
Drowning
Naruto awoke with a jolt, gasping for air as his eyelids fluttered open, greeted by the cracks and stains of his apartment ceiling. He lay on his bed, disoriented and shrouded in a suffocating emptiness. The room was still, save for the faint glow of moonlight that seeped through the window, casting long, eerie shadows on the walls. The familiar surroundings only deepened the hollowness that had taken root in his chest, an abyss that threatened to consume him.
He felt hollow, entirely and completely drowning in the void he could feel creeping out to surround his heart. Like the vines of devil snare, sadness wrapped his body in its clutches, squeezing until all he could feel was sorrow and pain. It wound into his bones, the deepest crevices of his organs, of his heart, and remaining burrowed there, Naruto doubted it would leave anytime soon.
He'd almost forgotten, how it felt, this devastating, all-consuming loss. It seems that he'd gotten too comfortable, too greedy and complacent. Anything and everything he loved was eventually lost, that was the rule he had lived by in his previous life. A predominant prophecy that was both inevitable and unavoidable. He was a bloody fool to think that this one would be any different.
He closed his eyes, breathing in, and was immediately accosted by the haunting image of Shisui’s falling form. Two arms rose to pull at his face, burrowing into his golden hair and pulling, as if to physically dispel the memory. It only helped to make it worse. Memories overlapped and overtook each other, Sirius’s blank, shocked gaze, Cedric’s petrified eyes, too open to have realized what had happened to him, Lupin and Tonk’s hands holding onto each other almost desperately even in death. Fred’s cold skin, blue in its hue as his brother wept over his corpse. Shisui’s last apology as he plunged to his death, a sad smile twisting his bloodied face as gravity took its hold. A sob broke out of him as he scratched at his head, eyes flying open as he lurched forward, wanting nothing more than to shut off his mind, to make it all stop.
He was heaving, his chest expanding unnaturally as he tried to settle his racing heart. He was gone, he was really, truly gone, wasn't he? The boy who’s shown him the meaning of kindness, who made him feel cared for when everything in this world pointed otherwise, was gone, just like that.
He wasn’t just gone, no, he’d chosen to kill himself. To leave the world and everyone in it behind. To leave his village, his clan, to leave Itachi. To leave him.
And Itachi, oh how it must have hurt him. He thought with mounting anguish. Where was the teen now, was he alone? Had he- had he abandoned him too?
It was then that he finally looked around, hoping to find any trace of his friend there with him. His feet felt unstable as he shuffled onto them. Scrapes and cuts littered his limbs like paint on a chaotic canvas, a testament to the struggle he'd put up back on that cliff. The ache in his joints, and his shoulders only serve to underline the memory.
His gaze drifted to his bedside table, where, to his surprise and dread, a small note lay. With trembling fingers, arms tentative and shaking with anxiety, he raised it to the light, eyes squeezing shut as he read the words imprinted into the fraying parchment.
In black, shaky ink, two simple words were written. "I'm sorry." The message was like a scar carved into his skin, a haunting lament that seared into his very being.
He could be wrong, this could mean just that, that he was sorry for their loss, but somehow, deep down, Naruto knew that it wasn’t the case.
He was gone, wasn’t he? Naruto couldn’t picture him anywhere but at his side otherwise.
The realization hit Naruto like a stunner straight to the chest, and he felt as though a part of his very soul had been torn away. The room was silent, but the void within him echoed with the silence of abandonment. He had been left alone, alone with the tormenting questions that clawed at his mind, leaving him feeling adrift in a sea of uncertainty.
The room seemed to close in on him, its fraying walls serving as silent witnesses to his grief. Shadows danced in the corners as if mocking him, and he longed for the lightness of the forest, the cascade of the waterfall, and the shared pain that he had felt with Itachi.
His hand trembled as he clutched the crumpled note, a lifeline to a connection now severed. The world outside was still, unmoving as if time itself had come to a standstill. The apartment that had once been his sanctuary had become a mausoleum of memories, each corner echoing with the laughter, the companionship, and the unspoken bond that had once flourished between them.
The room seemed to whisper of loneliness, its stillness a haunting presence that enveloped Naruto. He yearned for Itachi's return, for an explanation, for the comfort of that connection, but the silence was all that remained. The emptiness of the apartment mirrored the void within Naruto's heart, and he felt like a solitary wanderer in a desolate landscape of despair.
Naruto's sobs, like a mournful symphony, resonated in the quiet apartment. He was lost in a labyrinth of his own emotions, grappling with the anguish of Itachi's abrupt departure and the lingering questions that tormented his soul. The world had become a place of isolation, and he longed for closure, for the reunion of the broken bonds, and for the solace that would allow him to mend his fractured heart.
Through it all, Itachi watched from the shadows, perched just out of sight, feeling a heavy weight settle in his chest. His heart ached as he witnessed the depth of Naruto's grief. The boy's tears were like falling stars, illuminating the vast expanse of the room and highlighting the chasm that had suddenly opened between them. Itachi longed to step out of the darkness, to offer comfort and explanations, but he knew that this was a choice he had to make – a choice that would save Naruto from the darkness that was to come.
From his concealed vantage point, the ninja’s eyes remained locked on the heart-wrenching scene. The moonlight bathed the room in a surreal glow, casting long, ghostly shadows that danced to the rhythm of Naruto's cries. The bond they had shared, forged in the crucible of joint moments and whispered confidences, had now been shattered, and the agony etched into Naruto's features was a reflection of the torment that gripped Itachi's own soul.
Itachi’s fingers trembled as he clutched them to his chest, Naruto’s agony threatened to devour him.
And yet, he knew, that he couldn’t do anything about it. He had condemned himself to a path that was dark and treacherous, and he couldn't bear to drag Naruto, a boy who had become like a younger brother to him, deeper into that abyss. The pain of parting was a searing blade in his chest, but Itachi knew that it was necessary, for Naruto's safety, and the fate of the village.
The Uchiha clan, with its intricate web of secrets, ambitions, and enmities, had always been a labyrinth that Itachi had navigated with the extremists of cautions. The memories of his family, the elders who had set him on this perilous path, hung over him like a storm cloud.
His impending decision loomed like a thunderhead on the horizon of his thoughts. The village was on the brink of chaos, and the Uchiha clan's aspirations threatened to push them into a catastrophic confrontation. Itachi's loyalties were a fragile balance, a tightrope walk between his commitment to the village and the ties that bound him to his clan.
With a heart heavy as lead, Itachi understood that a moment of reckoning was inexorably approaching. The fate of his clan, the security of the village, and the ideals he had held dear were all inextricably intertwined. He had to make a choice, a choice that would not only reshape the course of his life but also leave scars on his very soul. Condemning him or absolving him, he knew not. The weight of that decision pressed upon him like a mountain, threatening to crush him under its immense burden. It seemed that he would be losing everything he held dear either way.
Itachi's eyes lifted back to lock on Naruto, the boy who had become an unexpected source of light in his shadowed existence. He mourned the loss of their bond, his heart shattering with each of Naruto's heartrending sobs. The guilt was a relentless storm that raged within him, but he knew that there was no turning back. The path he had chosen was one fraught with darkness, and the choices he was about to make would set in motion a cascade of events that would challenge his resolve, redefine his destiny, and cast a shadow that would linger long after the tears had dried.
His mind was haunted by the memory of another soul-crushing loss he had endured—Shisui Uchiha. Shisui, his best friend and brother in all but name, had been a steadfast presence in Itachi's life. The memories of their shared laughter, their dreams, and the countless missions they had undertaken together, painted a vivid portrait of their unbreakable bond.
His absence now weighed heavily on his heart. Having ceased to exist right before his very eyes. The image was forever etched into his consciousness like a scar that refused to fade. Shisui's face, twisted in pain and determination, his empty eyes reflecting the abyss of despair, was a visage that Itachi could never forget.
The moment Shisui had leaped into the abyss, something profound had shifted within him. A surge of emotions, a tumultuous mixture of guilt, grief, and despair, had consumed him. Itachi's Mangekyo Sharingan had awakened in that heart-rending instant, a testament to the anguish and turmoil that had engulfed his soul. The visual manifestation of his loss, his despair, and his irreversible transformation had come at a devastating cost.
The awakening of his Mangekyo had not been a gift, but a curse, a reminder of the price he had paid for the choices he had made. Itachi knew that he couldn't afford to show weakness, not to his clan, not to the village, and certainly not to himself. But in the depths of his heart, he mourned Shisui's loss, a pain that was as inescapable as the dark shadows that now danced in his once-vibrant eyes.
Beyond the window, the village lay in restless slumber, blissfully unaware of the tempest that churned within, of the doom that had been set in stone the moment Shisui Uchiha had thrown himself to the gallows.
Itachi's gaze remained fixed on Naruto as the boy crumbled to the ground, drawing his knees up to his chest, hiding his grief and pain from the world. This child, this boy who had come to matter so much to him. He couldn't help but see a reflection of his own pain in Naruto's anguish, the shared experience of losing someone dear. Itachi's heart ached for the boy who was now grieving a loss that was all too familiar, and he wished he could offer solace, even as he grappled with his own turbulent emotions.
And still, he remained bolted in place, body refusing to move even as his heart urged him to break the distance and comfort the boy.
He stayed there, feeling the cold seep into his skin, tears frying on his freezing skin, until the first rays of light seeped into the sky, painting the world in a melancholic glow, bathing the trees with a new-found warmth.
He sat there, crouched in silent vigil, watching for what felt like possibly the last time, over the small boy. He could almost hear Shisui’s voice taunting him from his side. ‘Are you seriously going to stand all the way out here?’ He would have asked, tone teasing despite the serious look in his eyes. ‘Didn’t we say we were going to try and show him what it means to be a family?’ His heart panged and he failed miserably at keeping his composure as a new wave of guilt hit him. This was it, wasn’t it? This was where it would all start. The long line of sins and depravities he was going to commit. This was the point of no return.
Suddenly feeling as though his presence alone would taint the world around him, he dropped down to the ground. Unable to bear the sight any longer.
Naruto had long fallen asleep, huddled on the cold tiles of the floor, as if through a feeble attempt to protect himself from the horrors of the world around him.
With agony in his chest and heartbreak in his soul, Itachi walked away. He needed to talk to the Clan, he needed to talk to the elders. He needed to give Danzo his answer.
It was then that Itachi realized that his decision had already been made. He had only to go through with it. It seemed that hell itself awaited him now, and all he had to do was walk willingly into its fiery embrace.
_________________________________
The days passed like the trickling sand of an hourglass, sluggish and hazy in their varieties, passing without truly being perceived by Naruto’s unanchored consciousness. He doesn’t know how long he stays there, nestled into the somber expanse of his cold room. The shadows and lights seemed to blend together, creating a perfect graveyard of colors. It made it impossible for Naruto to tell how much time had passed and how many days had flown by while he remained there, wishing for the floor to swallow him up, for his body to turn to dust and disappear.
Maybe if he stayed there long enough, then the hunger and pain would finally take hold of him. He supposed that he had more people waiting for him on the other side than on this one. So, really, what did he have to lose?
He winced at the thought, practically imagining Shisui’s glare at his morbid thoughts. But then again, what right would he have to judge him? Anger and grief warred with each other. He couldn't be mad at the dead, and yet, he was. With every fiber of his being, he was livid. The kind of fury that burned and froze simultaneously everything in its wake. Along with the anger, came the guilt. If he had been faster, if he had actual control of his magic, if he had been a better friend. If, if, if.
He wanted to shout, to break things, and yet, memories from long past told him that it wouldn’t solve anything. It didn’t stop the light from flickering around him, nor did it prevent the glass from vibrating with every bout of anguish that pooled out of him in waves.
A loud growl echoed through the emptiness, his hunger rearing its ugly head back at him. Sighing softly, he turned to lay on his side, his body feeling heavy as he clutched the bed sheets tighter. He should get up, he knew. If he stayed like this anymore, he would soon wither away.
As he contemplated that morosely inviting thought, a knock suddenly sounded from the door to his apartment. His heart rate skyrocketed. Hope flares in his gut as he unwillingly pictures Itachi’s waiting form.
On shaky, fragile legs, he got up, one hand holding the wall for support as he made his way to the door.
“Naruto-kun?” A voice, distinctly not Itachi’s questioned just as his fingers wrapped around the doorknob.
He could almost see the metaphorical weight of his hope getting crushed beneath his heels. Pathetic, he was really pathetic. His eyes watered against his will, and he blinked rapidly to dispel the evidence of his sorrow. Although, he figured that it wouldn’t do much to hide the days’ worth of evidence lingering on his skin, on his entire body.
Looking at his figure reflected in the tinted glass to the side of his door, he could see the grease in his hair, golden locks weighed down by their own consistency, sticking to his forehead in a curtain. His eyes were swelled, dark bruises inclosing his red-rimmed orbs like a frame. His skin was a shade of pale that spoke of an already long-buried corpse. In short, he looked awful.
“Naruto-kun?” The voice repeated softly. “Are you there?”
“Wh-who is it?” He winced as his voice sounded hoarse, dryness scraping his throat with every syllable, a reminder of his growing thirst and the hours he’d spent sobbing his heart out.
“It’s me, Ayame." Oh, he hadn't expected it to be her, despite the feminine tilt to her voice. "We heard about- about everything." She seemed to gather herself before continuing. "We were worried about you, Dad figured some food would help. Can you open the door for me, please?"
Panic, hot and scalding flared inside of him. He couldn’t let her, or anyone see him like this. So pathetic and weak. He couldn’t burden anyone else with his problem, not again. His heart hardened as he came to a decision then. He’d made a mistake getting that close with anyone, he wouldn’t go through with this again. “I can’t” He whispered, a promise to the world and more importantly, to himself.
"O-Oh." She seemed taken back by his response, as if not expecting it. "W-well, I'll just leave it right here, alright?" She fumbled her words, and a distinct sound of a plastic bag hitting the ground softly emanated from behind the door. "Please take care of yourself, Naruto." She whispered, sadness coating her words. "We care about you." She said louder, and he could hear her hand touching the door as if hesitating. "I'll let you rest." She said finally, before taking her leave.
He could feel his energy dwindle with every step he heard her take, fading as she got further and further away. With trembling fingers he opened the door, eyes falling to the discarded bag. A rich, delicious aroma wafted from it and he almost let himself cry again. Still, he gathered himself and the food and shuffled back into his room.
If a few tears escaped him as he ate his ramen, then no one was there to witness it.
chapter 12 already up!