A word from the author...
This is only a Fan fiction written by a hapless fan and is therefore non-canon to the actual anime.
Obviously, I do not own Naruto and I do not claim to own it. It is owned by some company in Japan that, by now, must be incredibly rich and instilling jealousy into the hearts of pathetic commoners such as us. (Also, if you notice, I am writing the headers in the “The Last Font I’m Wasting On You” typeface by Evanescence. I don’t own it either; I only have it because I am helplessly devoted to them).
This Fan fiction contains some events that have not yet happened in the Naruto anime, and [hopefully] never will. If you can hope that they don’t happen, then goddamn it, they will not happen—and I’ll be damned if they do happen. It contains characters not in the anime (i.e. “Sakura Satochiba”, “Tuyet Lien Nguyet”). Namely, this Fan fiction highlights a fictional love triangle between Naruto, Sasuke and Sakura.
So you can stop reading this stupid introduction and start reading the Fan fiction. It’ll be awesome if you bring yourself to like it.
Mist clung to Konoha like the black haze of a death requiem, shutting out the breathable air. Rain fell forth from the sky and flooded the roads; had it not once considered the volume of what has already fallen? Dark, cold and plaguing, the rainwater rushed down into the roads and made them mercilessly saturated. Greyness hung above the sky like an ever-patiently waiting wasp, waiting to throw forth another deluge at Konohagakure.
Naruto Uzumaki wanted ever so badly for it to stop.
From within the modest dwelling he was being forced to share with Sasuke Uchiha and Sakura Haruno, Naruto stared out a window into the bleak scene that was Konohagakure.
“Are you going to stare out that window all day, Naruto?”
Naruto whirled around to see Sakura staring at him, holding a paper fan.
“If I wanted to,” he replied dully.
Sakura sighed somewhat inwardly and fanned herself once with briskness. She set the fan down on the table beside her and went over to him. Noticing this, Naruto moved away from her. He scuttled like a crab toward a nearby chair. Sakura sighed again, and attempted approaching him once more.
“Stay still, would ya?” she griped stridently.
He would not obey. He stood up from his spot near the chair and walked away from her. He stood at the table where Sakura had left her fan and gripped the handle of it.
“Hey—don’t touch that!” Sakura demanded.
“What if I want to?” Naruto replied mockingly.
Sakura growled gutturally and rushed at him. This time, he did not object or move. He stood still, holding the fan in his hand. Sakura stood face-level to him; anger flashing across her eyes. Naruto yawned indolently.
“Your forehead’s acting up again.”
Sakura sputtered angrily, making a fist so tight it became as rose as her forehead.
“Can you not!” she spurted. Then she added, “…Make fun of my forehead.”
“Alright, I won’t,” Naruto replied.
The grin had already returned to his face and he flashed it at Sakura. The pink-haired girl sighed, seemingly relieved. Naruto picked up the fan and fanned the air between him and Sakura, the same way she had done so earlier.
“Well it’s nice to see you smiling again,” Sakura sighed.
Almost at once, the smile crumbled into a thousand pieces off his face. The sadness had returned, clouding his face and mind with depression. He turned away from Sakura. He could feel a tear slide down his face and hit the floor; a tear riddled with unfathomable misery. He tried wiping the trail it left behind with his sleeve; he did not bother not making it obvious. All at once, his disposition changed and the new anger that possessed him forced his hand to grip the handle of the fan harder than ever.
“Naruto…?” Sakura whispered.
She placed her hand on his shoulder, only to have it brushed away. The fan had fallen from Naruto’s weak hand and clattered to the floor.
“Don’t say anything, Sakura.”
Her mouth sealed by shock, Sakura said nothing and picked up the fan. She watched helplessly as Naruto disappeared behind a corner leading to the bathroom. Her weak arms let the fan drop to the side. Silence filled the air and made it almost too hard to breathe. Sakura could feel herself breathing in the silence—it was forbidding and remonstrative when she tried to swallow it.
A shuffling noise came from the door and made Sakura jump. Holding the fan like a kunai, she flicked into a ready stance.
“Sakura, Naruto, open up!”
Sakura knew that voice—it was the forcefully dark voice she had been lusting for all of these years. She imagined him now—tall, dark and not so muscular that he would destroy her in an embrace. His soft blue hair—
—his spiky yellow coif—
—his solemn, serious face—
—that perpetual grin—
Sakura stood at that spot in confusion, barely moving. The paper fan in her hand stood just is still and silent as it ever was.
“Sakura, Naruto, open the door!!”
Sakura broke from her trance, and nearly dropped the fan as Naruto did. However, she soon found herself at the door, and her hand was on it; ready to twist it open and let him inside.
“Oh, Sasuke, there you are!” Sakura gushed almost brainlessly.
Sasuke stood at the door, half drenched and shivering violently. He had nothing to cover him from the deluge. He carried in his hand a brown paper shopping bag, half drenched and dripping with frigid rainwater. Drops of water were also sliding off his navy hair and off his forehead. Sakura smiled almost lasciviously at the sight of him.
“Take this,” he commanded bluntly, holding out the bag to her.
She took the sodden bag from him and set it down on the table beside the fan. She half-turned away and began unpacking the contents of the dripping-wet sack. She found a limp, soggy loaf of bread and a weak, squishy and ugly fruit. From the corner of her eye, she could see Sasuke stirring.
“Hate the weather…” he was saying, “…can’t believe it.”
Upon saying that final line, Sakura could see the sight of all sights; the source of her very dreams. Sasuke had his drenched shirt in his hands, and there was nothing between his pale skin and where his shirt was. His torso was exposed from the waist up, and he did not look like he would find a new shirt in due time. It was the divinity of the Gods sent down to her in tangible form, and she loved every precious second.
“What are you staring at?” he snapped angrily.
Sakura turned back to the bag she was unpacking. It was soaked and there was no more use she could find of it, so she decided to throw it away.
The closest garbage can was near Sasuke, just behind him and close to the door.
Trying to look inconspicuous, Sakura whirled round somewhat playfully and held the paper bag behind her with both hands. She started to tiptoe toward the garbage can—and Sasuke. Soon, she found herself behind him. She could smell his scent—so full of dirt and water and pain. It made her mind go absolutely wild. Fantasies began rushing and flitting through her head, but she couldn’t help but notice…
His very name interrupted her fantasy. For a split second, she could have sworn she saw Naruto in place of Sasuke. And for a split second, just maybe—she could have sworn she enjoyed it.
Sasuke looked at her as she bent down behind him.
“What about Naruto? And by the way, where is that moron?”
Cold air seeped in from the barely open door leading to the washroom. It came in as a lightly unpleasant draft but when it hit Naruto’s face, he could feel himself driving ever closer to the deep, sparkling crimson.
“Damn it, Sasuke,” he whispered tetchily to himself.
Occasionally, beneath all of the pained grunts and groans, he would find himself uttering Sasuke’s name. Somehow, he just found sheer beauty in it. He would picture his face and he would reconsider—but he could not turn back.
He held the cold razor in his hand, playing with it; slowly, tantalizingly playing with it as if it were a harmless toy. But no, it was not a mere child’s plaything—it was an instrument of beautiful suicide. Its cold steely surface shone and glimmered brightly in the light coming in through the window. Little by little, he lifted the razor to his wrist, ready to slice down. He could feel its icy touch on his skin, and he readied it at the place he would cut.
“All for you,” he whispered to himself.
That last whisper was inward and made him think of all the personal things he kept inside of him. All that went through his mind recently, night and day, was the face and voice of Sasuke. He could not admit it to him; he would know that he was gay.
“I’m not gay,” Naruto said to himself. “I. Am. Not. Gay.”
Naruto could feel the cold sting of the razor against his wrist. Was he gay? Really, all he ever thought about now was Sasuke Uchiha. When he thought of him, he did not feel the burning rage and fury he had felt before—instead he felt something that sent him to cloud nine; yet it made him feel so sick.
Could it have been love?
“I am not gay,” Naruto repeated.
When he said it that second time, he found himself less adamant. He had no conviction anymore. He could not hold true to his claims. It was the part of him wanting to be open versus the part of him that held secrets. He was alone, however and had nobody to hide anything from. Naruto did not think he needed to hide from himself—and certainly, Naruto would not betray himself. He really was gay, and he could not bear to deny it. That would only give him more pain to burden; more pain to suffer under.
He did not dare hurt himself even more.
He let the razor blade on the box closest to him, not wanting to proceed. But he missed the box and the razor blade clattered to the floor with a reverberating clack. Its soft echo reached his ears but it came differently—fag, fag, fag…fag, fag, fag…
‘Shut up!’ his mind screamed.
In a dizzy languor, he made his way to the open door. Upon entering the hallway, he closed the door behind him. He could hear voices from the makeshift living room they had, and he could tell it was Sakura and Sasuke.
‘Sasuke’s back?’ he thought.
He peered into the living room and there he was—Sasuke inside from the frigid, blighting rain falling from the heavens. He had shirt off and was holding the soaked black thing in his hands. Naruto could see every smooth, pale line on him, but he turned away. Had he stayed longer, he would have found himself staring for longer than he should have been. His decision pained him so much and he knew he was being deprived of what he wanted most. But he needed to keep his mind.
Naruto spun on his heel and started to walk further down the hall to the bedroom on the right—the one he shared with Sasuke. He decided that no sooner than he’d lose control, he would have killed himself first.
Resolutely, he entered the bedroom looking for sleep and closed the door behind him.
Sasuke looked down at the broad-mouthed girl squatting at the garbage can beneath him. What in the hell could she have been doing standing there, and for so long, too?
“What the hell are you doing?” he asked her with an edge of venom in his voice.
Sakura looked up at him; her intelligent eyes flickering with bemusement.
“Nothing at all,” she replied with a self-indulgent grin.
Sasuke half-smiled inside when he saw her that way. The smile creasing her passive face, the way her soft pink locks fell across her head; it made Sasuke acknowledge her real beauty.
‘What am I thinking?’ he thought inwardly.
Why was he finally seeing her inside? This was Sakura Haruno—the girl who’d always far surpass him in intelligence but would always stray far below him when it came to jutsu. They were worlds apart, and the reason they were separated was skill. So why did he see her strongly now? She always was just Simple Sakura and was never anything above.
“Where’s Naruto?” Sasuke asked next.
Sakura finally stood from her hunched position over the garbage can.
“Naruto went to washroom a while ago,” she replied in a down tone, remembering her exchange with him earlier on.
“Tell him to get out here,” Sasuke commanded her softly. “I want to tell him something.”
‘I want to be with you forever.’
Sasuke’s mind reeled painfully, madly. What? What was he thinking about? Who was he thinking about?
Sakura? Surely it could not have been Sakura Haruno—it must be another Sakura; maybe Sakura Satochiba.
But that was simply preposterous. Nobody in Konohagakure was named that.
“Okay, I’ll go get him,” Sakura said, and dashed toward the washroom.
Sasuke watched helplessly as she disappeared behind a corner; long pink hair bobbing behind her. He wondered what it would feel like just to let his hand go through it, just once. Soon, she was out of sight.
When she was gone, Sasuke let himself fall backward and slide into a sitting position. He was soon in a sitting position, holding his knees to his chest. All of the cold inside and around him was starting to sink in, becoming more vicious with every slowly passing second. Waves of cold began to feel like icy shards embedded into his bones. He hugged himself even tighter, forcing out the cold and forcing in the heat.
Strangely, he began to see a vivacious myriad of colors—orange, like fire; scarlet, like blood, and the black that is darkness. They melded together into one—and in the middle of it all was Sakura, and she was alight with fire.
‘Sakura!’ his mind’s voice called to her.
The image of her turned around; her face was brightly aflame, but she did not burn nor wince. Perhaps—she was the fire; the fire that kept anything alive in Sasuke’s heart. He admitted it—Sakura, for so long, was the fire that made passion burn. So poetic, so smart, so graceful, so…
“DAMN IT NARUTO, GET YOUR LAZY ASS UP!!”
Moments later, Sakura came sauntering back with an angry look on her face. Tetchiness creased her forehead, making it seem to swell pink with anger.
“He’s asleep,” she mumbled angrily. She picked up the paper fan she left on the table and fanned herself vigorously and angrily.
“Sleep,” Sasuke breathed slowly.
He decided that he needed sleep. He stood up from his spot beside the garbage can and, sodden shirt in hand, he walked past Sakura. He made sure his shoulder brushed briskly against hers.
“Sleep?” Sakura spluttered. “But what am I supposed to do if you and Naruto are sleeping?”
“I don’t know…sleep maybe?” Sasuke suggested.
He turned back around and started to head for the room again. He fantasized what it would be like if he had Sakura in his arms as they slept. Sasuke started again walking to the room at the end of the hall.
“Why should I sleep?” Sakura demanded almost angrily.
Sasuke turned around slowly—almost menacingly and faced Sakura. He began walking toward her and if he did not stop, Sakura may have assumed he was going to bulldoze her.
But he did not.
He did the exact opposite.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be there,” he whispered in her ear as he caught her in a warm embrace.
“Sa…Sasuke…” Sakura moaned in response.
Time stood still for Sakura when Sasuke finally hugged her. It was what she had been dreaming about since she met him, but why did it feel so odd?
Slowly, began to put her arms around him. He was cold, and his bare skin was smooth and cool, but the warmth in her arms slowly began to change that. Still, the longer she held on to him, the colder and farther away he felt.
“You are so much more to me,” Sasuke said to her.
Sakura started to speak, but Sasuke silenced her by planting his lips full on hers. In a wave of decadence, Sakura returned the kiss by almost forcing herself against him. Slowly, tantalizingly, they probed each others’ mouth, each one trying to elicit another movement from the other.
They were finally free.
They were finally together.
She was him, and he was her; they were one entangled in the other.
But Sasuke finally ended it all by pushing off the practically blindsided girl.
“Oh God, Naruto, I…”
‘Naruto?’ she thought, shocked.
How could she have possibly thought of Naruto when she and Sasuke had just shared a passionate, pivotal moment? Naruto was a footloose, easygoing idiot who would not know the first thing about love, yet Sakura was thinking about him. Naruto—the hot-headed fool who had a tendency to get caught in strange situations. This was Sasuke Uchiha, the strong, sexy young man she had fallen for years ago. He was definitely all business and no frills—the polar opposite of Naruto Uzumaki.
Sasuke did not seem to hear her utterance of the wrong name.
“Do you—do you seriously mean it?” she gasped.
“Of course I mean it,” Sasuke replied. “I am no liar.”
Without so much as another word, Sasuke turned on his heel and once again started to walk down the hall.
When he disappeared behind the corner once more, he left Sakura in dead silence.
“Why…why did I say Naruto?” Sakura asked herself.
Why did she say ‘Naruto’? Perhaps it was because she had been in the same house with him for too long; perhaps it was seeing him so depressed.
‘Naruto is just a childish little brat! There’s no way I’d ever fall for him!’
But why was she thinking about being in love with him anyway?
‘Stop it! Stop thinking about him!’ her inner mind scolded her.
In a mad, dullish haze of depression and bitter-sweetness, Sakura made her way down the hall, past the corner and in front of the door to her room. Upon passing the bathroom, she saw a sparkling little object on a crate. It glimmered in the dull sunlight filtering in through the window. She picked it up—and cried sharply in pain.
Blood leaked from her finger, and glimmered from the razor blade that had cut her.
Who could have been in there?
Who could have been just inches from death?
Sakura clutched her injured finger in her free hand, and pushed open the door to her room with her shoulder.
She was greeted with only dimness and silence. It was not like she expected anything to speak, but still. Everything was still, cold and lifeless.
And as she wandered into the middle of that lifelessness, she found her bed. Closing her eyes, she let herself fall into it. The bad caught her in a dull, cold embrace. Amidst all of the austerity, she did not find it hard to sleep.
The very next morning was just as bad as the previous day, and this was raining as much as its predecessor. It made the dirt very sodden and loose, like quicksand. All of the trees’ branches were downtrodden by the water weighing it down.
And to Tuyet Lien Nguyet, it made for a horrific tourist attraction, she realized; as she tried running around the town in only sandals and a heavy coat. Her feet slipped through the mud sloppily, making thick, ugly sucking noises. Mud squished between her toes, making her shudder with disgust.
From where Tuyet was coming from would be a mystery to the people of this unnaturally wet town.
To where Tuyet planned to go would also be a mystery, probably even to Tuyet herself. Well, maybe not to herself. She knew she needed to get out of the cold. She tried looking for any building, and the nearest one was at the end of the road.
Approaching it, she knocked on its door.
“Hello?” she called in.
“Hello! Is anyone there?” she called with more force.
Knock! Knock! Knock—creak…
Slowly, the rattan door opened into the house. Tuyet decided to look inside. She stuck her wet head in, and saw only a low table and a lone chair off in the corner. The air within was still and smothering, but it was some improvement from the cold and remonstrative air outside.
“Anyone in here?” she called out.
There was only silence. Tuyet let herself into the house, trying not to alarm any residents there. Looking left and right, she spotted a little corner that had a pillow and something that could have possibly passed off as a sheet.
Tuyet fluffed the miserable pillow and unfolded the sheet, which she found was tattered. It did not matter to her—Tuyet was not picky when it came to sleeping. Ducking beneath the cover, her heavy eyelids closed and she slipped inconspicuously into a world of slumber.
Naruto slowly fell away from slumber in the confining, angry silence of the room. He lay in his bed staring blankly up at the ceiling. Still, the frozen rain slammed down on Earth; not unlike the sound of a bucketful of pins being poured onto metal. The air in the room had since grown cold and stifling. It felt like a frozen otherworld; it felt like the aftermath of a war in the winter. More than anything, it felt terrible.
Naruto’s still eyes did not try scanning the ceiling overhead. He could only stare mindlessly at a single blank spot. He was bored, but he wasn’t going to wake Sasuke for any stupid reason. It was not like he’d shake him awake just to tell him he was bored, or to get him to do something remotely exciting, or kiss him or anything…
‘No!’ his mind raged angrily. ‘You’re not gonna kiss him! Ya hear me!’
“Hear ya, but I don’t wanna,” he replied blankly to nobody.
‘Oh, don’t be such a fag!’ his mind ranted.
He could almost feel red-hot smoke billowing from his ears. Without anything at all to do, he stood up from his bed and exited into the hallway. Naruto could see it had already been a whole night since he fell asleep, as the sky was once again light.
“Hey—who are you?!” he called out in surprise when he saw the dormant girl in the corner.
Blinking, she opened her eyes and looked around.
“Oh, are you the owner?” she asked in a foreign accent.
Naruto wondered where she was from. She did not bear any symbol showing whatever nation she was from. Her accent was not so obvious either.
“Yeah,” he replied, nodding slowly. “My name’s Naruto Uzumaki! Believe it!”
The girl looked at him with a flat, yet smiling expression.
“Um, yes I really do believe it,” she said plainly.
Put off by her upstart tone, Naruto’s face twisted into an irritable frown.
“Just what do ya think you’re doing here?” he asked tetchily.
“I needed someplace to go…” the girl replied.
“Well ya better find somewhere else to go,” he snapped.
The girl looked taken aback; as her eyes and mouth were both wide with shock. In a huff of wind, she practically tore the sheet off herself, and stood up angrily. Naruto gulped down a lump in his throat, but still had his arms crossed defiantly. The girl’s now-dark expression beneath her black river of hair was intimidating. Her face was cold and half-grimacing.
“All I ask is the afternoon,” she drawled darkly.
Naruto gulped again—this time the lump was harder and felt far spikier. But, as his thick skull would have it, he would not back down to a mere girl. Who did she think she was? What business did she have trying to encroach on his house?
“No way!” he replied.
Her face fell down into the collar of her coat. For an eternal moment, it stayed there, unmoving.
She whispered something.
“What was that?” Naruto said.
“With greed, there is a price,” she said again. “Death.”
That was all Naruto could say before she attacked.
She moved like the lightning, too fast to be seen clearly. Naruto felt something lash against him. His wrist began to bleed. Naruto snapped into focus. There was no time to spare now.
Sasuke abruptly woke. There was a loud crash coming from the living room, and at the sound of it, he stood up. He could easily guess who it was—it was most likely Naruto getting into another stupid fight.
“Naruto!!” he shouted gruffly into the hall as he opened the door.
He looked into the hallway—and saw a huge black burn mark on the wall.
“What the hell!” he shouted quizzically. There was an audible clash of metal-on-metal erupting from the living room, and a flash of black that soon followed. It looked like a black shadow only appearing for a split second. He saw Sakura beside him, also puzzled as to what was ensuing that moment. After momentarily glancing at one another, they dashed into the living room.
“Greed brings death,” an angry girl’s voice said.
There, Sasuke could see a slim girl wearing a violet corset and a miniskirt. A heavy brown fur coat lay on the ground. She had a strange weapon in her hand—it was sort of like a huge silver kunai made for long-time use. Her eyes flashed angrily and a black aura radiated from her.
“What are you?” Sasuke shouted at her.
She only glared at him in response and soon dashed at him; a black flame enveloping her arms and legs. Sasuke already had a kunai in his hand, poised to destroy her if necessary. She raised her leg and brought her heel down on him with tremendous force; it even knocked him backwards, shattering his kunai.
‘She’s that strong?!’ he thought, gasping.
Before he could hear himself think more, her other leg came around and slammed him directly in the face. He was knocked backward again, flying into the back wall of his bedroom. He slammed hard onto it. The girl advanced slowly toward him, black web-like strings appearing behind her. It sealed off Sakura and Naruto from him.
‘Is that what she wants?’ Sasuke thought ‘To fight alone?’
“It’s just what I want!” she called out to him.
“She can read my mind,” Sasuke whispered to himself.
Her silver sword seemed to sing a high, bright note as she aimed it at him. Eyeing the bright sword closely, he saw a number of engraved lotus petals around the blade, and they flashed between white and black. Without warning, a boisterous storm of white lotus petals erupted from the blade.
Sasuke was jettisoned upward, thrown upward against the ceiling. The lotus petals were just inches beneath him, and he could feel their collective heat intensifying. The rain falling from the sky could not bring down the heat. They inched ever so closer to him, threatening to lacerate him. Closer…closer…
Naruto and Sakura watched from the ground. What could be happening up there? They could only see bright white and a cloud of black beneath it.
“Where’s Sasuke…” Sakura drawled, straining to find him in the sky.
“Hey, I think that’s—”
There was only blood.
There was only fire—a black flame without heat.
There was only pain.
There was only death.
Death had come for Sasuke, and this time, he could not avoid it.
“Oh my…” Sakura gasped. “Sasuke…”
Sasuke was suspended about a foot in the air, limbs dangling uselessly. A white and crimson blade stuck out from his chest. It was the girl’s blade and she was holding it in place.
They were still.
They were immobile.
They were afraid.
The sky poured forth a blighting deluge of rain. It was cold and uninviting. A blue-white mist hung above the ground. And there was the stench of death present in the air. Through all the tears and rain pouring down their faces, Sakura and Naruto tried to see in front of them. There was no girl. There was no storm of white lotus petals. There was no blade that would bring death to anyone anytime soon.
There was only Sasuke, and he was dead.
For the first time that week, the rain had stopped. It was still dreary however: the clouds dominated the sky, a stoic mist clung to the lower tier of air, and the roads were soggier than ever.
A new emotion lingered in the air, however.
Its name was misery.
Misery crept into Sakura Haruno’s brain as she held the flowers tight against her chest. Misery crept into Naruto Uzumaki’s arms as he tried to dig in the damp earth. Misery moved like a viral disease; moving into the tree and over the houses and beneath the ground.
Would it still follow Sasuke six feet deep into the ground?
That was what the two wondered as they lowered his still, cold body into the hole there. Soon after, Naruto began replacing the dirt into the makeshift grave. Weeping beneath whispery mumbles, Sakura placed the flowers onto the grave. They were orchids—beautiful and holding a mysterious air. It seemed to die with the one it rested upon; uttering a final breath before the unfeeling whisper of death inevitably claimed it for its own.
“To each, his own,” Naruto mumbled almost inaudibly.
He took Sakura by the hand. He could feel her warmth flowing into and filling his own. Almost at the same time, they stared up at the sky.
There was no sun, although they had not expected one.
There was no rain, although they were glad it was gone.
They knew they were finished bothering with burying Sasuke safely underground. It was almost like laying sins and troubles away from them, so they could live without a haunting burden threatening to lacerate their flesh and tear them in two.
They knew now—Sasuke and Death lay beneath safely unperturbed.