Heart on Your Sleeve
You always wore your heart on your sleeve.
All that you were, all that they let you keep – all of it there, in the open, never hidden. Affection, comfort, taunts, laughter… Your smile… It was always there when anyone needed it. Whether they recognized the need or not.
You'd offer what you could, every time.
You weren't always kind, but sometimes being cruel is the kindest thing to do. You understood that better than anyone, for it was the only kindness they offered you.
You wore your heart on your sleeve, never refused anyone what they needed. What they wanted, you could withhold, but you'd never deny a need.
And they took what you offered, didn't they? Took the brightness of your smile and gave you the darkness of their hatred. Took it, and asked you to give them more.
You didn't flinch, the smile didn't dim, but I saw… They hurt you. Hurt you with cruel words and cruel actions, hurt you even with the things unspoken and undone. Wanted to hurt you, because you were there, and you wore your heart on your sleeve.
You didn't flinch, but I knew… And I did nothing.
Does that make me as bad as them?
You offered your warmth to everyone, anyone, even the no ones who the rest of us chose not to see.
You wore your heart on your sleeve, and swept up in the whirlwind that was you we couldn't stay untouched.
But touch was all you offered, wasn't it?
They didn't understand, but I saw… Saw with eyes so used to watching you that they couldn't stop.
You offered friendship, love, encouragement, aggravation or rivalry, whatever we needed. But it was fleeting touches, mere brushes of your light. It left us stronger, happier and more confident than before your passing. And you came again, and again, until we thought we were invincible.
You understood more than they ever knew, more than they ever will know. I know, but I will never tell… They chose not to see you then, and I will keep that side of you as mine. You wouldn't begrudge me that bit of selfishness.
You weren't cold, but you were calculating.
You touched us long enough to help us, but never long enough for us to give you something back. Not even those few of us who would have.
You wore your heart on your sleeve, but it was still yours.
I know you didn't want it to be, but it was.
You offered it to them, and they didn't notice. You didn't want it to be lonely anymore, but they wouldn't take it.
They took your life long before you were killed.
You always wore your heart on your sleeve, but the flame in your eyes went out. I saw… But I wasn't who you wanted to see you.
I wish I could have been better… No, not better; you would never use such a word. I wish I were different, so I could have been what you wanted. What you needed.
I would have held your heart dearer than anything, anyone. I would have given you mine, would have given you anything and everything if you had accepted it from me.
But I am me, and you were you, and here we are.
You died knowing that I acknowledged you, that I'd acknowledged you all along, and I know that was the most precious thing I could ever give you. I'm glad that you had that bit of comfort, at least.
I want to hate them for destroying you. I want to see them suffer far worse than they do now. They deserve it.
But you wouldn't want that.
You would want me to comfort them now that you can't.
I will forgive them, because it's the only thing I can do for you now.
No matter what they did, you only offered what they needed. I will try to be as strong.
I will try to wear my heart on my sleeve, and I will know that you're proud of me.
That's all I've ever needed.
Author's note: I honestly don't know where the death came from; I just wanted to write a Hinata POV drabble about Naruto, kind of explore how she sees him, and next thing you know, he was dead!
I hope you understood the difference between them (just the villagers in general) and them (I was thinking Sasuke and Sakura, but you can interpret it as someone else if you want). As for what Naruto wanted from them, I wanted it to be a bit vague. It could be love, it could be friendship, it could be simple recognition.
Personally, I think that despite all the Hokage-ranting in the manga/anime, Naruto isn't really asking for respect. He just wants to be accepted. (Though I might be out of line making assumptions, as I haven't read much beyond the three-year time jump.)
... And this is the longest attempt at justification for a fic I've ever written. I apologize for rambling.