101 Words
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto nor do I own it's characters. I make no money with this.
Author's Note: Hey thar.^^ God, I seriously had no time to write ANYTHING in 30 days. That's... traumatizing. I can't believe one can suck as much at organizing their time as I do. (That sounds strange.) Anyways, next chapter up. I've got the final chapter ready, and I have the basic concept for chapters 48 and 49. (Wow, sounds like I'm writing 30,000 words chapters...) Let's hope I get them done before I turn 84........... [And: I'm SO SORRY this took me this f***ing long. .]
Perfection
Naruto was a work of sharp contrasts, inside and outside and down to the very core.
He was loud and obnoxious, a silent force at Sasuke's back, braggy about everything and nothing, yet modest when it mattered. He was dominant, yet oh so ready to submit, strong and determined and insecure like a child.
There were his eyes – those light azure depths that reflected everything that went on in the blond's heart and soul, always honest always alive – and his gorgeous body – all lean muscle and sun-kissed skin, scarless and unmarred safe for that one spot right above his heart. And there was his eye-catching appearance, his baggy clothes – hideously orange of all things! – hiding that body that Sasuke knew people would kill and die for and distracting from those eyes that could capture a person with one look alone. Attracting attention for all the wrong reasons...
There was his devotion to his village, to Konoha – the place where he'd grown up hated by everyone, the place where he'd been rejected and denied too many times to still remember all of them, the place where he'd found allies, friends, a makeshift family, the place where he belonged. And there was his devotion to Sasuke, his readiness to leave himself and his dreams behind for the one person he couldn't let go of.
He was softness and raw strength, an untamed force of nature if he put his mind to it, shaky and shockingly fragile in his existence. A soul so pure – so true – it hurt to see him struggle to the painful process of learning faced with a world of death and darkness, powerful and aware and oh so tainted with his sins...
There was Naruto, free and wild and unbound, a cheerful whirlwind of chaos and life, unafraid and brave in the face of danger, bright and radiant like a beagle light in the depth of night, open-hearted and tolerant and always ready to save, help and support.
And there was Naruto – the smile behind what had never truly been a mask – dark and dangerous and desperate and frustrated and fighting just to get through. Struggling and failing time and again. Helpless and alone, without perspective, hurt and betrayed and still feeling all those scars, doubting wandering, wanting. Needing.
Naruto was a work of sharp contrasts, inside and outside and down to the core. People just tended to overlook what should be screamingly obvious.