This fanfic is based off of JakeNova's drawing When No One Was Watching, on DA. This is also posted on my DA account found at silentmagi (dot) deviantart (dot) com.


Dawn found Naruto fiercely attacking a training dummy with a savage intensity that any who would have possibly seen him, might have thought that Kyuubi was going to come out at any moment. But the demon didn't show, even he knew that Naruto needed this time to work out what's on his mind, and he was finally able to sleep without being bugged by his host.

The reason Naruto wasn't being bothered by the tenant, was that the blonde ninja's thoughts were currently even hidden from the fox. This was Naruto's time to be alone, his time to lower the mask of smiles and being tough he throws up around the others. Even now tears were rolling down his cheeks as his thoughts took a trip down a dark path.

It had been a few weeks since Pein's attack on Konoha, and they had been very busy rebuilding again. So busy in fact that the funeral held for all the fallen was only a blur in their memories. But Naruto... Naruto had done something that no one knew about, he had carved the names out of the entire list of dead on the inside of his forehead protector, one more person he would only mourn for in private.

The first had been Haku, a young man that had been a mirror into Naruto's own life, showing him a path he could have taken. As an enemy he knew that he shouldn't feel sad, but he couldn't help it, it was the way his heart worked. Next was when Sasuke had left, he mourned the loss of a friend and a brother, and then the later betrayal. Slamming his fist into the dummy he wiped away the tears that were falling as he thought about what he'd lost before his trip with... him.

The toad sage, Icha-Icha writer, super pervert, Ero-sennin... Jiraiya. Naruto owed so much to that man, but he could never pay it back to him. Never show him how much that man meant to him. He'd been killed, and there was nothing he could do, but move on and become the next toad sage. He didn't feel like he could be nearly as good as the man he was replacing, but he'd damn well try. He'd show everyone that he was just as good as his sensei had been. Both of them.

Stiffening Naruto bit his lip as more tears fell out of his eyes as he thought about the newest name on the inside of his protector. The man who had taught him so much about being a ninja, helped him through his first mission, and taught him how to mourn silently those who had passed that had touched his heart. Jiraiya's number one fan, and public pervert, Hatake Kakashi, one that Naruto would almost consider a father.

Ever since the funeral, he had been on the go, hadn't stopped to think about the fallen, but now... now he couldn't stop. Tears continued to stream down from his eyes as he cried silently so as to not draw attention to himself. This was his time to mourn, his time to lower his mask and show his true heart before it tore himself up inside. Barely anyone else was awake in the village this early, and they were all far away.

Or at least he thought they were, for just beyond the trees, a lavender eyed woman in a outfit composed of soft purples and grays was watching him, and tears were rolling down her cheeks. She longed to talk to him, tell him all her feelings, even just to be there to support him, but she knew. She knew that Naruto wouldn't cry like this in front of anyone, and so she let him cry, silently wishing she could hold him instead. Turning away as her heart bled, she paused for a moment before looking back again. There with Naruto, for just a moment she swore she saw someone.

However, no matter how much she looked, she couldn't find the flame licked white robed man with spiked blonde hair, nor the woman with long red hair that had stood beside Naruto and hugged him close. However, she felt an almost invisible tug to go towards Naruto.

Biting her lip nervously she looked around again for the man and woman she'd seen, before finally taking a step forward silently. Never once did she see a pale-eyed woman with a care worn face that was so very similar to her own, nor the man who was identical to her father, before they too faded from view, their smiles the last thing visible.