. N O T E S Well, takes place a couple years after the events in the Valley of the End. If you haven't read chapters 230 somethings then you'll probably have no idea what the hell is going on. Most of the next events—i.e., war, etc.—are all fictional, so…yeah.
. W A R N I N G .
1. OOC, because the characters are much older now, and I expected them to have matured or something. Or something.
2. Slight shounen-ai, or boy on boy love. Don't like, don't read.
3. It's a bit hard to follow if you don't read too deeply into the meaning. I'm sure you guys'll get it. n.n
. D I S C L A I M . Sinful doesn't own Naruto. She can type that sentence in her sleep now. --
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. F A D E . A W A Y . F O R E V E R .
By Sinful Serenity
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He remembers.
He remembers the Chidori, the Rasengan, the clash of friend on friend, rival to rival, one inner demon against the other. He remembers the heat, the swirl of power, the scream of exploding chakra in his ears; he remembers, and he cannot forget.
He remembers graduating to Chuunin and then Jounin, forgoing his trademark orange jumpsuit for a Jounin's respectable midnight blue body suit and green vest. He remembers the division of Team 7, the marriage of Haruno Sakura to Lee, the merry celebrations after with the entire class of their generation—everyone except one shinobi.
One missing-nin, one traitor to Konoha, one orphan blindly lost in his search for power—one avenger, willing to do whatever it took to surpass his older brother.
He remembers losing Uchiha Sasuke.
He may remember so many things, but the memories that linger longest are all of those with the boy in them. A stoic young man with pale skin and ebony hair, narrow features and sharp words, an aura that warns one to stay away lest they be burned.
There are many things Naruto remembers, and so many things Naruto knows.
But there are things that he doesn't.For example, he doesn't know why he's standing out here, in a stone-walled gorge, with vegetation only beginning to grow back from the immense amounts of chakra that scored the area before. It's beginning to rain, but Naruto doesn't really care. It doesn't bother him. The wind rustles his honey blonde hair, traces his whiskered face, and the silence warns him something will happen.
But Naruto only keeps walking, deeper and deeper into this place, this place so appropriately named—the Valley of the End.
He doesn't understand why, now of all times, he's suddenly coming back to where it all started—or ended, really. He had tried to bring Sasuke back and failed. There had been their largest battle yet here, ended in a stalemate, as neither could kill another. If he remembered correctly, it had rained here too, just as it was beginning to now.
It's been years since he last saw his best friend, his rival, his arch-enemy. Even if he had participated in the war between Hidden Sound and Hidden Leaf, even if he was a criminal, a traitor now, he cannot forget what he once was. It's disturbing, distracting, an emotion or thought that neither of them needs to remember.
Even if the war's
over, even if Sound had been beaten back and Leaf had triumphed, even
if Sasuke had disappeared from his eyes for the last three years, that
will not and has not changed anything. The thoughts of the raven haired
still plague his mind since their last meeting—those eyes, dark as
night, morphed to a glowing ruby red, comma-like dots floating in the
pupils; burnt scars of the curse seal dappling his skin, flecking his
face; he remembers his howl, too animal to be human.
He knows
in his heart, though, that even if that demon had worn the appearance
of Sasuke, held his name and his voice and his body, it couldn't really
have been the boy he grew up with.
Sasuke would die first then let anything possess him, force his soul back into the recesses of his mind as irrationality ruled over logic.
Maybe that is why.
His questions as to why he is here, in this Valley of the End, have been answered. There's a shape in the distance, ruby colored eyes widening a fraction of a centimeter, not enough motion to be seen by the naked eye. His sandaled feet make soft squelches in the mud as he doesn't bothering to disguise his approach, his eyes trained to the blonde and never moving. He shoves his gloved hands in his pockets, walking in a way that looks so casual, yet he's ready to spring and devour you the second you move.
"What are you doing here?"
His voice…it's the same.
Sasuke
stares at Naruto, hard, his eyes filled with cold indifference, still
glowing eerily as the skies darken further. Naruto turned to look at
him, briefly surprised before he shakes it off. "I could ask the same
of you, asshole."
It's a futile attempt. Those sharingan-flecked eyes offer no hint if he recognized the familiar taunt.
Nevertheless…
"I felt you here, moron," he answers in a flat voice, still aloof, still cold, still unimpressed.
It makes Naruto seethe inside.
He looks away for a moment, before he looks at the raven-haired man from the corner of his eyes. "The war's over. Why won't you come back to Konoha?"
For a moment, he will not answer, and can only stare, transfixed, at Naruto's eyes, the same impossible color of the sky, as he remembers. But reality allows no room for fantasy, and dreams are to be dreamed in the shelter of the night. "I have no part of leaf anymore. You know that."
He knows what has happened. And he still refuses to accept it.
"Does it matter that much?"
"Yes."
There's silence between the two, neither looking at the other, as the rain grows steadily heavier, pounding in slate gray sheets on their backs. Thunder rumbles in the distance, a low warning from afar, and lightning sprints against the rolling black clouds, avoiding the fight before it begins.
He turns to Sasuke and takes a step forward.
Instantly the other snaps into a defensive stance, fingers already moving to the kunai holster hidden in his pockets. Naruto immediately stops, and slowly his tensed body relaxes.
"Why?"
He looks away. "I have no reason to go back." Uchiha Sasuke fears nothing. But then, he idly wondered, why was he evading the question?
"You have us. There's Sakura, and Kakashi-sensei, Ino, Neji, Shikamaru…" He trails off, but his voice is still strong when he continues. "You have me."
He can't look at those wild blue eyes. "I've done too much against Konoha, and you expect me to go back?"
"Yeah."
"Then you are a idiot."
"I know." For a moment, just a moment, there's that foxy grin again, a flash of sunlight amidst the gray clouds. "But…at least I'm not afraid."He says nothing. But the blood leaks from his eyes, those crimson pupils fading to black, though the cursed marks remain brightly burned into his skin. He remembers memories he doesn't want, things he tried to flush from his mind as he tried to gain the strength he needed to defeat his brother. Too bad he never realized that strength is better achieved united then alone. Naruto had always pushed him to his limits and beyond that, hadn't he? They boosted each other, complemented each other perfectly. He remembers the incident with Haku, moving faster then he ever had; he remembers training with Team 7, remembers the silly missions they were assigned, remembers all of it.
And it hurts, a little bit, maybe a lot, maybe more then he will ever be willing to admit.
Naruto watches his face for a moment before he reaches in his pocket, fumbling for a moment before withdrawing some rectangular object. He gently unfolds the midnight blue cloth, letting the fabric flutter away.
He holds out the head band to Sasuke, the old, faded cloth tumbling from his fingers and hanging from his hand, a slash of dark metal placed in the midst of the navy fabric. It still shines, though without the luster of when it was brand new, still young, still beautiful. There's the mark of the Hidden Leaf, etched ever deeper into the thin silver, then the long, ugly slash running across his surface.
He hesitates, but slowly his pale fingers reach forward and brush the cold surface, one finger running the length of the slash. "It's worthless now," Sasuke says, suddenly retracting his hand as quickly as if he had been burned.
"It's not."
"It is. It couldn't protect me…" His eyes grow distant, obsidian orbs un-focusing, before they sharpen again and the pin the head protector under their gaze. "…It won't protect anyone."He shrugs, but his fingers clench around the metal more tightly then before. "Maybe it just needs to be replaced."
"Replaced?" The Uchiha echoes, his eyes narrowing and hardening at the same time, until they're as cold as the freezing rain falling around them. "I didn't think it was that worthless."
Because, both of them know, neither is talking about something as trivial as a silly headband now.
"That's
not it," Naruto says quietly, noting the tiniest flicker of emotion in
those bottomless black orbs. His face jerks away, raven hair whirling
from the motion, as he looks anywhere except the blonde.
"That
what is?" He answers instantly. Bitterly. A whispered murmur, too soft
to hear, that nevertheless seemed to ring in his ears.
This time, the headband slides from Naruto's fingers, not from Sasuke's forehead. It falls with a muffled, yet sickening thump, to the muddy earth below, the cloth quickly stained, the metal splattered with grime. His shaking fingers reach around his head, fumbling with the knot of thick fabric, finally finding their way and quickly loosening the band's grip around his head. The metal slides into his hand, removed from its shelter of sodden blonde tresses, shoved out in the rain as he holds it out to the other.
"It's never been really replaced…" He answers quietly, sky-blue eyes shimmering with unreadable emotion. "…And it never will be, no matter how damaged it is. It's just worn down and cut at too many times—it just needs a chance to start over again."
There is silence. Not even the harsh rain can be heard, the rumbles of distant thunder, the woodland animals, all quiet. Nothing except the sounds of their breathing.
Two hearts beating as one.
He says nothing.
But slowly, ever so slowly, he turns his head. For once, he makes no defensive motion as Naruto steps forward, still holding his gift—says nothing, does nothing, as the slightly shorter teen pushes the headband in place, gently tying it fast. It stands out from his pale features, proud and bold and sharp.
Just like he used to be.
Just like he hoped he would be.
He's about to step away, but quick as the lightning flash overhead, his arms snake out and snags the other around the waist, holding him close, pressing his face into his neck. They may have been enemies, lovers at some point, foes at the next, but he knows well this may be the last chance he has to hold him close.
His pale face submerges in his field of sunshine-golden hair, words whispered ever softer.
"It won't be the same. It never will."
His warning.
"Then so be it."
His acceptance.
Onyx locks with sky-blue, holding his gaze, before slowly, their faces gravitate to one another, lips brushing in the most sinfully sweet of kisses. So much as he desires to accelerate and bring it further, the blonde pushes away, smiling sadly, reminding the Uchiha of the truth.
Sometimes…the best way to forgive…
…is to forget.
He breaks away, placing his palms on his chest and gently pushing him back. He steps back as well, but their eyes never shift. He nods, slowly; and even more slowly the other mimics this motion.
Because, you know, if it's too painful to treasure the memories of old…then you should make new memories worth remembering.
He looks away for a split second, but when he looks back, he's different. The last traces of the curse seal fades from his skin, and though his eyes will never have the same innocence, they are more inviting then they have ever been. He knows what Naruto means. He knows what he has sacrificed to go on and keep going on. He knows, and he accepts.
If you don't where to begin…
Start at the beginning. Even if you already have…then start over again.
He thrusts his hand out, empty palm hanging out in the rain. "Hi. I'm Uzumaki Naruto."
He takes it. The cold indifference in his eyes waver for a moment as he
realizes exactly what he's given up…but, then, he doesn't care.
It won't matter.
"Uchiha Sasuke."
The clouds shift, the heavens continue to cry, weeping over the wake of best friendship laid to rest. But the sun comes forth to console the clouds, as their last tear drops roll from their face.
Maybe, just maybe, as the pair of boys—no, men—walk away, there's a trick of light as the sky clears—maybe it's an illusion or a mirage, but perhaps if you had been there, you might have seen the shadow of two young teens, one dressed in shocking orange, the other darkest blue, huddled together in the Valley of the End as they fade away forever.
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Memories will fade away as tomorrow comes by
As two walk the future together and leave the past behind
They might forget what happened—the clash of friend upon friend—
Maybe this is why it's called—the Valley of the End.
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