~Mask of Hatred~
"Naruto… the Yondaime… was your father." Naruto's face froze, his smile strangely hollow. "…"
It should've been obvious. But everyone was so blind to the truth. Nobody noticed the painstaking similarities. Blonde hair…? Check. Blue eyes…? Check. Signed the Toad Contract…? God damn fucking Check.
Close your eyes, and sow them shut.
Same exuberant love of ramen…? Kakashi should've known that. Should've seen that. He should've helped him! Little Naruto all alone, everyone so blind to his pain, so deaf to his screams… nobody came to help. Nobody wanted to believe, to know.
Clap your ears and hear them pop.
Sandaime could've stopped them. He could've just released the knowledge, and let him live a happy life, albeit one under constant assassinations… he'd rather that, than one of constant oppression. Of ostracism… the pain of constant threat, was better then the pain of constant threat and constant hatred. At least the village would've loved him. Fucking clan-loving bastards...
Bite your tongue, and cut it out.
Dear old Jiraiya. Dear, old, Godfather Jiraiya. Godfather. Fucking… GODFATHER.
What kind of thing was Naruto supposed to say to that? Go down to his grave, say "Oh Hi, Ero-sennin. Thanks for not being there in, well, my entire god damn childhood. No hard feelings. Really." Sure, he had the spy network to maintain, perverted novels to write (They were good. They had plot. Plot filled with, but not revolving around, breasts) and et cetera, et cetera, but he could've at least visited. Once. Twice. He only stumbled against the aging ninja on coincidence. Coincidence. "Oh look! There's that godson I completely forgot even existed! Let's hope nobody knows about that, minus Tsunade! Not that she'd ever tell him, wandering drunkard she is!"
Wish so hard that it would stop.
Tsunade watched from the Hokage's Crystal Ball as Naruto sat upon the Yondaime's head brooding darkly. There was a palpable aura of depression… but above that, stagnating hatred. Like a cloud, it hovered over them. A dark, red cloud. If only she had know… only she had realised that Jiraiya had forgotten. She knew all this time, but she thought Jiraiya had taken care of it. His student, not hers. She wanted to give herself a chakra-powered punch to the head.
Blind and deaf to his suffering, and silent to his oppressors; hatred born of idealistic visions shatter the image of some of Konoha's greatest men in the eyes of a sacrifice…
A\N: Well, uh... this one is certainly larger than the others. To be honest, I don't really know why; it just kind of stole my idea, ran away with it and refused to give it back until it was done.
Good end result though. The little divider segments are actually part of some weird poem-thingy I started thinking of during my Life Skills class (Also known the biggest bludge of all humanity).
