Summary: Sasuke leaves and Naruto no longer has a reason to hold back. He's slipping away, and it won't be long before he fades completely. One-shot.
A/N: Just a little one-shot on Naruto's thoughts and feelings. It may be a little hard to follow, but it's supposed to be that way. This is his mind after all, it's not supposed to be clear cut story-telling.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Just toying with the characters a bit.
Naruto had suspected it was coming. From the very beginning -- the very first time the tempting whispers of power had brushed his mind – he'd feared that it would end up this way. The red chakra was taking over. Recently, during training, his jutsus had taken on a violet hue, leaning more towards red than his normal blue chakra. That wasn't the worst of it. He'd woken in the middle of the night, trapped in nightmares of memories that weren't even his. When he'd gone to the bathroom to splash some water on his flushed face, the eyes that met his in the mirror were feral and crimson, with a black slash of a pupil in the middle. The thin walls of his apartment hadn't quite muffled his screams.
The blond shinobi had been frightened of the beast inside him at first, but that hadn't stopped him from insolently demanding it lend him its power. He had been young back then, innocent and naïve in thinking that good always conquered evil. It was the same bold confidence that led him to believe that the villagers would come to accept him. That he could actually be Hokage. Gods knew that dream was long gone.
Since the day Naruto had stood outside the tall metal gates and stared up at taunting, slitted red eyes, the demon had lent him power many times. Sometimes all he needed was a little boost to give him an edge over his opponent. His eyes would eventually fade back to blue, and Naruto would sigh in relief every time. On other occasions, the fox demon got to get out for a while, relishing in the taste of being almost, almost, free. But only on three occasions had it actually seized some amount of control over its host.
The first time the Kyuubi had taken over, it had been because someone had killed his best friend. His one true friend. He'd believed him to be dead, and the grief and terror and rage in that moment was nothing compared to that of the villagers' hate he'd suffered through all his life. He'd welcomed the alluring voice that convinced him to just let go, let the numbness swarm over him. He didn't remember much of what happened next, but the feeling of stepping back, letting someone infinitely stronger and smarter and powerful take control stayed with him.
The second time, it was when that same friend had betrayed him, left him to face the tears that came with broken promises and failed missions and shattered bonds. Abandoned and betrayed, just like all the other times. Only this time it was Sasuke hurting him: his rival and friend and brother. He refused to be left behind again, not this time. Naruto couldn't stand it. If he couldn't stop his friend from leaving, from giving into the darkness that licked like black flames at his heart, than how on earth could he stop himself from relinquishing control to the demon? If he couldn't save Sasuke, than how could save himself?
The third time he almost lost control, he'd been facing up against that snake bastard, the one who'd stolen his friend away. Glaring into those flat, golden eyes—seeing him laugh, jeer, and boast about his best friend and brother and rival—Naruto lost it. That time, instead of demanding the chakra to help him win, it had burst from him on its own in waves, lapping higher and higher and higher over his head until he was coughing, choking, drowning—
Swimming.
He was floating, basking in the power as he pounded the snake relentlessly into the dirt where he belonged. And if the others hadn't chosen that moment to rip him away from that tempting source of numbness, he knew he could have kept on until the snake was ripped to shreds. Only afterward did the regret creep up on him, the guilt once he saw the wound he'd blindly inflicted on his teammate. But even then, if he was being absolutely true to himself, the pull of that forbidden power still lurked in his thoughts. Naruto had never gotten up the nerve to tell anyone that if they hadn't stopped him that day, he just might have caved.
The three years his friend was gone, they were all spent training and pushing his limits. He was determined, no matter, what to bring his friend back. After three years of wrestling for control and dominance of the demon that prowled right under his skin, right inside his mind, he'd thought he'd grown stronger. Strong through his own means, through his own power and his own chakra. And he had.
But it wasn't enough. Not enough to convince his friend he was right, to get him to notice, to acknowledge, to see that Naruto had been right beside him the entire time. The hopes and dreams and plans, fueled by unfaltering determination and faith, they were all that kept him moving forward.
It was that last encounter that did it.
After three long, tortuous years, he saw his friend. He stood motionless, paralyzed, as he stared. When that friend met his eyes, met his shocked gaze, Naruto saw the person he had become. He heard that cold, disdainful voice tell him calmly and simply that he was nothing to him, nothing at all. Once rivalry and friendship and brotherhood, now meaningless distraction. A distraction to get rid of, to kill, to toss to the side. Those words cut him deep, slashed him wide open when he'd thought he had no more blood to bleed. Naruto looked back into those eyes, those distant, uncaring black eyes and just felt tired.
It wasn't that he'd given up, not really. He was just . . . done. Finished with his lot. He'd tried and failed and tried again so many times that he couldn't keep track. Just this once, he wanted to rest after being knocked to the ground—who knew, maybe the ground was softer than it seemed. For once, he didn't feel like tacking on a grin to make everyone think he wasn't slowly crumbling to pieces.
Looking into the eyes of the one who was once his best friend, Naruto realized he didn't care that he was about to be killed. He'd accepted his fate, seen his death in the eyes of the person who was still precious to him, and couldn't view it as murder. He'd thought of finally not having to feel; not feeling the pain or hurt or anger or betrayal, and it appealed to him. There was a certain closure to dying by the hand of that person. He'd come to terms with it, taken a deep breath, and was ready to die—only to have the others step in yet again, meddle with the way things should have been.
Then he had to watch, all over again, as the one who had once been his friend turned his back and walked away.
It was like all that time, all those years, had been wasted. And for what? It hadn't done him any good. He was still too weak, too far behind.
Maybe that was why he was losing control. It had always been a fear of his, that he wouldn't be able to stuff the Kyuubi back down after accepting its power. Naruto couldn't deny all that power was intoxicating. He felt he could do anything when the fox demon lent him chakra. It was addicting, like a drug. Most of all, it was numbing. When he thought of the death that had been robbed from him, the nothingness that he'd been so close to, he felt cheated.
After Sasuke left, and refused to come home, there was nothing to hold him back. It wasn't to say he didn't try, putting valiant effort into keeping the Kyuubi at bay for the sake of the others, but his heart wasn't in it anymore. Sasuke was his anchor, his reason to keeping pushing and prove himself. When the only person whose opinion mattered left him in the dust, why bother? Even the remainder of his team wasn't enough to bolster his efforts. The days passed, fading into one another with no significance. Even his spirit weakened, the stirrings of the Kyuubi as it tried to break free grew stronger. Sasuke was no longer there to keep him sane, and it took its toll.
So now, as the blond stands staring in the mirror, he isn't bothered when cerulean blue eyes bleed to crimson. He doesn't stifle the sadistic feelings bubbling up through him. Why should he go on like this, keeping up a smile when he feels like screaming? There is nothing for him. He already knows he is losing. The one called Uzumaki Naruto is fading fast, almost gone. He might as well just... let... go...
Naruto has done a wonderful job of keeping his slip-ups a secret. No one knows but him and the Kyuubi. No one in Konoha realizes that there was monster among them now. They won't find out until he slaughters every one of them, grinning his savage smile as they die staring at their comrade's maniacally red eyes.
The blood staining his hands gleams in the moonlight. The creature lifts a finger, mesmerized at the drop of blood that slid down its length. He is perched quite happily atop the Hokage's tower, surveying his handiwork with crimson eyes that shine with satisfaction. Corpses lay strewn across the village. The place that hasn't been his home for three years, he destroys it himself. Everyone who has ever hurt him is dead.
But something pushes incessantly at his thoughts, and memories surface of a raven-haired boy with an arrogant smirk and cold eyes. Rage strikes him hot and fast, and clawed hands tear a section of the roof off to banish the image. It is enough to remind him, though. There is sill another alive that has caused him pain. More pain, in fact, than the all rest put together.
The demon snarls with fangs that reach past his lips, and springs with vulpine grace across rooftops and out of the silent village. This time, those feral eyes will not be fading back to blue.