A/N: hello, new multi-chap fic. The writing style is different because it's definitely more serious. But I'm still only writing less than half assed because skool's been buggin' man. Hope you like it because it's fun to write (:
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Alli̱lopátheia
Greek for "Mutual Suffering."
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Author: N. a. i. K. i. r. e. i. Y. u. k. i
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"Shame isn't a load; but it breaks necks."
-Old Caribbean Saying
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"There's a hero
If you look inside your heart
You don't have to be afraid
Of what you are"
-Mariah Carey, Hero
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Summary: If it was possible to share claim of all the turmoil and misery of another-would you? Depends. Try not having a choice in the matter. SasuNaru.
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Warnings; Topics of: Suicide/death.
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Prolouge
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The Brooklyn Bridge December 12, 2010.
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Half Past Midnight.
His long chestnut hair swished in the wind shamelessly-shamefully-as silver eyes roamed the below freezing water.
He had to do this, no exceptions, no excuses. Tonight was the night.
Cars drove past, oblivious of what he was close to executing on the arms of the bridge.
Balanced on the edge, the rubber soles of his shoes were set steadily on the concrete and prepared for the inevitable. Even wrapped in his new priceless Gucci leather jacket, he could still feel the wisps of the wind. Priceless, ha... More like worthless. He didn't care about these things anyhow; his material items didn't console him like he initially believed they would. Shopping trip after shopping trip left him feeling emptier than the first. His career didn't even touch the gaping void he could feel without any soul searching. The bitter cold nibbled at his fingers. He clenched them once in a failed attempt to get them the least bit warmer before his sweet departure. He didn't want them finding a completely cold, dilapidated corpse. He at least wanted his body to be somewhat presentable to his fellow funeral goers.
His breath escaped from his lungs, a large cloud collecting around his cool, pale skin as his heart slammed against his ribcage. He clenched his mouth tightly, his teeth chattering violently from the frigid temperatures. The somber night assaulted his senses as he felt icy tears glide down his flushed cheeks. He was pretty sure that had it been any colder, his streaming tears would have frozen against his flushed face. It would have served as a solid reminder of why he was here what he was doing.
"Father," He whispered faintly, his words being whisked away in the cold wind.
When his father died, it felt as if the entire world froze under his feet, never to thaw again.
After his mother's illness robbed her of her vitality, then her sanity, then her peace of mind, next her life, he and his father had become life lines to one another, dialing one another's heart lines when the other was close to dissolving under the weight of agony and grief. He had loved his mother with the passion of a thousand suns and she had left him and his father without an aforementioned goodbye. She must have known. They always know.
The pent up regret and bitterness he harbored towards himself for not taking those extra few minutes to pick up the phone or schedule to spend bit of extra time was stirring within him and creating a delicious recipe for disaster.
As his father aged and became more senile he tried to remain more aware and less immersed in the family industries but he failed all the same.
He simply just stepped out to get his father wasabi. It was his favorite.
In the supermarket, he received the phone call that his father was gone.
He was absolutely devastated. He had felt trapped in the cycle of destiny, caged at its mercy. The torments of life were bound to befall him once more. He was certain of it. And he wasn't going to allow it to happen again.
"Don't do it." The small voice almost drifted away in the wind but it managed the tickle the man's ears with it's whispers. He felt a lose grip situate at the base of his ankles as it tugged at him urgently. "Your father wouldn't want you to do this. He would want you to find love and peace in his passing, not sorrow and anger. Even though you've lost them both, you can still find someone to give your love to. "
The dark haired man stilled and looked down to an unfamiliar mop of blond hair and a pair calm of eyes with a twinkle of desperation and imploration.
"He would want you to realize the extent of your absurdity, perched on a bridge about to waste your life just because he's no longer with you." The stranger sighed, looking out into the dark, chilly dancing waves, then back up to the puzzled man. "Death's not the end, ya know? He's not upset that you never said goodbye. If there is anyone on Earth who knows your heart it's your father. And he can feel your love beyond the grave because your bond is that strong. The question is, can you feel his?" Understanding assaulted the man's chest. Of course he could feel his father smiling down on him from heaven on sunny days and cloudy days alike.
Somehow it felt like it was his own selfishness, not to mention childishness that had propelled him to this point in his life-to the point of giving it up. His own cowardice had taken the driver's seat and steered him to this foolish solution.
Silver eyes journeyed again to the smaller man at his feet settled at the bridge's ridge. Who was this man and how did he gain the keys to his heart?
Fresh tears spilled on the cold cheeks. "Y-yes I can." He struggled to admit his own epiphany.
"Then, please, come down." The blond man tugged on his ankles again, his tone soothing the inner turmoil dwelling in the other man, lulling it to sleep.
"Besides, it's cold as fuck out here." The mysterious man gave a dry chuckle as he helped him down from his stance. "You'd turn into a popsicle before you even hit the water."
The brunet couldn't help but realize how good it felt to be planted on solid ground not dangling by a spilt second decision. He was going to be a floating brick in the water but this male had come along and talked him down. They had no previous associations with each other and surely weren't friends. He wasn't even sure he had ever even seen him before. But yet, this man possessed the barrage of words necessary for him to belittle his own antics and have the vital moment of clarity he needed to resolve the pain and start the healing. The bewilderment was beginning to well then consume his thoughts.
When did he found him? How was he able to pinpoint the birth of his ambiguity? And how was he able to become his confidence? The man had to be some type of profit or a messiah. That's the only... the only way.
"Thanks," the male muttered as he beamed at the shaken man.
He wished to ask the man the series of questions lingering in his head, but his apprehension caused heated arrows to launch into his throat and he couldn't voice a single one.
He could see from the temporary flashes of car headlights that the man was handsome. By the smile lighting his sharp features, he concluded that he was definitely a sweet, kindred spirit. But he still couldn't make out what exactly what color his eyes were.
"What's your name?" The bright haired man asked.
"Uh, Neji." he stammered wrapping his expensive jacket tighter, trying to warm up.
"Neji?" He felt the name on his tongue. The tall man nodded in confirmation. "Well, Neji, I'm Naruto and it's nice to meet you. If you ever need anything—" Naruto reached into his pocket and pulled out a gel pen.
He snatched Neji's hand away from his person and wrote something down carefully, slowly, waiting for light to accumulate, concerned about the legibility.
"Call me if you ever need anything, okay?" He urged holding Neji's hand, endearingly.
Still dumbfounded by the entire occurrence, Neji nodded fervently.
The night sky was shards of rich amethyst and the clouds were strips of delicate cotton candy—tangible. It almost caused Neji to wonder how he could have so easily relieved himself of life's simple pleasures. So much that he hadn't seen, hadn't done.
Naruto left Neji with a tender smile, hurrying off in a nocturnal strut.
Thank God Naruto bestowed him with a moment of his spare time.
It saved his life.
His faith had been restored in the miracle of life and he had a reprieve. He intended to display how grateful he was for his second chance.
With another brilliant flash of light, Neji saw the name and phone number in messy cursive handwriting and thought He'd definitely be calling.
888
Chapter 1.
Mark The Measure Up.
888
The sun grinned through the thick wooden blinds, making Naruto wish he could revert back to his terrible twos and frolic in the frigid air with the bright sun when things were so carefree. Instead, he was trapped wrestling with his paperwork of the day.
No one could say that his wasn't dedicated to his career—involvement in humanitarian facilities were conducted by trial and error and could be particularly stressful. Especially at a place like the Ford Foundation in Manhattan. It still astounded him every day that he was employed at one of the most lucrative charity centers on the planet. Sure, he felt blessed, but he saw it more of an opportunity to aid people that were less fortunate than himself. He loved engaging in projects that were more kinesthetic, like going to benefits, visiting shelters, and interacting with the needy themselves. Hell, he preferred that instead of boring desk work with all the accompanying forms. It just seemed so impersonal.
His special abilities always nagged at him for a good portion of the day, making the experience of even going to work— or anywhere—extremely difficult and tiresome.
Naruto was granted—cursed—with the ability to feel everyone's emotional pain from the moment he was born. To add sprinkles to the ice cream, he could usually hear their predicaments in his head through their heart. According to his deduction from stories his Godfather Jiraya and godmother Tsunade had told him, his mother had had a similar condition that plagued her throughout her lifetime. The bizarre capabilities seemed to only intensify as the generational ancestry line progressed. He had never heard of any explained causes of the Uzumaki's natural affinity and lingering attachment to human emotions, causing Naruto to classify it as paranormal. Scientific investigation could never discover the initial source of his condition since it had lasted centuries.
It didn't bother him that the pulsations he received were stronger than those before him. It only meant he needed to go to greater lengths to suppress the pain. He always carried painkillers on his person in case the pain spells became excruciatingly immobilizing. Sometimes, he had to just sit down. The nausea was so cumbersome his vision blurred, his stomach lurched painfully and his pores felt like they were boiled in acid. Usually the symptoms just consisted of pain in his chest and constantly being on the verge of tears. Though he had gotten used it, and become slightly numb to the ill effects, it still affected him immensely.
Naruto had prior knowledge—from personal experience—that insecurities, inner suffering, and personal failings constructed one's personality, but he had no idea how much society allowed it to burden their daily conscience. He tried to bury his past subconsciously. He shoved the memories that bothered him during the day and night as far to the back of his mind as possible.
It was an odd gift that had some beneficial moments, He could almost always tell when someone wasn't being straight with him or just blatantly deceiving him. After all, the heart never lies.
He could offhandedly read the negativity of any person's past off their sleeves and the black tinge on their present just by being in close proximity. It helped him decide if a certain individual's intentions were pure or not.
He accepted that he wasn't normal however—he tried to not to allow that fact to penetrate his skin.
For the rest of his life, he wanted to use the sixth sense to empathize with people who just needed that one person to understand them.
Like he wished someone had done for him.
He would be content with doing just that.
888
Naruto arrived at his apartment door from the train station late that afternoon. He was working the late shift because his work partner, Kiba, was on a two week long trip to Ethiopia on a development project to begin a democratic government movement. Last time, Naruto made the amazing venture to Kenya. Kiba had been the one to stay behind and transfer the paperwork information into the mainframe in his place. He was raised to be a man of courtesy and he was showing that now by returning the favor to his friend.
He was glad he had finally stopped procrastinating and taken the time to shop for the new wardrobe on America Avenue. He was pretty sure the damn cold weather prevented him from going sooner.
Naruto set the large sets of paper bags in the hallway at the door giddy to try on the new garments.
He was still burned with elation about changing that 'Neji' character's direction in life and convincing him to come down from that ledge in a matter of minutes, early this morning. It was a personal best for him. The edges of his lips curled at the mere thought. He just hoped that after his departure, the long haired man found the solace he needed to stop hopping on bridge's edges as a solution. Maybe he would call and Naruto could oversee his treatment and recovery. Yes, he would like that very much.
He dug into his black slacks for his third floor apartment keys. He growled when the crumbled receipts cluttered his pockets and stopped him from finding them quickly as he had originally hoped.
A sharp pang of pressure knocked the breath from the blond male and he knew—
"Would you mind moving your shit out of the hallway so I can get by?" A sophisticatedly woven smooth silken but patronizing tone just to his right caused the tan man to glance at the source of the disturbance.
A tall man with dark soft spiked tendrils bundled in an expensive black cotton coat; a paper white complexion and cold, hard silver eyes glanced next to his apartment door.
Normally, he would call the man's unwarranted rude behavior disgusting but he could feel the sorrowful, disconcerted surges charging through his own body.
This man's family—from what he could see—they were dead.
Naruto froze, looking at the increasingly angry male from under his dark lashes.
Feeling a sense of mockery and disrespect from the blond, he gritted his teeth, who was hindering him from getting to his own residence,. He unlocked his jaw to reiterate his initial forceful request to Naruto.
"It's not your fault. You know that, right?" Naruto wiggled his studded nose trying to disregard the pounding he felt against his skull.
"What?" The man jerked back as he swallowed the lump in his throat.
"Your family. You shouldn't feel guilty about what happened to them," Naruto clarified.
The vulnerability of the mysterious tyrant could be felt on the tips of Naruto's toes.
The pale features were as stiff as the statue of liberty—eyes widened, mouth slightly hanging open.
His brother, he—
Naruto couldn't catch the rest of the sensation as the fleeting moment ended with the man clamming up.
His face hardened to stone and he scoffed. "Shut the fuck up. You don't know anything." He snarled, pushing past the bags.
Naruto watched his retreating back in wonder. He felt relief enter his body but it didn't sate his curiosity. Pieces of the story were jumbled and garbled, some of it even lost in translation, but he got the big picture. Whoever that man was, he was clearly suffering from the brutal murder of his parents.
No one had ever helped him.
He looked down and realized his key had been in his hand for a while.
The dark haired man walked away, incessantly chewing at his lip, fighting the temptation to turn back to the presumptuous blond. He knew nothing of the Uchiha heritage and all that came with the territory. He should have cracked his fist right into the other's eye socket when he suggested to him which feelings he needed to feel.
His uncertainty was building and the feeling wasn't subsiding. He couldn't help but take a second glance back.
Naruto's shoved the cold metal into the door knob without a second thought.
Naruto almost didn't feel the desire to move any faster as he felt those shiny marbles on him.
888
End Transmission.
Tell me if you like and If I should go hard or go home on with this one ]x
i'll update again soon, if you feed my beast because she's always hungry (:
Well, again, thanks for reading. Kisses. Love you.
NotBeautifulSnow*