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Summary: Naruto was never like anyone else. He wore black, he was registered under the factor of 'goth' or 'punk' all because he didn't want to be like anyone else. He stood out. He felt like he was never wanted.

Warnings: Kinda dark...

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the lyrics ^^

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One-Shot

I tried to kill my pain
But only brought more
So much moral lay dying
And I'm pouring crimson regret and betrayal
I'm dying, praying, bleeding and screaming
Am I too lost to be saved?
Am I too lost?

Naruto tried to distance himself from others - he wore black clothes, he wore chains, skulls, and leather. He made tried to vanish into the background - right into the shadows. On a regular day, he would wear black leather pants that were torn in certain places with chains hanging off them, a black shirt (long-sleeved or short-sleeved) that had a skull pin on his chest, with chains wrapped around his neck and wrists, spiked bracelets on his wrists as well with a snake choke necklace tied around his throat - somehow seem through the chains that hung low and high. Was that enough to hide?

No. It only showed him out even more - but he never changed it. He didn't want to change for anyone else.

At least once a week he would send someone else to the nurse - up to the point that people stopped trying to fight him, unless they got cocky and believed they could handle him. People would still taunt him, and everyone would never become his friend. No one wanted to be friends the demon that would kill them - the demon with claw-like nails and red eyes.

Naruto lay there, running a razor blade down his ankle - the blood seeping into the clear bath water.

My God my tourniquet
Return to me salvation
My God my tourniquet
Return to me salvation

Naruto had cut himself too much - and he nearly bled to death. Iruka had barely found him and brought him to the hospital. He was there for three days before he left, his adoptive father watching him closely - trying to get him to talk. He never bothered too, and Naruto continued to wear the dark clothes. Even though he would love to wear bright orange, he knew that would only make him stand out even more. Only an idiot would wear orange, after all.

He tried it again, a month after leaving the hospital - he had pushed a knife through his stomach. He had screamed just slightly in pain, and Iruka had banged down the door before rushing him to the hospital once again. This time around he stayed there for two weeks, and was ordered to go to a therapist. Naruto had no choice in it, though he didn't fight it - he knew Iruka wanted him too, and he didn't want to upset him anymore. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday he would go into that room. He would barely ever respond to the woman who tried to reach him.

Why would he?

Do you remember me?
Lost for so long
Will you be on the other side
Or will you forget me?
I'm dying, praying, bleeding and screaming
Am I too lost to be saved?
Am I too lost?

Naruto continued school, not really wanting too. People called him a 'wuss' for attempting to kill himself, and it got around that he went to a therapist. They started to call him crazy. He started to believe it.

He would use his blood to draw on a white canvas inside of his room, drawing a red-tainted river. He would only use black and red. The black ink with his red blood - it was beautiful, to him at least. He would paint - draw? - pools of black, empty spaces. Red eyes staring out from the dark. The more and more he started to see that therapist, the more he used actual paint.

Eventually he was coloring green fields, the sun high in the pure blood sky - with a dead body laying in the middle. Eventually he had enough paintings that they covered his room. All of them would be put up on his wall or his ceiling. As time continued - they all got brighter and brighter.

My God my tourniquet
Return to me salvation
My God my tourniquet
Return to me salvation

"Naruto, why do you wear black?", his therapist asked - a blonde haired woman, with a giant chest and a blue diamond on her forehead.

"I don't know.", he had shrugged.

"Here.", she handed him a wad of bills, "Buy yourself some bright clothes, okay? You so sad in those black clothes.", she smiled.

Naruto paused before he took them, "Why do you care?", he asked.

"No one deserves to be in pain.", was all she said.

Naruto believed her.

My God my tourniquet
Return to me salvation
My God my tourniquet
Return to me salvation

Naruto bought himself a whole new wardrobe - much brighter. He choice a lot of orange and blue, and he liked it all. When he went to school in those clothes, everyone looked at him shocked. Some taunted and screamed at him - he ignored them all. One guy tried to punch him, Naruto simply dodged and went on with a big smile. For some reason - they didn't bother him. Why should they?

They were all flies in this world - pathetic, weak, and dumb. Able to get in, but never able to escape from their own will.

Why should he care?

My wounds cry for the grave
My soul cries for deliverance
Will I be denied Christ
Tourniquet
My suicide

At the age of thirty - Naruto was happy with his life. He was a painter and an architect. He would design buildings for the city and major corporations. He wrote off on the side - and he ended up staying in contact his with therapist - Tsunade her name was - even though he didn't need it anymore. He ended up meeting Jiraiya, his godfather. Apparently they tried to find and adopt him, but he vanished off the charts.

He learned of his parents, and got a giant fortune and company off them - though he let Jiraiya and other manage it. He had no real wish to get into it. He was happy, happier than anything.

"I committed suicide long ago, but of a personality and of a pain that haunted me for years.", Naruto would say.

Everyone can get better and they will - you just have to stand by, and let yourself grow.

Authors Note:

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