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One, two, three, four.
If he counted the stairs, thought only of the stairs, then maybe he could unsee, unthink. Time would rewind, and Sakura would open the door when he knocked, smiling and laughing and alive.
Five, six, seven, eight.
But then he would remember the piece of paper, crumpled beyond recognition in his fist; the envelope lying discarded on the hallway floor of her apartment. Evidence.
Nine, ten, eleven, twelve.
Naruto gazed up at the sloping ceiling of the stairwell, dusty with laced cobwebs. He closed his eyes, feeling as if he hadn't slept for a century. This made him old, older than memory. Sakura was…dead.
Thirteen, fourteen…fifteen…slowly now.
"'Ey, you. Boy."
Sixteen…seventeen…stop.
An elderly woman peered down at him from the last landing, ten feet above him. Her expression was unreadable. "Looking up and stepping down is not wise, boy." She blinked slowly. Naruto felt as if she could see right through him; that she knew everything about him, about Sakura, about what had happened.
stay
"Are you upset she left without telling you?"
still
Naruto started. What? How could she-Impossible! She couldn't know; she wouldn't act so casually if she did-Or would she? I don't know this woman, I have no idea-
for
"She must have had an important mission, boy." The old woman stared at him suspiciously.
a
"A mission," he mumbled. "Yeah. A mission. Right." He scuffed the toe of one shoe along the length of the stair.
Naruto sighed. He was paranoid, jumping to conclusions the way he was. He was being ridiculous; she couldn't know anything about this. That obscene mess left in Sakura's apartment, all coalesced into a pathetically lacking note, full of cryptic little riddles, leaded with double meanings and mind games. He growled under his breath, glaring at the floor.
little
"Who are you, boy?"
while
"Never mind, I'm leaving." Naruto shoved his hands in his pockets, turning away from her.
Eighteen.
"Hold it right there, boy," the woman demanded. "Tell me your name." She crossed her arms, obviously waiting for a response.
Nineteen.
"Naruto. You happy? Can I leave now?" He didn't intend for his voice to sound so gruff, but gruff was better than a voice full of tears.
just
She frowned. "Wait there." The woman disappeared from view, going down the hallway, probably back to her apartment.
bide
Naruto fell back against the wall, sliding down into a sitting position against the cracked plaster. He let his head tilt back, covering his eyes with his arm. He was not crying. He was not. He didn't cry, not any more. But still, he felt heat gathering in his eyes, warmth trailing down his cheeks. She promised! I promised! He gritted his teeth. I have no control over anything!
your
"Boy. This is for you."
time
Naruto didn't look up. He was frozen, stuck in limbo by conflicting emotions, but he still heard the thud-schf of something flat hitting the landing just below him, then the eventual tak tak tak of the woman leaving.
He didn't want any more of this. He didn't want to know what else she had to say. Every time he even thought about the note, it sucked the energy out of him. But still, he felt obligated. She came across as so apathetic, so heartless, so broken in that letter, there was really no other option.
With a cough and a hasty wiping of the eyes, Naruto stood, and, after considering for a long moment, picked up a manila envelope. It was slightly weighty, fat with its contents. What the hell? How much did she write? The thought, though, of so many pages, ridden with guilt, made him shudder inside. With gathering dread, he started down the stairs again.
Twenty, twenty one, twenty two.
It felt like the innocent envelope tucked under his arm grew heavier with each step.
Twenty three, twenty four, twenty five.
It was a disturbing thought, really.
Almost there.
Being weighed down by someone else's life.
Twenty six, twenty seven, twenty eight.
Their mistakes.
Bottom.