Sing for What You Feel Inside.
By Tripptych / a m b a, y e a h ?
Disclaimer: I don't own shit.
Title Credit: Ritual – Black Veil Brides.
The sky was still without an ounce of blowing wind, serene in nature and a deep royal navy unequivocal flat, cloudless and free of impending weather; the kind you found only occurred a few short times a year. The kind that was filled with thousands of flickering and sparkling stars that Naruto believed with his entire being were a bit more than just burning exhausts of gas or simply fireflies that flew that bit too high; no, he believed they were angels smiling down at him. At least that are what his father had told him when his mother had passed away.
And he was right, his mother was an angel.
Seated precariously atop the cushioned seat of the sill of his living room window, little Naruto stared out at them with a small smile; not one of his reserved for the playground smiles but a tiny one of equanimity. The soft notes of his father's beaten and tattered acoustic guitar that was years older than Naruto played a soft tune of beauty in its own rusted way behind him.
Naruto never understood his father's love for the instrument; it was falling to pieces and licked beyond repair, held together by nothing more than a simple piece of duct tape that was lifting at the edges.
In fact as far as Naruto could see it was broken, not beyond repair but close to.
Easily replaceable by one of those fancy looking one's in the music store in town, the shiny polished wood kind with an actual brand name lacquered to the side. Naruto had seen his father eyeing them forlornly with longing and slight trepidation only to walk away and not look back. Naruto had seen it happen to many times to count.
Turning to look at his father, Naruto frowned a little with a small pout on his peach lips.
It wasn't entirely awful the way his father played, on the contrary actually it was astounding and beautiful but having experienced his father's music first hand at its peak, little Naruto couldn't help but feel cheated in his listening pleasure.
His father hadn't played a proper song in months.
Gone were the days were his father would play bright cheerful songs that made you want to dance and smile as big as your cheeks would allow, though they weren't the tunes Naruto missed the most. Those slow and memorizing songs that his father would only ever play for his beloved wife's ears that were soft and captivating, filled with devoted love and overall happiness, those were Naruto's favourite.
They were his favourite because they would never fail to make his mother smile sing.
Oh gosh, when his mum sung…it really was like angels had descended or at least their vocal chords. Soft yet pleasant filled with sultry depths and sweet notes, coupled with extraordinary guitar strums; these were Naruto's most treasured of memories.
Sadly though his mother had passed away a few short months earlier, taken by the illness of cancer; Naruto had watched his mother deteriorate rapidly in that hospital bed, though her voice never faltered and neither had his father music.
Unbeknownst to little Naruto, Minato had made a promise to his wife to play for as long as she sung and he kept that promise, playing those songs right up until she had died. Devastated with his mother's death, Naruto had barely noticed the lack of music playing; the funeral consumed the weeks following and by then Naruto had acknowledged the fact that things would never be the same.
His father wallowing in his own grief and comforting his son with his hardly touched the guitar at all.
As if the pain from his mother's death hadn't consumed Naruto as it was, the lack of guitar and gloominess that had over taken and consumed the Uzumaki – Namikaze household was terrifying and sombre.
Naruto frowned deeper as he recalled those horrid days, still watching his father frustrate in concentration and overall annoyance as he continuously plucked at random sad notes occasionally string a few pieces together only to slam his hand down on the metal frets in anger.
Naruto smiled at his dad.
Minato's frustration and anguish grew as he tweaked the frets, strumming them and plucking silly little notes that had once belonged to a song. Memories bombarded his frazzled mind, pictures and images of happier times and the almost ghostly voice of his wife echoing around like a symphony.
Tears burned his eyes as he claimed those vibrating strings to bring them to a stop. Pain held his chest as he blinked back the burning in his eyes, too many fond memories of better times had collected and inevitably brought him to an emotional point.
"Hey dad" Naruto's small voice spoke from beside him, his still clinging baby fat hand gripping his father's pant leg.
Jumping a little in shock and foolishness from not sensing his son moving, Minato smiled at his boy sadly.
"Yes Naruto?" His father's voice was sturdy and forgiving, holding no indication to the internal battle he held. Though his eyes betrayed him, wide, open, blue and a clear view to one's soul; Naruto could see everything because he shared the same eyes.
"Teach me how to play? Please, mum would have loved that." Was the simple words yet conveying so much meaning and coupled with that honest reaching the soul smile, Minato had never felt luckier.
Moving the beaten guitar to rest at his side, the older man picked up the child who happily obliged at settled in his Dad's lap. Bringing the old guitar back into his and Naruto's shared lap, Minato kissed his son's head with a smile; genuine and thankful, he gripped Naruto's little fingers and positioned them on the fret an above the hollow.
"Your right, Mother would love it."
Smiling up at his dad, Naruto saw the echo of his own true smile on his father's face as the older man directed the tiny fingers to the correct places, strumming with his own fingers poised above, a song well known to them both. Looking down at his fingers, Naruto felt a tug at his chest when his father's chest vibrated while the man hummed the words.
Taking one last glance out at that equal flat sky, Naruto watched the stars once more; glinting brightly and shining in approval.
His mother would be proud indeed.
Something fluffy and heartfelt, reviews and criticism are encouraged.