PETRICHOR

(adj.) The pleasant, earthy smell after rain.

He saw black. No.

It's the colour of being lost.

No wait… that's not quite right either.

Could it be the colour of bruises?

No.

It was the colour of being lost.

He was the darkness, lost in himself with no light to guide him.

One with night, he saw a shivering figure hunched into a small ball, tears streaming down like raindrops.

Although it was dark and impossible to see, it was difficult to ignore the bright hues of yellow that stuck out.

Pretty soon the shadowed boy sat beside the trembling stranger. Mimicking the curled body and gripped knees. He shut his eyes tightly to forget the nightmares and the darkness,

To forget himself because nothing bothered him. The nightmares, the loneliness, the darkness, and pain were nothing to him, which was why he was scared of himself.

A couple of moments, the dark boy looked to see the blonde stranger was wandering for the exit.

Someone I helped... He finally recalled, the stranger was not in fact someone new, it was an old friend visiting his dreams.

Quietly, he got back up. Stretching his arm out to offer a confident hand to his best friend.

Blue eyes were beautifully revealed, clearly displaying trust as their fingers intertwined without hesitation.

They had done this before. Many years ago.

Both reached the end.

Previously, when the obsidian boy guided the blonde to the exit, the friend asked for him to come along to the outside. Naturally the coal stained boy refused, finding the idea of a new land filled with unknown dangers frightening.

The blue eyes boy understood, promising to return and try to come back for his new friend again.

Years later, the dark boy forgot about his only friend. Slowly he succumbed to the coldness and darkness, it was all he had, all that made him who he was.

It was what gave him purpose to avenge his family.

By now he had everything ready, but he stalled, finding more and more excuses to stay in the empty, cold abyss.

He had energy to get up, he knew how to leave but why was he refusing to leave?

Who was he waiting for?

Who was so important? Why do he feel a tight sucking pain in his chest? It felt like bricks were trying to rip a hole inside his intestines by trying to press through.

Make it stop.

I do not want to remember.

I do not need this.

This is not important.

It does not matter anymore.

I no longer care about the boy I was waiting for.

I do not want.

I do not care.

But do I?

I do not care about Naruto.

I am not here.

I do n-

Sasuke gasped, throwing himself upright, eyes tearing themselves open as fear filled his lungs and veins.

In slow breaths, he nearly choked on air trying to relax his throat allowing the air in easier.

Cold sweat over his spine, sweat disgustingly similar to slugs when it began sliding down his heaving body. Trembling, he rubbed the sides of his face in hopes of shaking off the irrational fear his body felt.

Annoyingly, his head pulsed in pain, heart rattling against the cage of ribs from his earlier slumber.

Sasuke tried to close his eyes, but he received flashes of bright glowing blue eyes.

A ghost from the past.

Calmly he took a deep breath before heading down to his bathroom, intending to splash his face and neck with cold water in hopes of banishing the sweat, and anxiety.

Just a bad memory resurfacing. An obvious result of thinking about it the faded past.

Vague blurs of the last bits of my dream played in his head like a radio. Only the vital facts were missing, the face and voice were blurred strokes of skin to the original.

Almost trembling from the burning adrenaline that abusively ravaged his limbs, Sasuke hobbled towards his faintly lit bathroom, automatically lighting up as his feet touched the marble tiles. One of the quirks of being wealthy.

Resting a moment, Sasuke knew the dream itself hadn't been what had shaken him, it was the missing memory of the person he had locked out for years.

He reached out for the smooth, cold bitten, steel handle to form his hands into a cradle, gathering the thin liquid.

Splashing the water against his face clashed against his skin temperature, calming immediately as water slipped down his skin, mimicking the heat of his body, clammy skin calming.

Wiping away the excess water, Sasuke glanced at the mirror. Taking a dizzy step back, Sasuke wanted to tear his eyes away from the distressing sight. His repressed memory had stepped out of his conscious and followed him by reflection.

Volatile blue eyes stared blankly. Face contorted in mild anguish, as if waiting for Sasuke to find him. But it was a burning sight. A lie.

The man before him was as close as Sasuke could remember. The eyes were burning, the golden hair a shade off the correct hue, more placid than its original blazing glow.

Sasuke flattened the tips of his fingers on the false reflection. Hesitantly, Sasuke tried to turning his facial muscles into a smile in hopes the reflection would do the same, moving closer, hoping to possibly feel the warmth of the creamy skin.

It did, though it was much broader and radiant in contrast to Sasuke's impoverished, drained one.

To Sasuke's dismay, the water he left running had transitioned to heated water, steam emanating in cloudy waves which clouded the mirror, obstructing the visual mirror of his unrecalled friend

Slapping the tap off, Sasuke rubbed his palm against the runny surface, brushing off the beaded water that gathered at the surface.

He gritted his teeth in anger, his damp hand clenching in bitter enragement, his head dropping against the solid surface, closing his eyes in resentment, unsure where to place the painful feeling of loss, like something he almost had in his fingers had transformed into smoke, escaping his careful grasp.

What am I waiting for?

Synthesia.

A combination of your senses which you may see the colors of music, taste colors, and smell from words.

So what would nostalgia smell, look, and taste like?

Would it smell like the ocean? The faint smell of sea foam softly invading your senses in gentle breezes.

Would it look like a happy smile with regret?

The taste would be bitter and dry, addicting and sweet.

Sweet because of the peace and happiness the memory offered, but bitter because it was in the past, therefore it was impossible to return to those times, especially with the way it ended, making it a desirous drug.

It started off with baby steps, gentle pats on the ground. Hearing was the first sense to awaken, then a wave of damp mold invaded his nose, there was nothing to touch besides his own skin and the ground. Suddenly, Naruto tasted blood, apparently it was from a cut lip. Finally, when sight returned, Naruto found himself overwhelmed with the continuous abyss before him, he had been walking in a void the entire time.

It hurts. His feet stopped, taking the time to gently brush the side of his lip to meet liquefied iron dyed the colour wine, for a moment Naruto couldn't help but stare at the deep colour, ignoring the throbbing burn his lip had.

Why am I here?

Soft laughter echoed in the shadow dipped landscape, Naruto instantly recognized the voices, which was why he jerked his head up in fear.

There it was, a white blanket of land before Naruto like some kind of theatrical play.

Thinking back on it, the day itself hadn't been cold, it just had a lot of snow.

Like a scene, Naruto watched the old orphans he had once been tortured by, beat continuously at a crying body.

Naruto knew he had to make them stop before he felt his turbulent emotions explode from his hysterical buildup, but his feet were cemented into the ground, as if the black soil had eaten its way to his ankles.

"Stop it." He began.

Kick. Punch. Slap.

"Hey… Listen to me!" He called out, baring his teeth out, buckling his limbs forward in hopes of breaking free of his earthly prison.

Neither listened to his demand, or couldn't hear him.

Watching for too long, Naruto had to turn away, he didn't like looking into the depths of his memories of being an orphan.

Once the cries stopped, Naruto heart the faint rustling of limbs, the crunch the snow offered with each step; with vivid memory stored in his brain, Naruto already knew they were dragging his younger body down to the freezing river that had almost succeeded in freezing him to death.

Naruto ceased his struggle when the scene before him get eaten by the darkness. The relief had only been momentary as another had arose below his feet. Everything had suddenly inverted, his feet mobile once again.

As he took in the bleach colour around him, Naruto's left ear twitched to the sound of mild crying. Hesitantly, he turned and saw a black haired boy kneeling beside a hospital bed, head down just at the edge in a nest his arms made.

Why didn't he say goodbye to me? Naruto asked himself, remembering the peace he had felt when he was laying in the cold snow with his only friend by his side.

Perhaps he was angry… For me dying without attempting to cling to life, maybe he thought I was leaving him, he must be upset.

Naruto slowly approached the trembling boy, kneeling on one knee to get a better look, waiting for the young boy to make the first move.

Quietly, the boy lifted his head, smoldering eyes meeting Naruto's. Naruto had nearly forgotten the smoky eyes his friend had, it was a welcoming sight indeed.

"Naruto." He softly confirmed.

"Yes?"

"It's scary here. In the dark cold world."

"Dark?" Naruto blinked back stupidly "What are you talking about? It's not dark at a-"

Just as he was about to finish, the word dyed itself a smooth charcoal in a blink of an eye. In confusion, Naruto scanned the area, only to find his childhood friend suddenly go missing when his head returned.

"Sasuke?" He called out, his voice almost soundless.

"Go back. You don't need me anymore. A familiar voice echoed, hauntingly young and sad.

Shaking his head "No. I can't, not until I find you again. Turning my back is the same as abandoning you for my own selfish goals."

"But what you're doing is selfish. You're scouting for me, even though it's clear that I don't care about you anymore, you're only pursuing me out of selfish relief of the guilt that's tied you up. Haven't you heard of letting the past go?"

Sucking his lip tightly, Naruto felt anger shiver inside him like shaken carbonated water.

"That's not it. It's true I regret letting you go, but only because we never said goodbye. You used to call me an airhead, but I can distinguish guilt. My actions aren't fueled by guilt, they're motivated by our past."

"…If you truly mean that…" The voice became small and breathy

"Come find me, and show me you care." The person before him suddenly appeared. An adult with a similar height of Naruto's, pale skin, an arrogant smirk decorating the face, the eyes smoldering.

Naruto parted his lips in shock as his eyes switched open. He fell from dream to reality.

He was unsure of his surroundings, trying to scan the details of his dream in his groggy state of consciousness. Unfortunately Naruto had been ripped away from what was likely a vital hint of finding his friend. Finding the clammy sweat incredibly disgusting, Naruto threw off his thick sheets to head down to his bathroom, almost tripping on a drawer he left pulled out, getting away with a reddening patch above his knee.

The window was opened wide, a square cool mouth that breathed out gusty surges that sent waves of goosebumps down his body.

Naruto peeled off his thin tank top that cling his broad shoulders, his briefs tossed off.

Impatiently extending a hand out on the running showerheads, hoping for a temperature change, Naruto found his thoughts muddled from the intense awakening he had, the dream he conjured, how frustratingly close he was to remembering something.

Naruto knew better than anyone, that at an orphanage, there was always some kind of emotional or mental burden a lone child had. It didn't even have to be a large burden.

The smallest burdens were the most unfair. The tiny ache that pulsed in resentment of other children with families never failed in reminding the child how hollow their heart was. The irritating pain wasn't large enough to make a person cry, but it was succeeded in making a child feel contempt for having nothing; Naruto had seen it happen in everyone at his orphanages, always in different forms, but it was still there.

The spray of water warmed comfortably for Naruto to slip in, savoring the way his body was cleansed of unwanted sweat and nerves, enjoying the hot steam and water that trailed down his taut skin.

His friend, seemed to carry something heavier. Remembering his actions, his best friend's eyes would linger on passing families, not on disdain, but in gentle blue coloured regret, soon staining to an intense angry wine.

Thinking on it now, his friend must have had a terrible accident of some sort in regards of his family the way cold eyes would stare at happy families. Naruto knew his friend was suffering, but he hadn't done anything about it, never tried to ask about it, comfort his friend because Naruto had chosen to be selfish and sulk over his own problems.

But when was that a rare problem among children?

At the time, Naruto was barely an adolescent, he was ignorantly dense to the people around him, despite this, his friend was aware of many things. More open than anyone in the small town, which was probably why his friend had no qualms with being Naruto's friend, he knew Naruto wasn't worthless, he taught Naruto the beginnings of self worth which allowed him to open up more to others.

Regrettably, when he realized the gift he had been given, it was too late to return the favour.

Now, his mentality had surged immensely, more than ever, Naruto was determined to locate his friend to give a heartfelt thanking, if his friend was unhappy, Naruto would be sure to return the kindness he had been shown because he knew that without his friend giving him hope, he might have never made it this far without mistrusting everyone he'd meet.

Stepping out of the shower Naruto threw back on his briefs, discarding the idea if wearing a tank top as he settled into bed, fatigue lulling him to sleep once his anxiety had finally ceased.

This time as Naruto slept, his mind was clear as crystal.

Promising his lost friend many things that Naruto would keep.

Morning strolled in its usual mood. Bright, and flamboyant, some despising the intense rays of light, some finding comfort that the sun rose with selfless heat and light.

Sasuke hated mornings with a passion, but today, he was a lot more on the edge since the sun with the blue sky reminded him of the haunting blue eyes that had stared at him in the middle of the night.

As a man of logic and problem solving, he didn't believe in supernatural occurrences since it was a preposterous excuse to run away from problems, which was why he refused to believe that his past had taken the form of familiar human for the sake of reuniting with his lost friend. Regardless of this issue, this wouldn't get in the way of his work because he didn't care.

The past of his orphanage days were nothing. Sasuke only needed himself and his future to satisfy his life, the past only brought useless thoughts, regrets, and worst of all, fear.

Once Sasuke reached his office in the morning, Sasuke called Naruto about possible ideas for the art competition that was around next year. Not a lot of time considering the skills Naruto had to brush up on as well as studying up on art history. Sasuke demanded Naruto to come over in the morning to brainstorm possible designs.

"What do you mean that this isn't good enough?" The blonde man whined harshly after his eighth rough sketch had been rejected by Sasuke.

Almost as deadly as his looks, Sasuke didn't hold back on criticism.

Dark ash colored eyes glared down Naruto, warning him to keep his tone down in the building since it was a bustling morning, which meant Sasuke had a pounding ache on the side of his temple.

Naruto's arms dropped and he scowled at Sasuke but said nothing, begrudgingly allowing Sasuke to further speak.

The brunette cocked his leg over his other one and let out a stressed sigh, rubbing his temple, his headache had not left him since last night, a lingering effect of restless sleep.

"As I was saying...Naruto..." He continued, mildly irritated, he shifted through the papers that contained key requirements to participate in the art competition.

"Luckily for you, they expect to see abstract paintings. The problem we have, is that hundreds of experienced artists will gather from the country and a few more from neighboring countries." He smacked the papers harshly on his desk, looking at Naruto as he propped on his elbows and entertained his fingers together and rested his head on the back of his fingers.

Naruto wanted to say something but he bit back his words, Sasuke was only trying to ensure that he would get through this first round of competitors. He should be holding his tongue and listen to advice, he wasn't in any position to complain at this point, things would only get harder, there was no room for any sort of whining, he couldn't screw this up.

Even if it meant putting up with Sasuke.

Sharp blue eyes glanced to Sasuke, concentrating for a good minute before he crossed his arms, letting out a shallow huff, feeling irritated for allowing Sasuke to continue.

He gave a begrudging nod.

Sasuke dutifully continued, his voice taking a softer approach as he appreciated Naruto's attempt to withhold from speaking.

Going straight to the point Sasuke pointed out "Your techniques are mediocre in contrast to your excellent ability to observe colour. Since we have strong competition, we need to prepare you to make a unique impression with the first set of judges, about seventy percent will fall out from poor skill or otherwise, the second set will look closer at the artworks, taking time to analyze. Afterwards, only two to three percent will remain. The last stage depends on the new judges, what they want to choose as a final way to single a winner depends on them."

Ice coloured eyes focused on Sasuke's mouth, listening carefully to each syllable uttered, making mental notes along the way, finding himself strangely mesmerized by the soft lips.

"Chances of coming out as winner is slim in your current state. Which is why you need to choose something you are most passionate about and display all your emotions in it. Do not leave a single detail." He explained.

Naruto nodded numbly, slightly overwhelmed by the chunk of information that was dumped on him. Sasuke frowned and sat back into his soft seat.

"Despite my simplified explaining, you haven't understood a thing have you?" He sighed softly, why was it the brilliant artists were the most difficult to have a civilized, monotone conversation. "As they say, ignorance is bliss, things must be so simple for you."

Sasuke supposed it was because his world had dimmed into a black and white category, it made sense that talented artists were bursting with many things to say, having so much colour inside them like grenades of hues waiting to explode on go a canvas. Sasuke on the other hand was empty, his shell a grey husk of silent pain.

Naruto's eyes furrowed at the backhanded insult "I suppose you're any better?"

"Considering my intelligence, success, organization, and overall lifestyle, yes."

"There are other intelligences you know, when it comes to painting, I'm on a whole new level." Naruto mused, proud that he proved he was as smart as the next guy.

Sasuke smirked tapping his desk with his pen he held in his right hand, amused rather than impressed.

"As for today, your 'intelligence' can be put to the test then. Impress me." His hand slid some blank squares of sketch paper towards Naruto.

Naruto stared confusedly at Sasuke, an eyebrow quirked up in curiosity.

Sasuke rolled his eyes at the missed obviousness of his silent suggestion.

"Draw out something." Sasuke answered. "Not forced. Something that's had a large impact on your life, can be a small or big change. Anything will work, which is why it's difficult to tell the difference between true art and glamorized finger painting. True art has purpose. Show me which one you fall under.

Naruto shifted uncomfortably in his seat, wringing his fingers together in a rather tentative manner; his eyes darting back and forth to Sasuke and the ground.

"Um, I already have a good idea of what I am doing but...I usually paint stuff, then branch from it, I never really painted anything directly related to my purpose, there's multiple parts that creates my inspiration, art isn't so fickle." He mumbled, sounding as if he was talking to himself rather than Sasuke.

"If you play it safe, then you might as well give up. With a half asssed excuse like that, you won't get anywhere, so to save time, you either give up a small part of privacy to earn a shot of winning or leave this building, there are sacrifices you need to make right now." Smoky pools of colour intensified, Sasuke often lied to get what he wanted, so at the moment he should have stood up and realize what a huge mistake he was doing. Naruto Uzumaki was talented, much more talented than Sasuke could allow his pride to admit, but somehow, every time he looked in his direction, his smooth lies would come out as solid truths and warnings; he just couldn't lie to such an open face.

Marine blue eyes were clear watery windows to something akin to honesty, golden lashes decorating the edges like a windowpane.

Topping it all with a blooming smile that seemed too kind for reality to have raised it. Sasuke would have assumed Naruto had lived a simple life going through normalcy like the fortunate few born in good families, but what stopped him from assuming such things was when they got into the topic of art.

They'd talk about the things Naruto had painted, the things he wanted to paint, Naruto's eager smile would shorten, still smiling but tighter, as if Naruto stubbornly forced his nerves to hold the smile in place, but it seemed he never failed in fooling anyone with it, except for Sasuke, because he was too familiar with that bittersweet smile, his old friend had smiled like that when hiding a wounded feeling, Sasuke had thought his company had been enough to ease the pain, but he knew it wasn't, he almost wished he could go back and act more honest, but he was grown up now, an adult. A walking column of cold ice.

There were rules for a reason.

The insulted look Naruto gave persuaded Sasuke to repeat himself in a much more considerate approach.

"Something personal will get attention, it will intrigue and fascinate them. The rawer the emotion, the better." Or at least he tried.

"Try drawing the first thing that comes to mind." Sasuke offered the pen in his hand to Naruto.

The golden haired glanced at the paper and pen before glancing at Sasuke.

Eventually Naruto stretched his alarm and gently took the pen in his rough right hand, the anxiety that knotted in his stomach began unwinding as the ball of the pen began to roll favorably in smooth strokes. Slowly, Naruto's face drained of emotion, eyes settling on the fibre of paper, following the lines before he finally set down the pen. He slid the paper towards Sasuke modestly.

The sudden personality change had caught Sasuke off guard, his hand was still touching the paper, carefully, Sasuke laid his hand on the opposite side of the paper, tugging gently to see of Naruto was truly giving him permission to see what he had drew.

Blood ran cold, it was the same sensation as drinking frigid water with an empty stomach, only this time, he felt it everywhere, and it gripped his.

The circular logo's top half was red, the bottom white, extending with a white rectangle.

A Japanese Uchiha fan.