Disclaimer in my bio.
I would write this to please those of you who wanted another chapter. But I think I should focus on my other fic, so sorry... I suppose. But I will update, very slowly. After all, I need inspiration for character interaction. And if you ask why, I never dated a girl before, so I have no idea what is love or a crush. because I never felt it. But imagination will cure that, HAHAHAHA!!!
-Naruto's POV-
Her voice is like an angel's, a fallen angel. One that has fallen from joy, one that seemed to have lost hope, aim and goal. Like a bird with damaged wings, it is left to die until someone tends to her wound. I would like to be that person, because I am her friend, her comrade, and for the sake of a friend, I would do everything to help her. It has and will always be my way of the ninja.
I took a step away, to leave her be at her shop, but every step I take, cuts my morality, severs my confidence. Is this who I am, one who would leave her be like that?
Walking away, my heart bleeds in pain. Watching such a beautiful lady like her wither, is not the most pleasant sight.
But how will I talk to her, when she seemed devoid of life? I must find the very thing she is fond of... and it would be art. Somehow, I felt that I could communicate with her through art, because isn't that what she is doing?
-Omni-
Naruto walked to the nearby store, and he still held on to his high-level henge. Searching through the endless rows of books he came to find what he was looking for, and to himself, he said, "I will learn her language." He quickly took as many books on the subject of art as his hands could carry, and walked towards the counter to pay for it.
Then, he looked at a friend who passed by, Shikamaru. No, he would not recognize him, and he could not go up to say hi. It is painful to suffer such fates, but as Tsunade said the moment after the plan was initiated, "You cannot reveal yourself. I know it is selfish, because you would no longer be allowed to reveal yourself to them as Naruto. But you can become their guardian angel, protecting them from harm without them knowing it. You can still talk to them, as long as you remain in your henge, and they have not the slightest clue of your true identity."
"It is cruel. Yes it is. But it is to prevent many things from happening, and I with a heavy heart, will have to force you to do so."
Naruto smiled at Shikamaru, and he did not take notice, busy with his own things that be. 'Tsunade-sama. I don't mind, so long as I can protect them. I will bear the pain, to see joy on their faces. Now... about Hinata...' He quickly carried his books back to his new home, a well-kept apartment prepared for his convenience, and there he started to read on the books he had purchase a time before.
-Hinata's POV-
These shadows pass me by, everyday. These shadows see nothing, but joy, their eyes are distorted and so it is their heart. But I paint them, and somehow I know I wish to be like them, I want to be happy.
Alas I am not allowed for happiness, and the more I try to seek it, the farther away it goes. It is a goal that I have chosen to give up, it is a goal impossible to achieve, for me. Yet I wield my brush, pencil and pen, to capture their happiness and joy, with the hopes that some of that happiness will rub off on me.
They pass me by, everyday. They know nothing of the pain I have went through, and somehow, I am happy for them. I draw them, I paint them, but what am I but a thief of the happiness of others?
How I wish for at least a little of their joy, and perhaps that might be another reason why I took up painting. To capture emotion, for myself.
I am selfish, ain't I?
-Naruto's POV-
The light that filters through the window welcomes life, and chases away the darkness. It too helps with the task at hand, to read on art and the judgement of it, which I hope to soon apply when attempting to communicate with Hinata again.
But I know I am lying in a sense, but I hope to help her, using my new identity. I am no longer Naruto, at least no physically, because of the henge that now protects me, and now I go by the name of Ikazuchi Akagi. A new name that I have grown fond of, because it is a clean slate from which I can start anew.
Scanning the pages and digesting as much as I could, I soon realized that this will take me too long to understand fully. But I have to help her, wouldn't I?
Taking my jacket, and my money of course, I seek to hit the uptown areas, and converse with artists at those places, and with some luck, they would provide me with what I need, but before that, I want to take another glance at her, to assure that she would be okay.
-Hinata's POV-
The sky is dark, and gloomy, and so it warns of the coming rain which I love so much.
Rain has been the personification of my sorrow, the drops of rain represents the crying that I have hid away, the darkness tells of a different kind of death, a death that I have seen little, but felt so much. Rain, oh rain, come and wash away my pain. How I wish the rain could so...
Again, I take up my brush, and my palette of colors that I have prepared well. This is my life, that of a rotting scum, that of a withering corpse, and whenever I see the mirror, I am reminded of pain.
Slowly I paint the rain, and often the passersby come to witness me paint, before continuing on their own journeys. Yet, when I see them walk away, I felt left behind. They have a destination, I don't... I don't.
-Naruto's POV-
There she is, painting on a blank canvas. A blank canvas, something I wished to be long ago, a white sheet unstained and unpunished by hatred and blood.
Her hand is fluid, graceful, and it is well reflected on her painting. But every now and then, she steals a glance at those who leave after watching her, and somehow, I could see pain and sorrow. Those eyes I have seen somewhere, those eyes belonged to them who feel left behind and isolated.
Again, I wished I could walk to her, and convince her that she is not left behind.
Everyone else left, and I was the only one left watching her paint the rain outside sheltered market square. Instantly, I knew this would be a good oppurtunity to speak to her, but I also know how rude it is to interrupt someone at work, and so I leave her alone, give her the respect an artist deserve.
Yet I kept on watching, when a part of me felt I should resume my journey. My eyes were deeply captivated by the inversed joy in her artwork, the sorrow that almost seems happy, the pain that feels like pleasure. Is this who she is, because a person once said to me, that a person's work, reflects the person's personality. Is she someone who hides away all the pain with happiness, like me?
III
There, I'm done with the second installment. But it will be a while before I update, because I have other commitments in writing. Of course, reviews are always welcome, because they accelerate my writing.
I would write this to please those of you who wanted another chapter. But I think I should focus on my other fic, so sorry... I suppose. But I will update, very slowly. After all, I need inspiration for character interaction. And if you ask why, I never dated a girl before, so I have no idea what is love or a crush. because I never felt it. But imagination will cure that, HAHAHAHA!!!
-Naruto's POV-
Her voice is like an angel's, a fallen angel. One that has fallen from joy, one that seemed to have lost hope, aim and goal. Like a bird with damaged wings, it is left to die until someone tends to her wound. I would like to be that person, because I am her friend, her comrade, and for the sake of a friend, I would do everything to help her. It has and will always be my way of the ninja.
I took a step away, to leave her be at her shop, but every step I take, cuts my morality, severs my confidence. Is this who I am, one who would leave her be like that?
Walking away, my heart bleeds in pain. Watching such a beautiful lady like her wither, is not the most pleasant sight.
But how will I talk to her, when she seemed devoid of life? I must find the very thing she is fond of... and it would be art. Somehow, I felt that I could communicate with her through art, because isn't that what she is doing?
-Omni-
Naruto walked to the nearby store, and he still held on to his high-level henge. Searching through the endless rows of books he came to find what he was looking for, and to himself, he said, "I will learn her language." He quickly took as many books on the subject of art as his hands could carry, and walked towards the counter to pay for it.
Then, he looked at a friend who passed by, Shikamaru. No, he would not recognize him, and he could not go up to say hi. It is painful to suffer such fates, but as Tsunade said the moment after the plan was initiated, "You cannot reveal yourself. I know it is selfish, because you would no longer be allowed to reveal yourself to them as Naruto. But you can become their guardian angel, protecting them from harm without them knowing it. You can still talk to them, as long as you remain in your henge, and they have not the slightest clue of your true identity."
"It is cruel. Yes it is. But it is to prevent many things from happening, and I with a heavy heart, will have to force you to do so."
Naruto smiled at Shikamaru, and he did not take notice, busy with his own things that be. 'Tsunade-sama. I don't mind, so long as I can protect them. I will bear the pain, to see joy on their faces. Now... about Hinata...' He quickly carried his books back to his new home, a well-kept apartment prepared for his convenience, and there he started to read on the books he had purchase a time before.
-Hinata's POV-
These shadows pass me by, everyday. These shadows see nothing, but joy, their eyes are distorted and so it is their heart. But I paint them, and somehow I know I wish to be like them, I want to be happy.
Alas I am not allowed for happiness, and the more I try to seek it, the farther away it goes. It is a goal that I have chosen to give up, it is a goal impossible to achieve, for me. Yet I wield my brush, pencil and pen, to capture their happiness and joy, with the hopes that some of that happiness will rub off on me.
They pass me by, everyday. They know nothing of the pain I have went through, and somehow, I am happy for them. I draw them, I paint them, but what am I but a thief of the happiness of others?
How I wish for at least a little of their joy, and perhaps that might be another reason why I took up painting. To capture emotion, for myself.
I am selfish, ain't I?
-Naruto's POV-
The light that filters through the window welcomes life, and chases away the darkness. It too helps with the task at hand, to read on art and the judgement of it, which I hope to soon apply when attempting to communicate with Hinata again.
But I know I am lying in a sense, but I hope to help her, using my new identity. I am no longer Naruto, at least no physically, because of the henge that now protects me, and now I go by the name of Ikazuchi Akagi. A new name that I have grown fond of, because it is a clean slate from which I can start anew.
Scanning the pages and digesting as much as I could, I soon realized that this will take me too long to understand fully. But I have to help her, wouldn't I?
Taking my jacket, and my money of course, I seek to hit the uptown areas, and converse with artists at those places, and with some luck, they would provide me with what I need, but before that, I want to take another glance at her, to assure that she would be okay.
-Hinata's POV-
The sky is dark, and gloomy, and so it warns of the coming rain which I love so much.
Rain has been the personification of my sorrow, the drops of rain represents the crying that I have hid away, the darkness tells of a different kind of death, a death that I have seen little, but felt so much. Rain, oh rain, come and wash away my pain. How I wish the rain could so...
Again, I take up my brush, and my palette of colors that I have prepared well. This is my life, that of a rotting scum, that of a withering corpse, and whenever I see the mirror, I am reminded of pain.
Slowly I paint the rain, and often the passersby come to witness me paint, before continuing on their own journeys. Yet, when I see them walk away, I felt left behind. They have a destination, I don't... I don't.
-Naruto's POV-
There she is, painting on a blank canvas. A blank canvas, something I wished to be long ago, a white sheet unstained and unpunished by hatred and blood.
Her hand is fluid, graceful, and it is well reflected on her painting. But every now and then, she steals a glance at those who leave after watching her, and somehow, I could see pain and sorrow. Those eyes I have seen somewhere, those eyes belonged to them who feel left behind and isolated.
Again, I wished I could walk to her, and convince her that she is not left behind.
Everyone else left, and I was the only one left watching her paint the rain outside sheltered market square. Instantly, I knew this would be a good oppurtunity to speak to her, but I also know how rude it is to interrupt someone at work, and so I leave her alone, give her the respect an artist deserve.
Yet I kept on watching, when a part of me felt I should resume my journey. My eyes were deeply captivated by the inversed joy in her artwork, the sorrow that almost seems happy, the pain that feels like pleasure. Is this who she is, because a person once said to me, that a person's work, reflects the person's personality. Is she someone who hides away all the pain with happiness, like me?
III
There, I'm done with the second installment. But it will be a while before I update, because I have other commitments in writing. Of course, reviews are always welcome, because they accelerate my writing.