The light was dim. The world was loud. A nightmare... He breathed, feeling his face being wet, feeling his blood trickling down it, feeling that his mad episodes were not ending, that it felt too real and he couldn't move, couldn't run, couldn't... He was laying there, breathing faintly, not seeing, not wondering. Cold mist engulfed him, made him feel chilly and dizzy, while his backpack was (where?) and his meds were (what?) while he felt a knife...

His knife was laying just a moment from him. He moved his fingers faintly, slowly, felt the cold metal. Ouch. It stung. He hurt himself. The blood was real. It was all too freaking real. He slowly felt more, grabbed the knife by its sharp part... And then something hit him, made him yell out of pain, fly, tumble, hit the ground, no! No! (hit) No! (pain) No!...

(reality)

'Oh gods!' he cried 'Oh gods! I'm alive!'

He was.

He scrambled on his knees, grabbed his pencil which tore off from his things, tried to get up and he couldn't, because it was all bloody and he felt pain and he didn't know and... He fell on his face.

Shrill howling around him. Creatures were fighting. He felt his meds jingling in his pocket. He couldn't move. He gripped his knife tightly, feeling it cut his skin deep and saw it blooding his fingers and dripping on the street and he couldn't move. The pain didn't help this time. Drip.

The sand monster gaped at the absurdity of something stopping him from squishing the Fire foxes puny little human. Then he was gaping at the fox itself. The fox. The fox had stopped, the fox tore at him –no pain, no hurt, he was in his lands- but… so was the fox. THE FOX WAS IN HIS LANDS, WITH THE HUMAN? The raccoon howled his rage, and attacked the trespasser, sand crawling up its legs and threatening to crush it.

#+#+#+#+#+#

Naruto didn't know what the hell was happening anymore, only that by some miracle the two monsters were fighting each other now and had let him go… and that if he didn't move from here, they might crush him. He was going to run somewhere when what he had originally thought was a dead body moaned something and moved, and he realized that all that red on his head wasn't blood, but his hair.

He barely dodged a metal trashcan that went sailing past him and crashed against an abandoned car, and without pausing to think about it, Naruto dashed for the red-haired person and quickly dragged him from the immediate zone of disaster, pausing only long enough to throw an arm over his shoulder and start running as well as dragging a semi-conscious person made it possible.

He dodged, feeling the movement behind him. His human was running away along with the second one. He couldn't follow. THE him wouldn't allow this. Didn't matter. They had time. A lot of time... 'Shukaku' he snarled in an offended tone 'I'm Kyuubi!' The second sentence was said in a proud tone. he didn't need many words to get through here. Not many understood the talk. Wasn't really needed. Now.

(since then till now)

Maybe later. Maybe.

#+#+#+#+#+#

He felt he was being lifted and he felt that somebody started dragging him along the street, making him move, making his cold and void of feeling feet move... it was more painful than knife he held so tightly he didn't know if he hadn't damaged his hand permanently. He tried looking at the stranger and wondered if it wasn't another strange creature, but all he saw was some blond guy with mad gashes on his cheeks. The shrilly howls and yells slowly were getting further and further away, so he felt that the danger hadn't followed them.

'Where are we going?...' he asked, his voice crisp and crackled. The mist didn't allow him to see anything. The blood in his eyes was not helping. 'My bag... I have to get back...'

He had everything there. Everything. Food, documents, money, clothes... He couldn't just leave it like that. 'My bag... my bag' he muttered, knowing that he had to get back and yet he hasn't got strength to let go of the strange person 'My bag...'

Naruto really was going quite fast for someone carrying another person of similar height and weight, especially when said person wasn't doing anything at all to help. The wonders of adrenaline, he supposed. That same adrenaline was making him aware of the fact the person that had apparently had his face town in half was talking, even if the meaning of his words escaped him completely.

His lungs were too busy doing odd things to his ears to allow him to make much sense. He had lost what seemed to be a bucketful of blood from his cheeks alone, if the mostly red-dyed shirt was anything to go by, but he felt perfectly fine, or as fine as someone that had been mauled by a wolf-rabbit creature from hell could feel. In fact, his mind had acquired a shirt cups of clarity like only monks that have reached true enlightment could have, and that clarity told him to get the fuck out of there.

Too bad the clarity didn't seem to be in the mood to work with his vision, because all he saw were off, ominous shapes that thankfully weren't moving and he supposed might be cars and buildings, but for all he could distinguish could be the carcasses of Lovecraftian horrors. The milky whiteness extended everywhere.

'What the hell is this place…?' he whispered, trying to find something, anything that would help him find something to be able to help him determine his exact location. He wasn't sure he wasn't running in the direction the monsters had been in anymore, there was just white and shapes and more rolling, lolling cold whiteness that made his skin damp and cool.

Slowing down, he risked starting to walk to one of the sides of the street and see if he could find somewhere that would hopefully hint at more human life than the disfigured person he was dragging around. This place couldn't be completely inhabited, right? Why would he be here in that place…? For some reason that question made him want to pull his arms behind his back, as if his hands were dirty.

He continued at the slow pace, blue eyes staring intently at closed door behind closed door, until he finally caught sight of something flickery-shiny on the distance. Green and red shiny flickery, but the red flickered more. It was shaped like a plus sign. He took a look around, but that seemed to be the only sign of life in the otherwise deathly still path he was walking in, so he decided it was as good anything else. He could use a first aid kit, and as far as he could tell so could too-heavy-and-bleeding-red.

'My bag... the brown one... looked like a big gourd...' Gaara mumbled something through his teeth, not really being sure why he was searching for this thing. He knew he has only been walking and walking and walking for miles and he saw nothing but a hard surface of crackled street and milkshake of an air. And it was cold. He clattered his teeth, feeling the oozing chill and slowly got up his hand to look at it. He was still clutching a sharp part of a knife with a paralytic grip and he wasn't sure if it hadn't grown on him.

He limped his head and groaned as it plopped with more red on the street. He only wanted to lie down... down... down... down...

'My bag is down the street...' He made a sudden sharp move and turned them back on their trace, making three strong steps, then his strength has vanished and he nearly collapsed on his face once again.

Naruto tried to catch him. Really, he did… try, that is. At least intended to, but he had been so scared by the fact bloody-red suddenly had enough force to turn them both around he just let go completely of him and it took him too long to react when he staggered and fell. And gha, that fleshy sound again. Wet skin sounded different on asphalt than normal skin, he now knew that.

'Hey… hey, are you ok?' he asked his voice doubtful as he slowly approached the other person and shook him. When that proved unsuccessful, he tried picking up, upon when he noticed the person with what looked to be a pocket knife embedded on his hand. He tried to remove it, but even when he had Red`s hand open, the knife was still glued to his skin in places. Places where the knife was held between cuts in the skin. Oddly enough, it was prying the blade off his fingers what made him feel sick in ways the other's face and his own wounds hadn't, and he dropped the knife as he turned around and tried to throw up. He succeeded, but he regretted it when his mouth was only filled with a bit of saliva that tasted like a close relative to battery acid.

'…what the hell is this place.' he asked, sniffing back the tears that had been brought by the taste in his mouth. He felt like if he'd made the horrible mistake of swallowing lava. Without even thinking about it, he picked the knife again and put it in his back pocket, reaching down to pick Bloody-Red once again, slowly dragging him towards the flashing light. Now he needed that pharmacy.

Gaara let himself be carried. He walked as long as he could, didn't recognize anything or anyone and saw that he was being taken to some kind of a building. He swallowed once, twice, and then understood. The pharmacy. Pharmacy, haha. Pharmacy, hehe!

'Haha... ha...' He started laughing, quietly a bit, then louder. If he had more strength, he'd probably tear off the stranger and started laughing on his own, but he couldn't do that. Instead, when they walked to the door, he clutched to it, howled in pain as his wounded hand made contact with the dusty metal and started laughing like a dying prisoner. Then he let go of the frame and lost touch with the world.

Maybe it was better for him that way. Maybe if he knew what was going to happen, he'd never try to wake up again. But he didn't, and, as usual, as he was told to in nonstopping, never ending sessions, as he wanted to do, he fought to open his eyes, even if it was easier to never wake up. He fought for his breath, even if it was easier to just let the lungs collapse. He fought for it - and woke up startled. His face was wet. His forehead hurt. He was in a room he didn't recognize. He didn't go in there. He didn't know such place. What... what... where... ah? And his knife was missing! He ignored the vile pain in his hand and turned in sharp move on his left side. He heard someone. He lied for a moment, completely silent, then he got up and ready to fight for his life. He got up - and he felt the room swirl and wobble, so he immediately fell down on his back, making so much noise probably Santa Claus had heard him. Ow!... My head!...

'God, are you okay?' Naruto peered down at bloody-red, who now wasn't as bloody as before, but still was mostly red. It was the hair. He'd never, ever seen someone with skin that white and hair that red. Weren't redheads supposed to be more orange-haired? No wonder he'd thought this guy's head was cracked open, his hair was almost the same color as blood. It was creepy. It didn't seem to be dyed, either. He'd checked when feeling for other wounds, but there didn't seem to be any different colored roots. He had found a plethora of wonderful bumps that would throb beautifully, though. He didn't envy red's awakening.

There had been a lot of time to kill while he waited for Red to wake up. He'd first of all closed the open doors, not liking a bit the way the place looked, but nothing had been inside the pharmacy, and he supposed that was good enough. He'd barricaded them by pushing a magazine stall in front of it… Hardly the most secure of barricades, but it did cover them from the outside peering (RED) eyes of whatever might lurk outside. Not much seemed to do. In the wispy smog, nothing had moved. A couple times he had thought he'd heard something, but it probably had been his fried nerves.

Either way, inside there was light, and he had needed to use it to fix his face as well as he could. His cheeks throbbed in a burning way and he'd used tiny band aids to keep the wounds closed, then covered them with gauze. Iruka-sensei always told him to leave wounds in the open so they'd heal faster, but he wasn't sure he meant wounds where pretty much perfect to pass as gills- he was pretty sure they were supposed to get stitched.

Then he'd used a water bottle he got from a handy minifridge that had contained less than savory items, not that he thought the water could have gone bad. He'd tried to use it to wake Red up, but apparently Red didn't want to wake up, so he'd taken off his shirt and used the bits that were still white to clean Red`s face. He'd been surprised at how pale red really was, but mostly at the fact his face was kind of…perfect.

Sure, his eyebrows were so pale he had to touch them to make sure they were there and after much wiping he had come to the realization make up wasn't that water proof so the rings around his eyes had to be bags - but his face was really kind of model-like. His skin was really soft and pale and pink in places and for some reason all this scrutinizing made him feel uncomfortable and aware that his shirt was ruined and he wasn't going to put it back on. So he'd busied himself cleaning the deep wounds in his forehead and then covered it with more gauze. He didn't want to know how that word had gotten there or why, but that wasn't a knife wound. He'd spent the past twenty minutes trying to figure a way to wrap those in Red`s hand.

'Let me help you-'

He didn't answer, cracking one of his eyes open and looked at the figure near him. It was blond, it was petite, it had wounds on a face that even a guy from an army would be terrified to see. That got him looking at him a little more warily. No shirt. And damn, were those bruises on arms real? He looked like if he was beating himself daily to mark days in the calendar. Pain. Gaara gritted his teeth, feeling that if anything, the bruise on his forehead he got from earlier was stinging like mad... (earlier)

He looked at the ceiling in wonder. The things that happened (earlier) were uberly fantastic and made like in an old horror movie. Gaara was not sure what to think about it. Wound on his head felt real, but the rest... Were his pills wearing off so quickly?

Did he need stronger ones already? What has really happened there? He turned his head toward the petite blond and looked at his chest. His nipples were rosy. That lucky bastard had that kind of skin that made everything look perfect if tanned. He licked his lips experimentally and tasted water. But (earlier)

...

'Where am I?' he tried. His voice was working. Good. He could communicate. Unless this half naked creature was also mute from those mad gashes.

'I-I don't know.' The blond's hand switched, unsure on if he should help Red up or let him lay where he was. Red had been looking at him with creepy eyes. They were creepy-green color, kind of like washed out grass. Kind of like that bitter tea Iruka-sensei drank. His arm warmers weren't much cleaner than his shirt, but they weren't that bad, and Red had been looking at them, and he didn't like people looking at his arms. He didn't know how the bruises had gotten there- those were very, very recent, kind of like, just—today recent, but there were older things he didn't want others looking at. If he looked ridiculous with orange and black arm warmers and no shirt, the truth was that he didn't give a fuck.

'This is a pharmacy, but I don't know where.'

Gaara still looked at him, as if he was testing him. He stretched a bit his injured hand, then looked at it. He frowned the slightest frown and smothered it away. He looked at the blond again with much colder glare. 'My knife.' he said in a demanding tone. He could be in epitome of weirdness now and he wouldn't care as long as he had his knife. If he didn't, the epitome could wait. Pharmacy, pff. He knew it was a pharmacy. He had eyes and he saw the way it was built. He slowly moved his eyes down the blond, licking him with his stare and covering on some details, like nice abs or tasteless jeans. Then he got up to the face and held out his wounded hand. When he stretched it, the cuts opened and showed a grotesque work of skin and muscles together.

He didn't like repeating himself so he did not speak this time.

Naruto stared in fascination as he extended the hand that he'd let be so the skin would hopefully seal itself and the way the muscles gaped open again had him backing away as if the redhead had tried to hit him.

'Don't show me that!' he said, covering his eyes 'Please.' Was added as an afterthought, voice softer and more controlled.

The redhead looked at him. Then he slowly put his hand down and got up. The pain in his head throbbed so much he wanted to hurl and gag, but he could do that later. He made a few steady steps toward the blond and caught his palms with his good hand - he tore them and showed his injured palm to Naruto's face so close he could see nothing but it and held him firmly in the place. 'My. Knife.' he spoke in a harsh tone. He really, really did not like repeating himself.

The blond pushed him away more violently than what was needed. 'Why did you do that for?'

Gaara groaned, holding onto his head once again and looked at the blond with disrespect.

'It's my hand you're disgusted with. That's sick.' Then he simply came closer put his hands into his pockets violently. With a quick and short searching he got out the object of the pocket from the back of blonde's pants. Before Naruto could do anything, he grabbed him by his face and showed his knife into his vision, almost poking him with it in an eye. 'This' - he gestured, flashing his weapon in a dim light 'Is a knife, miss Blondie. I'll take it or you'll hurt yourself even more.'

Then he let go of him and came back to the spot, sat down and slammed his knife into the floor so it could stand straight. Now he could concentrate.

Naruto didn't seem to be half as impressed by the knife as he had been by the gaping flesh of the redhead's hands.

'Keep it- I didn't want it anyway-' He didn't like knives. He liked even less gaping wounds that looked like gills on a dying fish.

'This place's name is Silent Hill.' the redhead said as he remembered the plate he looked at before everything went insane 'And...' Throb. Throb. '...my bag is still out there.' He looked at the entrance and got up, ready to go for his things.

Silent Hill…. No, that name didn't ring any bells. Didn't sound familiar at all. How had he gotten here? What had he been doing here…? He didn't have much time to wonders about those things, because Red got up and started walking away, startling him enough to get him to scramble up and scurry after him, his hand gripping his wrist. 'Where are you going? There are monsters out there!'

Gaara stopped and frowned. He looked at the blond again and looked back in front of himself. Then he looked at Naruto again. 'What did you say?'

Seriously, what? He couldn't remember anyone else seeing his demons.

'Monsters! Didn`t you see that thing that carved your head?' He touched his own gill marks and shivered, thinking he was going to be sick again. 'It ripped a word in your skin, it-it had you hanging upside down! You saw it… right?' He had seen the rabbit-wolf thing from hell… right?

'A word?' Gaara immediately touched his forehead and ripped off the thing that prevented him from feeling it. If felt like a disfigured bruise, but... He looked around and ran toward the closest window. The mirroring was faint, but visible. Red sparkling 'love' kanji stared at him from the mirror. 'Love'. Love? He looked at the blond and blinked. Then he gestured at his forehead again but didn't speak a word that was running around his mouth like crazy. He looked into the glass again. 'Who did that to me?'

'The monster! The fat one! The one that had you, it was—it was doing something to you, with that cut…'

'WHAT MONSTER?' Ow! Gaara screamed only if necessary. Which meant rare occurrences. And now he chose one. Bad timing, considering the throbbing head. 'There are no monsters! Are you nut as well?'

'There are monsters out there!' The blond said, eyes wide and blue as they had never been before. 'Who the hell do you think did this to me?' he pointed at his own cheeks, then at the redhead's forehead. 'Who did that to you?'

'How the hell am I supposed to know? I'm not exactly healthy as well!' Then he looked at his clock. Good. The time was not skipping at strange hours. He was still sane. 'It was probably some dog or anything wild like that. If I were you, I'd get that stitched.' Because he saw too many monsters in his life to actually believed in existence of any. The blond might've looked like something he'd consider as a good one-night stand, but it didn't give him rights to mess with both of them. He got his knife from the floor then has hidden it in his pocket. He still had pills. Good. 'I don't know about you, but I'm not here to sit on my ass. I'm going to get my things and go to the nearest library.'

'Dogs don't know how to write, Red.' the blond said, showing his teeth in an almost animalistic snarl. 'Dogs don't make better kanji than I do!' He didn't need or want the redhead telling him he was insane. He was many things, but insane wasn't one of them. He absently brushed his cheek with the edge of his arm warmer, not surprised when it came out with some blood on it. He'd been moving his mouth a lot. 'Animals don't say-' ((Don't run away, I want to be you friend!...)) '…things.'

Redhead looked at the blond and smiled slightly.

'People who live in a vacated town can't be really normal.' Then he grabbed blond by the back of his head and kissed him soundly on the lips. 'It's Gaara, the former habiting of this town, not 'Red'. Be reasonable, miss.' Then he let go of him and started moving the magazine stall from the door.

Naruto's eyes widened at the kiss, mostly because Red pressed all over the cut he had on the back of his head, and the inflamed skin that had been so quiet and cooperative for the past hour suddenly woke up in a mood for partying.

'What's wrong with you?' he cried, more at the sudden bout pain and dizziness that seemed to radiate from that spot on his head, doubling over and cupping the cut protectively. Fuck. He didn't know if his cheeks needed stitches, but that definitely did. And he wasn't sure what happened to wounds that needed stitches and didn't get them. 'Fuck. Fuck.'

He had to wait a few more seconds until his wound stopped making itself known cheerily to register that Red (aka Gaara, former habitant of Silent Hill, wherever in the world that might be) had just kissed him. Color flooded to his face, as he reached up to wipe his lips, staring at the other with wide eyes. 'Whu—What was that for…? I´m not a girl.' One would think that being topless would clue Red (Gaara) on that simple and quite obvious fact.

The magazine stall has been pushed away. 'It's just that you look like something I would do if I had time and money. But I will live with one kiss also. If you ever want more, you can search for me.' He looked at the clock. He still was capable of holding onto his senses. Good. Then he noticed the blood on his fingers. 'Go to doctor.'

And he went out.

His head still hurt him like if he had migraine, but his things were more important than a greeting wound from some sick habitants of this town. But how he was supposed to find his things in this mist? He only saw half of a meter in front of him and his lights - including matches - were all stuffed in his bag. Not that it was impossible to spot. Gaara only hoped it hasn't been stolen. He'd have problems if he had to get back home without his passport.

The blond's eyes widened at the same time his skin went from beet red to more or less the same tone of the mist outside. He had never known anyone who could say so many insulting things in a single sentence, yet Red had managed it, and if he didn't follow him to do his very best to try and beat the shit out of him was because he was so unbelievably mad he just worked his mouth a few times before realizing he couldn't breathe.

That was a funny thing. He kind of felt as if he were working his lungs, but he didn't really *feel* the air getting inside of them, and even though he tried to order it to. All he seemed to be able to concentrate was in gaping in silent fury at what the redhead had just implied and when another wave of green hit him and changed his perspective to that of the street being seen from the side, he didn't seem to be aware it was because he had fallen on his side. His head throbbed madly, and he could hear the sounds the moving did as it slowly entered through the little opening stupid redhead had left.

'It wants to eat me.` he though dazedly as his focus started shifting in an out as his lids lowered. His naked skin was quickly covered in tiny drops of condensation to form on it. It made him think of sweat, even though it was so cold he moaned and tried to curl on himself. A half hearted thought tried to form through the murky colorful darkness that he was trying to avoid. `His skin looks like…`

#+#+#+#+#+#

'Hello? Mister? Are you all right?' A childish voice sang out in the middle of silence like bird's first tunes. Almost like tunes. The blond was laying down and probably expecting death.

Smirk.

'You shouldn't be laying on the floor like that. The siren went off and the monsters can come and destroy you when you have unguarded doors like that...'

'…huh?'

The world had stopped shifting in and out of focus, but it was still wrong. There was no mist anymore. But the air was purple and red. Blue eyes were in his field of vision. They were really beautiful eyes, such a pure blue color… but they were familiar.

'You know, monsters? Especially the big one, made of sand... he can do really ugly things to you when you get too close to him...' He smiled, then came closer. The blond was still on the floor, unmoving. If he stretched his hand just (like that) he could touch his face... 'Are you hurt, Mister? You look very bad... does your cheek hurt?'

'…yes?' he asked questioningly. Now that little blond mentioned it he felt like if his skin was trying to gap open despite the band-aids trying to keep it shut. Great. He had become fish version of the Joker. Now that he noticed… he turned a bit, his eyes staring at the soft skin of little blond. It was soft and pretty, with a light caramel-looking tan. It was slightly pudgy with pre-adolescent baby fat, and he would have pinched his cheeks if it weren't because the gill versions of the joker marks stood starkly against the otherwise perfect skin. '…yours?'

'Not at all.' The kid smiled widely and kneeled down. 'But don't worry, it should stop hurting soon. Nine tails is just a little strange when it comes to greetings.' He looked down and watched his body with an intensive stare. 'Did he do that to you too?' The small hand gestured toward the arms and some older marks that were visible through arm warmers.

'I don`t know.' Not the new, new ones. He tried to get up, but he couldn`t make himself sit into a straight position. 'Nine tails...?'

The kid's didn`t hurt? His were complaining like a bitch. And who the fuck was this little boy? 'Who are you?'

The kid smiled again and bounced his head on the side with a tune that was not played. 'I'm me.' he said cheerfully 'And who are you? I haven't seen you in Silent Hill before.'

'I`m Naruto Uzumaki.' He tried to get up again. His body didn`t seem to want to understand what he wanted to do, or care about it. 'What is this place?'

'Uzumaki Naruto... I like that name.' For a moment there was a flash of grotesque smile that didn't match the kid's face. Then it faded away. 'It's a very quiet place. That's why it's called Silent Hill. Not many people live here. Only those who couldn't leave and those who came because they've been searching for... something. I am searching for my mommy and daddy. What are you searching for , Uzumaki Naruto?'

'I-I don`t know. I hit my head. I lost my bad...' his voice was nearly a whine. Why was all of this happening to him? Why was he in this place? His bag probably had the answers, but he didn`t know what had happened to it. Or to himself, for the matter. 'I can`t remember why I came here.'

'Maybe because of these?'

Small hand pointed at arm warmers and bruises that could be visible. The kid looked at the in indifference, then he looked at them in distress. (it was difficult to describe the feeling) 'It must've been someone really mean. Maybe you came here because you search for a solution?' He bounced his head left and right to invisible tune.

No, nononono. Those were old things. Old things were better left hidden and forgotten.

'No. No. Why...?' he tried to move up. This time he managed to slightly, but immediately fell back with a soft thud. 'Do I know you?'

'I don't know. I don't know. Do you know me?' sang the little kid and got up, only to skip to the other side of Naruto 'Because if you don't, then I want to know you. Let's be friends. And this place gives solution to people like you.' He giggled. A little (because it's so hard to do that) bit.

'...I can`t get up. What did you do to me...?'

'Why do you think I did something to you?' He giggled a little more and smiled. 'I'm just a kid. I can't do anything.'

(almost)

'That`s not true!' Something in the distance howled. A monster or a siren, he couldn`t be sure. 'I need to get out of here.'

'Yes, you should.' The kid slowly got up and patted his knees from the dust. 'But beware, Nine tails and Sand Monster are not the only ones who wander in the mist. Just try to stay safe when the siren calls out. Or it will get bloody...' He giggled madly at the last statement (bloody) and skipped out to slowly vanish into the growing mist.

'Wait… Where are you going…? You said-' The sirens kept calling. It was so loud it took him a moment to realize they were howling outside of his dream too.