It was early morning; dawn's gentle sun had just begun to kiss the mountain tops. I watched, transfixed, as the sun, surrounded in various shades of yellow and grays and pinks and oranges slowly blanketed the landscape outside my window with warm light. It was the light warmth that woke me from a shallow sleep, and when my eyes opened, for a moment, everything was perfect. The scenery outside my window had made me forget of the cold, smooth and untouched sheets beside me, the neat night nightstand, the tiny bathroom, the dark hallway, the quiet living room, the empty kitchen, the lonely house. Reality slowly crawled its way back to me, and I remember what I have come to accept as my everyday life. Throughout the act of living, whether it is in the lone toothbrush in my bathroom, the sheets hung out to dry in the sun or the empty mailbox, loneliness piles up. It was barely tangible at first, but as time went by, it piled up in sleepless days.
That loneliness is what always drove me to carelessly dive into a lake of ice-cold water in the midst of sunrise, without any regards for my health. The bitter cold felt like millions of thin needles piercing my skin, and for another while, the numbness it provided helped me overlook what awaits me every time I rise above water.
It wasn't always like this though. My mornings didn't use to be lonely and cold and spent in an icy lake. I wasn't sad like this before. I had a happy life, a happy marriage and a happy home, and in the blink of an eye, I lost it all. My beloved was young, smart, strong and loving. Courageous and kind, yet there was always this little feeling that ate away at his heart, this little black stain that spread throughout his very soul. I close my eyes now, remembering that fateful day. I remember we were sitting on the porch steps with colorful wool blankets draped on our shoulders and steaming coffee mugs to keep us warm from the November breeze. His eyes, a beautiful pair of cobalt orbs, looked through our land and beyond the horizon; his gaze was lost in time and memories. He suddenly faced me and that he believed he grew to be boring, that time had made him stale and desolate. "All I want is to find that something inside of me no one can keep. I want to find something that no one can ever take away from me and do as they please…", that's what he always said to me, but never managed to explain what that something was. I don't think he could even tangibly define it. One day, I got a glimpse of that something, just a glimpse…
The kitchen had an inviting aroma of fresh brewing coffee, when Naruto stepped out from our bedroom and sat at the table that morning. I glanced over my shoulder after a few minutes of unusual silence. He was completely disheveled. His normally tidy hair was a messy mop of blond locks, his shirt wrinkled and seemingly buttoned with awkward haste, with a few buttons misplaced, his feet were missing his leather boots and his gaze was cloudy and unfocused. He looked as if he had just awakened from a night of drinking.
"Is something wrong?" I asked. "The only time you look this broodingly messy is on Mondays."
Naruto was looking out the small window on the far side wall. He only cast a quick glance my way before his eyes returned to gaze toward the window.
"Naruto?" I asked again. His eyes shifted from the window to me. Or so I thought. Normally I would feel the weight of his look, this time it seems he is looking right through me, avoiding my eyes.
"I…" He decided to speak then, and with a soft voice. …"You know? Life these days has become so, bleak? It's as if my life is playing in slow motion, while the world keeps going. I feel like I'm being left behind. It's as if I am the only one who remembers"
"I don't think—"
"Of course you don't…" He interrupted. At the sight of slight hurt, he added "Even if it's with you, this conversation is impossible. No matter how I say it, it won't make sense."
Yes. The war against Madara has been raging on for years, and we have lost so many of us. The rookie nine is no more; the only ones remaining are Naruto, Shikamaru, Kakashi, Ino and I. All of our friends died in battle, unleashing all their strength until the very end to protect our village. Sasuke and Sakura died like heroes to us, but that could never stop or lessen Naruto's pain. He changed so much after that. As I look at him now, I finally admit to myself something I have known for a very long time. Naruto has been broken and emptied by grief, blinded by death and self-hatred and I cannot save him from that. And he knows this.
"You won't know until you try." I whispered. I had hoped he would open up to me about what has been troubling him for so long. At night, I would feel him shift and sigh endlessly; Naruto has not slept for days and if there was anyone who could understand him, it would be me. I also lost my team, my sensei, my cousin Neji and his team, and my entire family was also defeated. Yes, my grief could very well compare to his, and I could only hope that he could see that, and somehow draw strength from me; my company, my understanding and my love for him.
"…It's just that, all of this seems rather hopeless, doesn't it? Years have gone by already, and I've done nothing that could stop the war, and our people just keep dying! I can't help but wonder, are any of us here going to last long enough to make a difference in the world? My intentions, actions, movements...If I don't take my chance it'll be over. Everything's over. I feel like such a useless person." he gave me another glance, looking like a lost child before a grin spread across his lips and lit his face beautifully.
Knowing where those intimidating thoughts came from, I returned the smile and gave him a cup of coffee; it always made him stop doing anything, just to savor the bitterness of the liquid. I was secretly hoping that it could somehow draw him away from his darkening thoughts. After all this time, I wonder if Naruto has even let me touch even a small part of his heart. I have loved him, I have given all that I could to him in hopes that he would let me in. But after Sasuke and Sakura's death were known, he only pushed me away. Even after all this time, he has never let me in, he continues to push me away. Sometimes, I could not help but wonder if my love for him and his for me where two very different things.
"I never could have won against Sakura, could I?"
Not once did he look at me that day, not once.
After that he just kept acting as if nothing ever happened, so I did the same. Something was changing, but for some reason I pretended I could not see it. I was afraid that I would push him to a place from which there is no return. One day, in a quest to change his life, he left to follow, ironically, a life full of death. His ANBU team woke up to his scream one night, when their campsite was attacked and he fought to save his comrades. He was burned and beheaded. I cried so much for him. I lost the one I loved, and he lost the chance to meet his son; he lost the chance to even know his progeny lived inside me.
The news of his loss came to us three months after his death as his ANBU team trudged, oozing blood and carrying the scent of death, walked through the gates of Konoha.
One peaceful and chilly Friday morning in October, everything seemed to change. I had woken up with a slight feeling of dread that morning, but I thought nothing of it. I wish I would have. I was hanging out the laundry to dry outside, the sky was as clear as a summer day and I was certain the sheets would dry fast enough for us to use for a picnic when Naruto came home today. I cast a glance to the road when I heard the growing murmurs of a forming crowd in the distance. My son Taiyou also heard it; he sprang out from his place beside me and ran to the gates, tapping his feet impatiently against the ground. Taiyou grew up only hearing stories of his father, and he was more than eager to finally meet the man who he resembled in so many ways. When the figures came closer, we saw the teams. As I recognized the shinobi, the same dreadful feeling from before returned. My eyes widened in horror when I saw my husband was not with them. This did not discourage Taiyou at all though.
One of the shinobi, wearing a hawk mask limped up to me as he pulled something out of his leg pouch. He presented me with a slightly bloodstained and wrinkled envelope. He also handed me a small box. "It's all we could recover. I am sorry Hinata-sama, the Hokage is dead." He whispered in my ear. I felt the air leave my lungs as a thousand punches landed in my stomach and my heart turned to stone. Oh God please tell me it isn't so. Please tell me this is all some kind of joke, and Naruto will appear out of nowhere with his silly grin and say it was all a joke. Naruto…as much as I call your name, this voice will not reach you.
"Mom, let's go in so we can see it together." Taiyou said as he walked towards me. He ran to the house and continued to usher me in. What will I tell him? What should I do? Suddenly all of my feelings seem to be overflowing, but I can't let him see me cry. What should I do, Naruto?
"I'm coming, give me a second." My voice was strained and smothered by this overwhelming grief. I steel myself and pray I do not cry in front of Taiyou as I walk back home. Be strong Hinata, you can cry all you want when you're alone. I said to myself over and over again with every step I took. I trudged back inside and Taiyou was already waiting in the table for me, with a big grin adorning his young face. My heart constricted; he looked so much like his father when he did that. An image of Naruto sitting at his favorite Ramen shop, waiting with an eager grin flashed through my mind.
"Let me open it, I'll read it". I said with a strong and calm voice, trying not to let my voice sound as broken as I feel. This horrible feeling inside is eating away at me. Just before coming inside I saw the Hokage's seal on a corner of the envelope. The moment I saw Naruto's usually neat handwriting so incredibly messy, I knew this letter was not as nice as Taiyou thinks. I could also tell this blood was his. I have never seen any other blood as crimson as Naruto's. A crimson so deep it could be mistaken for an alluring black.
He crossed his arms and gave me a little pout. "I want to open it!" He grumbled.
I gave him a hard stare, and naturally he stopped complaining. After I read the letter, even though I already knew what it would say, I told Taiyou to go to his room. The letter's message went straight to the point. He was dead. He burned to death trying to save his comrades. He was beheaded by the enemy and carried as a trophy. He was not coming back. The box contained only a few of his personal belongings; his headband, his kunai pouch, a small, burned photo of us at the spring festival as teenagers, the necklace Tsunade-sama gave him all those years ago and his wedding ring.
Hours later, after I cried my heart out and thought on how I could find the words to tell Taiyou, I left my room to see I did not have to worry about that in specific anymore. Taiyou was at the table, letter in hand, box in the floor with all its contents around him, and silent tears streaming from his pretty, shocked blue eyes. He did not understand, or did not want to understand, he was just a child. He said he would always wait for him.
After the loss of Naruto, Taiyou withdrew from me, and kept mostly to himself, staying most of the time in his room, or at the gate waiting for any signs of a tall blond man. As time went by, I sometimes saw him standing on the hill, heartbroken, facing the sun, not a man, not a boy, but fatherless one. Before I knew it, he was a grown man in love, and in the name of love he married and worked for his new family. Nothing too dangerous, he took my place as Hokage of the village. That same job that made him so happy was the one who took him away. He had been checking up on some files after informing me he thought there was a spy in the village, and he was stabbed with a kunai dipped in poison. All along, it was his best friend, who, in all my hatred I killed.
It's amazing really, how you can lose everything in the blink of an eye. I had realized it far too late, too late to stop my husband from leaving and too late to tell Taiyou to stay at home with his wife. All these thoughts, these memories left me the instant I was engulfed by the icy waters. The need of air drove me to the surface again, and when I did, like every morning, I gazed at the horizon, the evergreen scenery that my boys loved so much. They'd be so happy to see that pine tree Naruto had planted so long ago now stood proud facing the sun. I can't help to cry. That sky the three of us looked up at doesn't exist anymore. I catch a glimpse of myself in the water. I barely recognize this image of me.
Looking at my reflection now, things finally came into focus, and I admit that I am in unbearable pain, and I had fallen into that slough I had so desperately tried to avoid. I am ashamed, knowing my heart had gradually lost its freedom and flexibility in bygone days. Today, faced with these bittersweet memories of my most precious people when I leave the waters, I finally see that I had completely lost my earnest and acute feelings from long ago, I am at my limit. I had forgotten to be strong, I had forgotten to be brave and to fight for those I love; whether I am fighting for a person or a memory does not matter as much as the actual decision to fight for them.
"The thing about memories is that they get beautified over time, don't they?" I whispered.
Like Taiyou said in his father's grave one time:
"I will embrace these memories closely, the days of joy and the meaning of living, one day we'll march forward, fearless and looking forward to tomorrow. The war will end, mother, because his sacrifice was not in vain."
"That's right." I whispered again. My breath is almost visible from the cold. "This love; these memories, they are a precious story that sleeps in the depths of my heart to this day…"
Even though it all seems dark now, alone or not, I have a road to walk ahead of me. "The thing is to remember that even if we're all alone, then we're all together in that too. Right, mother?" I must carry on living, if not for me, then for them, so they can see how much they mean to me, and when we meet again, we'll walk together with smiles, regretless. I will end this war. I will end this suffering and all of this death.
"…Shared by you and me."
Believe it.