. He thought they'd mourn for a few weeks and then move on. He really underestimated his place in their hearts. They mourned him for the rest of their lives, I realised, and when I visited again years later I found the ring of graves that centred on his and the moon-eyed girl's. They all died within weeks of each other, leaving Konoha to whisper of suicide pacts. I think they all just gave up and were glad to move on to where their sunshine was waiting for them.
I left again and found a place nearby to rest for a while, the hurt from his death not as sharp as it used to be. Time heals all wounds, they say, but this wound would probably never fully heal. There will always be a scar on the heart I never knew I had, a spiral scar that will always sting a little.
So that explains why Kyuubi's alive when Naruto's not. I'll work it into the actual story eventually, but this is Kyuubi doing the talking so it's going to have details and points that don't come up in the story or at all. Maybe I'll elaborate on a few of these points in the actual story...
So? What do you think?
Reviews are like chocolate: sweet when you get them, but not necessary.