"Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray the Lord my soul to keep

If I should die before I wake

I pray the Lord my soul to take"

~ Children's bedtime prayer


'I love you like I cannot love myself. You are the one I breath, constantly; I cannot live without your scent your touch. Do not leave me! For I am nothing without you! I fear sleep for I might wake and find it was nothing more than a dream. And then...What would I do without you my love? My beloved your eyes are my only solace in the sea of insults and treachery. If only for a small glance from your eyes would my heart lift and soar with heavenly bliss. Only to be near you that is all I ask, all I can ask. For my love for you is forbidden by the black strangling grip of society.

And now I must take up my ever-cracking mask in hopes that it will hold for another day, another insult, and another hurt. All I wish to ask of you, in this the silence of the abandoned room, is to come soon and save me from that which taunts me through this silence. Even now I can feel their stares of contempt and wish that I remembered what it is to cry. Oh sweet release...'

The scratching of pen against paper stopped as the sound of distant footsteps reached his ears. A soft sigh escaped his lips and he put the feathered pen, it had come with the small book, into the page were he had been writing to mark his spot. He never actually ended the one entry, in fact he just kept writing, if necessary starting a new paragraph to indicate change in subject.

The book was small just about a centimeter longer than his hand from wrist to the tip of his middle finger. But it was also thick and he had found the more he wrote the more pages he had to write on. It was covered in a rich, dark color one could almost call maroon. It had no lock or anyway to keep it closed but it would not open for anyone but him. He had never tested this theory it was simply a notion in the back of his head that he entertained when he was bored.

Starting at the beginning, the handwriting was a careless child-like scrawl and through the many pages after it changed into the round smoothness of an adolescent. He had, had this book for ages it seemed; always it traveled with him and in it was him. The true him, the him that had been rejected from birth and left to die in the streets, alone and scorned by all around him. He had only been an infant! A newly born child and yet he had been condemned to death by the villagers.

The door slid open and three beings walked through it one happily reading, one irritated, the other icily glaring at the other two. The irritated one immediately became angry at the first glimpse of blond hair, "Naruto! You bastard where..." and suddenly she stopped the words falling dead and gray in her mouth. The normally warm wooden desks and walls were all covered in a thick dark glaze of crimson, the smell of sweet copper drifted up to her nose and made her cover her mouth and gasp in horror.

The entire room was covered in blood, from floor to ceiling, every desk, every chair, the only thing that had been spared was the windows and the brilliant light of sun came to rest on the body reclining backwards in one of the chairs. The only thing he wore was a pair of bright orange pants and the netting shirt that usually went underneath his black vest, his feet bare. His other clothing was nowhere to be seen; in his hand was a dark book and a silver pendant that had an orange gem imbedded within it.

But that was not were the real horror was, it came from each scar, old and new, that littered every inch of his porcelain skin. From face, even feet, not an inch had been spared from the kunai that lay on the desk in front of him. The silver-haired man had spared a glance up at her sudden gasp and his own eyes went wide with disbelief. His book slipped from numb fingers and landed with a dull thud, the backside instantly covered in a coat of blood. His mind refused to work at the sight of the boy with his endless sky eyes staring placidly out the window.

The third and final one, the stoic one of the group, the one who barely showed an emotion except for disgust and anger, was shaking. Uncontrollably, his body having gone into shock out of sheer unbelief at the impossible. Without his acknowledgement his hand stretched forth towards the blond-haired one. The only calm one in the room, the boy, turned his head toward the other three and something about his face made the girl scream falling to the ground, sobbing in agony.

The endless blue, the freedom, the want, the need, it was all dead, he was no longer...alive, even in the barest sense of the word. The young life had been taken by his own choosing, by his own will he had destroyed the sacred temple in which he had lived and now he no longer existed in this world. The eldest one kneeled almost incomprehensively and placed a hand on the sobbing girl's back not feeling the tears that splashed onto his toes. But the dark-haired one almost fell backwards, the wall behind catching him as his legs seemed to fail.

The boy in the chair slowly let a smile spread on his face and softly held out his hand's one to the boy, the other to the girl. The boy slowly came forward, the girl more slowly having to be supported by the tall man. The smile never wavered as they made their way slowly up the few stairs and stopped right next to him. To the girl his smile softened and he indicated that she should hold her hand out. Waveringly she did and in it he dropped the pendant then slowly curled her fingers around it. The moment her fingers touched the stone she lost all composure and collapsed once again.

The tall man was stopped from helping her by a slender hand on his forearm, looking up he locked eyes with the boy who squeezed it tightly then let go. All thought's of helping the girl flew from him mind and the only thing he could do was stumble back onto the desk across the aisle and let regrets assault his mind. A lone tear sliding down his cheek to land on the blood soaked wood.

Finally the dead one's gaze rested on the dark-haired boy there was an instant, that was almost lost to the feverishly frightened mind of the dark one, that his eyes suddenly seemed to show something, something that he would never be able to describe to the day that he himself died. But it was over before he was even sure it had happened and he found a book being held out to him. Cautiously he took it and before anything could be said before the others could look. The gold haired one leaned up and laid claim to the ebony one's soft lips. It was the softest thing the he had ever received and it left him reeling with god knows what emotions.

The boy fell back into the chair and looked back out through the window, suddenly the most beautiful thing arose from his lips. It wasn't his normal hyperactive voice it was the voice of pain and loneliness as it fell around the room soaking into every corner and haunting their minds everlasting.

"And as you walk through death's dark veil,

The cannon's thunder can't prevail,

And those who hunt thee down will fail,

And you will be my ain true love,

And you will be my ain true love."

As the last word fell and rippled across the room, a strange thing happened. His hand lifted into the air and each finger began to wriggle, then on the end of each one a tiny burst of flame appeared. Quickly it worked up his arm and took over his body, until it he was completely covered in flames. The heat was so suffocating the dark one was forced to grab the girl and pull her back much to her dismay. She screeched as she was pulled back and tried to claw her way back to the flames.


The agony of the scream was the thing that poured into every inch of the school and spilt out into the playground outside. Pounding feet were heard as teachers and students alike rushed almost excitedly to see what the boy had concocted this time. His pranks being a favorite of the students, ever since he had started work as a student teacher, to get their lessons hopefully postponed for the day. The first two to arrive were Konohamaru and Iruka. One blissfully happy, the other with a heavy sigh and a screaming tone at the ready.

Konohamaru didn't notice the blood coated room or the sickeningly sweet smell, all he saw was the burning corpse lying on the desk and he knew, in an instant he knew. His scream was perhaps louder than the girl's had been, nobody could quite say for sure. Iruka on the other hand had stopped a scant footstep behind Konohamaru noticing the room before the burnt mass. But at the boy's scream his attention had turned to it, just in time to see the last flame die from it's quick but greedy burst. Iruka didn't know what to do so he simply fell to the ground, Konohamaru soon falling into him. Together they sat there in the doorway, the boy sobbing into the man's jacket and the man never feeling it.


The day was gruesomely sunny and brilliant, as the freshly dug grave was mourned over by a scant few. The two boys, the girl, the two men and the Hokage, his hat pulled low over his head, his ever-present pipe strangely missing. Each held a flower, Konohamaru a Hibiscus, Sasuke a white Orchid, Sakura an Orange blossom, Kakashi a crimson Rose, Iruka a Morning Lily, and the Hokage a stem of Bluebells. One at a time they were laid on the mound of tightly packed dirt avoiding the areas were the two ninja had spit in contempt.

Sakura stood almost voidly, her normal red and pink outfit changed to a deep black mourning kimono* much to her parents disgust and rage, but one look into her unseeing eyes the argument had died on their lips. She refused to let anyone touch her for three days, ever since their light had left. "We shouldn't be here" she whispered almost silently, "We should be celebrating our graduation with the rest of the teams far away from this place." Her whisper became more ragged "We...shouldn't...be...here" the statement was practically ground out as a drift of the raunchiest laughter drifted from the nearby party. Hastily assembled by the adults the day of his funeral happy to finally be rid of the bane on their existence. The children had refused to attend most having been at school that day, the one's who hadn't had been informed by their friends.

She shook with a sudden fury and spun around much to the men's surprise, with a force the like's of which had never been seen coming from her, she screamed at the adults who were a scant hundred feet away. "SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" The various ninja and other's turned their head towards the voice that demanded their attention with sheer anger and force.

"You bastards! You..." she ground her teeth in search of a word that would suit her needs but failed to turn one up, "You dare to laugh and celebrate that the one thing you hated, you feared the most, the one thing that only wanted your fucking attention has finally been killed? You killed him! You with your words and your arrogance. How dare you even show your face within five miles of here? And to celebrate? One day you will have to face what you did to this boy, for nineteen years! For nineteen years you slowly killed an innocent little boy who was entrusted to you with the secure knowledge that you would love him. Well you did a great job of that didn't you? DIDN'T YOU? He's dead and you all killed him! And... And I killed him" she sunk to her knee's tears once again forming in her eyes. "I killed him"

The entire place had gone silent, from the small group, to the adults, to the children who had been drawn out by her screaming. A burst of thunder cracked overhead and the sky began to gray quickly but not a soul dare move. The rain was hard as it fell assaulting all skin it could attack but nobody moved, say for a dark-haired boy who quietly moved closer to the grave. Sitting down next to it, he leaned into it the rain mixing with the tears that fell onto the blue marble and loose clumps of dirt.


*Do they even have such things as mourning kimonos? I have no idea but it fits for the story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, The prayer, or the song "You Will Be My Ain True Love" by Sting and off of the 'Cold Mountain' soundtrack.

Notes: I have no idea what this is...truly I really don't, the time I spent writing it is now simply a blur...much like my vision is right now. I think I've spent about 3 and a half hours straight just writing this. And my shoulder hurts...really bad.

I apologize for the choppiness and skippy aroundness of the story, I know it doesn't follow a cohesive facts and story I.E.: The diary and the pendant... I know I know really don't ask It might be a set up for a sequel...we'll see

Oh and by the way the age's were Naruto: 19, Sasuke: 20, Sakura: 19, everyone else aged accordingly... I know I made a huge mess of their ages... Also I call Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura, boys&girls because I still consider them children until at least twenty-one.

Okay for the first part of the story the one in '' is a diary entry obviously... I know, I know it really has nothing to do with the story but this is my first draft... yup I'm posting it on my first draft... scary neh? It is recommended you listen to the song "You Will Be My Ain True Love" while reading this... kind late to say this huh? Well toufferious I've been listening to a 30 second clip of it on repeat even... I AM DEDICATED! and a tiny bit cuckoo... anyhow I hope you enjoy my very first attempt at a Naruto Fanfic...


Serious Notes: Depression and suicide are very serious issues that should be dealt with accordingly. I am not condoning suicide in any way. If you suffer from Depression please, please, please tell someone and get help. You are a precious and beautiful person and there is always going to be someone who loves you. No matter how hard it is to see. I know this because I've been suffering from a mild form of depression for the past three years and the only thing that keeps me from killing myself is the love I get from my parents and friends. If you want to talk or anything at all please contact me at the e-mail address in my profile.

~Thank you~