Author's Note: Um...The reason why I wrote this is...I was high on coffe and reading a very angsty book. Naruto is definitely one of my favourite characters of this series. I thought that since I had written a little piece for Sasuke a while back, I'm in the mood of doing in Naruto centric one-shot. Bah...Just read please. And review...
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Never had, never will. Unless Kishimoto is some uncle I never knew I had, and then he dies and leaves me the rights to the series. Bwuahahaha! ::recieves glares from lawyers::
Warning: The following fic deals with a sensitive subject. Reader's discretion is advised.
Dedication: This is dedicated to Miya-chan, my wonderful beta and muse.
By Jia Zhang
I love the mornings. They are my favourite time of day. Sure, it's always a bit of an annoyance to wake up, feeling kinda groggy, and well, a little dead, if you know what I mean. But I love the mornings anyways. They always make me feel refreshed. They make me feel like a nightingale who's woken up to the sound of the harem of Angels, walking along side of the morning sun. I love the mornings.
I love it when the sun is up. I love the day, with white clouds dancing against the blue sky. When the day is like that, you can't help but feel all happy. Add in a nice warm bowl of ramen (or two), and it really is a perfect day. I guess you could say that I'm a person who is easily please. I guess that's true. But any time is better than the night.
I hate to go to bed. It is the...worst thing to do. In the day, and in the morning, when I have just woken up, I have a whole day of events and activities to keep my mind off of...that darker part, my nightmares. Whenever I'm training, or having missions, they keep my conscience off of my nightmares. But at night, they arrive and won't go away till I drift off to sleep, and even then, I wake up cold in sweat.
I never grew up with parents, so I don't know what it feels like to have that kind of unconditional love. I guess I could count Iruka-sensei...He's like the family I never had. But...there is always a hole inside, a pain even I can't ignore at times.
They look at me, hate in their eyes, and it drives me crazy. All I want to do is to yell, and scream...It isn't my fault! Any of what happened isn't my fault! I...I'm not the monster they think I am...I'm not...am I?
I don't know what to think anymore.
I hate the darkness. That abyss seems to be oddly gravitational, pulling me into something I can't begin to comprehend. And I hate it so much. It's pain, it's anger, it's all the years of hurt I had to bare, and sometimes I can't keep from falling into it. I was a child! I was supposed to be playing around, having fun! But...all these years I had to keep myself from going insane, from drowning into that darkness... Because...if I really did fall into that void, I would really have proved them right...I would have fallen captive to a monster. I couldn't let that happen.
So, I sacrificed what sanity I had, and held out onto a dream. It kept me safe, and was a shield against all the hardships I was forced to face. But dreams and hope can hold you out for only so long...
I hate the night. Against the darkness, I feel myself drowning in my nightmares. I have a desperation, a pain that I find myself lost within. I need release...I need a way for this to end...It hurts so much. And I can't understand why this is the way it is... I am traveling at an impossible speed through my insanity, and I need a way to escape velocity.
Sasuke lifted his fist against the apartment door. He paused. What was he doing? No, he should just go now. It wasn't his affair to meddle in. He turned to go, but stopped in his tracks. He shook his head. Naruto was friend. He couldn't sit by and say nothing.
Stubbornly, Sasuke turned around and went back to the blonde's apartment. It was morning, the best time to confront Naruto. It was now or never. He lifted his hand and knocked on the door.
"Just a second!" Shuffling inside the room.
Naruto opened the door, his eyes widening a little when he saw the ebony eyed youth before him.
"Sasuke...What are you doing here? It's really early...Ah! We didn't have training practice this morning, did we?"
The dark haired boy stayed quiet for a moment. "No...we don't..." He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but closed it again. Naruto blinked at him, a little annoyed.
"Well, then what is it? Spit it out already."
Sasuke took a deep breath, and sighed. "We need to talk." He slid past Naruto and into his apartment.
The blonde closed the door, a little curious at the normally passive shinobi's behavior. "Sasuke...are you alright?"
The other boy had his hands stuffed into his pockets, his back turned to Naruto. After a rather long moment of silence, he finally spoke. "I saw the scars..." Naruto blinked, but didn't say anything, as if he didn't understand. "...I saw the scars...on your arm."
Blue eyes widened in surprise. "What...what do you mean? I don't understand—"
"Dammit, Naruto! Stop avoiding this!" Sasuke suddenly spun around, grabbing the blonde by his left arm, and lifting up the sleeve of the orange jumpsuit. "Stop lying about this!"
Red scars, cuts, bandages...they riddled his arm like fireflies that danced in the summer night sky. Naruto cringed slightly, and tried to wiggle his arm out of Sasuke's grasp.
"They're nothing!" he shouted angrily. "Just stuff I got from training!"
"No they're not!" the dark haired boy shouted back. "You have to tell somebody about this...You..."
Naruto snapped back his arm from Sasuke's grasp. "It's nothing, Sasuke! I got these from training; it's nothing. You're not light on your punches, you know." He pulled down his sleeve. "C'mon...Let's go. Sakura-chan is waiting for us." The blonde turned, and left, leaving the door open for Sasuke to close.
Sasuke cursed, his eyes shut tightly, gritting his teeth, his hands making fists. Once he opened his eyes again, he noticed a white piece of rather crinkled paper that lay on Naruto's table. It was lay so the back of the paper was up. He moved his hand and lifted it, turning it and seeing the words that confirmed everything he thought.
Papers sprawled everywhere
Words written on them
Poetry of a language even he did not understand
Pictures drawn on them
Images of things from the depth of his nightmares
He sat, arms hugged around his knees
On his bed
No smiles graced his lips
No tears from his eyes
He was a mannequin
A puppet whose strings were cut
His hand moved to pick it up
A small metallic scissor
No bigger than his palm
But sharp nonetheless
He dragged the edge along his arm
A beautiful ribbon of crimson danced
Along the white of his arm
Against the pale skin
And he felt delirious
Lost in an unknown insanity
He was the boy
Son of an unknown mother
Son of a forgotten father
Who lived in the broken house
With a weeping heart
And scars that told his story
I, My, Me
I cry for that child of a lost tomorrow
Forever trapped in drowning
Of a nightmare he will never wake from
He touches his scar drawn arms
The skin tainted red
He had a pair of scissor hands
"Oi! Sasuke! Let's go!"
His face contorting in an emotion he was not accustomed to, Sasuke placed the paper back down, back side up, and followed after the blonde.
End Note: I don't think that Naruto is the happy, happy guy he always seems to be. There's more, I'm sure. I hope I was able to keep in essence of his character. I know having Sasuke worry about him is a little...OOC, but I think Sasuke would understand Naruto in a much different way than others. They are a lot closer than it seems. Bwuahahaha! I'm so bloody morbid.
This fic does deal with the issue of "cutting". This is a serious problem many youth face today. Inner turmoil is not able to be expressed properly, and they find a need to express that pain through "cutting". If you, or someone you know, is "cutting", please consult someone. There are people who can help you. Or, if you want to deal with this in secret, than you can call Kids Help Phone at 1-800-668-6868.
::smirk:: I sound like I am doing a commercial for KHP. Hn. The poem, Scissor Hands is written by me, and can be found through Aku Tsubasa's, my senpai,ID at This is the modified version of the poem, to fit the story.
© August, 2004 by Jia Zhang. All rights reserved.