Conversations that are had in the pauses of the words and the silences between them.

This is my first foray into the Naruto fanfic world. Hope you enjoy it!


Then there was Haru...


Mornings were quiet, cushioned by the soft breaths of a still asleep city. The soft rays of the sun filtering tepidly through a crack in the curtains landed almost too perfectly across his face, his nose scrunching in distaste, he wanted to sleep even if a moment longer but knew that soon the sounds of things cooking would filter up the stairs, the smell of food inviting wakefulness if not completely clearing the fog of sleep from his head. It wasn't always like this, mornings were not always this easy. Though young, he could still remember the smell of tears that would precede the wake up call from down the stairs, the way the pinched smile would greet him, the dark circles under her red rimmed eyes and the way it all made his heart ache. Some would say that he was too young to know what true heartbreak was, and he would be inclined to agree, but the mornings when she was nowhere to be found had taught him differently. Heartbreak did not discriminate based on age, it rampaged through lives uninvited, leaving a trail of whispered apologies, tears and a sadness so palpable and profound sometimes he felt as though he was choking.

The sounds of a breakfast being prepared roused him from his thoughts, and before he would have to discern the way his name was being called that morning, before he could hear the sorrow choking her soul, he got up from bed, preparing for another day ahead, a day he hoped would be as good as the day before. This newfound peace was fragile, or so he believed, his soul was bruised by the lapses in joy that his life had gone through. He knew, intrinsically, that he was loved, that he was not the cause for the grief that ate at her. This fact was irrefutable, from how she called his name to how, despite everything, she was there, downstairs, getting ready to call his name to bring him out of his room, like a summons he would never dare to deny.

"Haru," he had to take a deep breath to keep from flinching, his small brow furrowed attempting to decipher what he could from that single word. "Haru! Breakfast is ready!"

"Coming!" He called back, deciding she sounded cheerful, content, this would be a good day. Her voice was not marred by the rasp that followed sleepless nights, and the stairs did not smell of tears when he opened the door.

Her head peeked from the landing, looking up at him with pearlescent gray eyes, so light you could almost be led to believe that they were tinted in lilac. Her hair was tied up, at the crown of her head and cascaded down the side as she leaned sideways. Haru always wondered why the shade of black he was born with was less colorful than the shade she had. Why didn't his hair bother to gleam even a fraction of the purple that hers shined with in the light? He wondered if he would like his hair more if it resembled hers.

"Haru," she smiled, warmly, and leaning over the railing she pinned him with her stare. "Hurry, you'll be late to practice if you don't eat soon."

"I'm on my way," the door closed with a click behind him and he began making his way down the stairs. Stairs that were lined with pictures of them, together, of him, alone.

He arrived at the kitchen just in time to watch her plate their food, a bowl of miso was steaming to his right, salted salmon directly in front of him, tamago was placed between them so that they may share it, the pickled cabbages he had helped her make this weekend was placed directly next to his fish and as he took a seat and grabbed his chopsticks she handed him a bowl of rice.

"Nori?" She asked, handing him a plate of paper thin squares of seaweed, he shook his head and instead tilted his towards the tea, pouring her a cup before doing the same for himself.

"Your birthday is coming up," she said softly in between bites of food. "Is there anything you'd like to do? I think it falls on a Saturday."

When he was younger, he had learned that there were dates best left forgotten, without fanfare. At one point, he couldn't remember when, he realized that although she made sure he never wanted for anything, there had been a point in their lives when even the most practiced of her smiles could not hide the strain a birthday celebration would bring with it. He knew things were different now, still, he could not bring himself to shake the shadow of her smile, strained, superficial, of the way her bones seemed to stick out of her skin as she handed him exactly what he had asked for as a birthday present.

"Is it? I always forget," he murmured, chewing his salmon carefully.

"Matches don't start again for another month, will you have practice during the weekends?" The thoughtful inflection in her voice reminded him of a time when he had thought he would never hear her speak again.

"Not that I know," he always wondered why his voice was darker, like a foreboding night, and not like hers at all.

"Hm..." she hummed taking a sip from her tea.

He could never guess why these thoughts would come from time to time, he was sure that if he were to voice them she would be devastated, and probably force him into therapy. They weren't intrusive, and he was sure that it was just melancholy, surely everyone had moments like those. Didn't they?

"Haru, are you paying attention?" She asked furrowing her brow in question.

"Sorry, I was thinking about school," the lie was smooth in his tongue, and he chased the after-taste with a gulp of tea.

"Hm," she tilted her head slightly as she observed him. "We should celebrate here, let me know if there is anyone you'd like to have over." She began picking up the dishes. He finished his tea.

"Of course," he murmured, helping her stack the bowls together and bringing them to the sink. He was a private person and did not have many friends that he could invite to a birthday celebration, but she knew that.

Wrapping the bento she placed it next to him as he washed the dishes by the sink and leaning her back against the counter she looked up at him. Eyes worried, mouth downturned so slightly he almost missed it.

"Haru..." she began, faltered and ultimately sighed. "Be safe during practice today, remember that I will be home late."

He placed the bowls in the drying rack and looked at her, gunmetal gray meeting their lighter counterpart and he smirked, the corner of his mouth tilting upwards.

"I'm not a kid anymore, mom." He bumped her with his hip, making her lose her balance. "I can take care of myself."

She scoffed, and looked at him with what resembled a glare, but he could not be sure, she had never been good at looking intimidating.

"You'll always be a kid in my eyes." She said, almost looking miffed.

Haru laughed as he picked up his backpack, placing the bento she had set next to him inside. He towered over his mother now, but that had not always been the case, he leaned forward for the kiss on the cheek she always gave him and grabbing his Wakyu he headed for the door.

"Itachi will be by after work," she called after him as he put on his shoes. "Try not to burn the house down together."

He looked at her, eyes innocently wide as he hurried out the door.


I'll be posting a 4 chapters today to get the story going and then I will go into a posting schedule of once weekly if I am able!

Kind words are always appreciated 3