Request fic for Smiter.
He wanted me to do something NaruSaku (dealing with chapter 309), so here it
is. Hope y'all enjoy!
Cyclical
Naruto has
known failure all his life.
Failure to graduate from
Academy. Failure to impress the girl he loves. Failure to pass the Chuunin
exam. Failure to depend on others.
Failure to understand the
science of revenge.
“As long as I have it,
the world can go to hell. Nothing else binds me here, Naruto. Nothing. Not you,
not Sakura, not Konoha. You’re in my way.”
He just doesn’t get it. And
even if he does, the ability to admit it is beyond his reach. What would Naruto
do if he had a family and lost it? What shape would his anger wear?
"Alone, I do not
have the strength to defeat him. If I join with Orochimaru, my chances will
increase.”
Snakes. Slithering,
sliding, hissing, winding…wrapping around and around and around him, squeezing
tighter, killing him a little more, making him forget that he is human…
Or is he?
Use my power, brat. Show
them all. Show them my legacy…
Their chakra is merging. He
can feel it sometimes, a slight flash of bloodlust that does not belong to him,
a hunger for dominance. And then Naruto wonders. Does he want to become
Hokage, or does Kyuubi?
A snake and a fox. A
deceiver and a demon. They are different….are different…different…
“We’ll camp
here for the night, move out in the morning,” Yamato says in a subdued voice,
and sits down beside his pack. “Godaime-sama will want to know the details as
soon as possible.” He looks at Sai. “And I’m sure Danzou is anxious to hear
from you.”
Sasuke’s replacement
inclines his head, takes a seat near the captain. “I’ll have to lie to him, of
course. He’ll be so disappointed.”
“You’re taking this
lightly,” Sakura says, lips curled up in the barest hint of a smile. “The
mission is incomplete. You didn’t kill…him.” Kneeling, she rummages through her
pack for some bandages and disinfecting ointment. “Here, Yamato-taichou. Let me
fix that.” She gestures at the older man’s wound, which has begun to ooze
again, and he obediently moves his arms out of the way so she can get started.
Sai has his notebook open
on his lap, and holds a brush in his right hand. “Nobody’s perfect,” he says,
dipping the tip of the brush into the inkwell by his feet. “Danzou won’t be
happy, sure, but I’m prepared for the worst.” A crease forms between his brows
as he begins to draw, pausing frequently to re-ink the brush. “My motives were
just, so the retribution’s worth it.”
Gently peeling Yamato’s
shirt away from the gash, Sakura murmurs, “Thank you, Sai.”
Concentrating on his
sketch, he does not respond, but grins instead.
“Naruto,” Yamato calls,
“come here and eat something.”
The blonde boy stands with
his back to his teammates at the edge of the clearing, unmoving, the wind
whipping his hair against his cheeks. His energy is sapped—he cannot find the
will to speak, to scream, to breathe…
Sasuke was here. Here and
gone, like a wisp of smoke, like a cyclone that destroys everything it touches.
He was here.
“Please, Naruto.”
That voice…not
Yamato…Sakura.
“You need to eat or you’ll
collapse.”
Her face. He wants to see
her face.
Naruto turns.
She’s looking at him, her
eyes hooded, soft. Has she ever looked at him that way before? He can’t
remember…
“Sakura…chan…”
And before the world fades
to black, he hears her cry out his name.
“You’re
not alone, you know. I haven’t left you, and I don’t plan to.”
Who…?
“We have to be firm now,
Naruto. We have to keep going. He’s made our path clear.”
He can’t. He promised her
he’d get him back, and he failed.
“We’ll be okay. I swear
it, Naruto. We’ll be okay.”
Will they?
“I’m watching over you.”
Why? He doesn’t deserve it…
“Rest.”
He sleeps.
The walls
around him rise to the skies, rise up so high that even when he cranes his
neck, he cannot see where they end.
He is in a dark, dark
place. No light…no dancing shadows…only stillness. It’s as if he’s imprisoned
in a tableau, limbs frozen, lungs filled with stale air, waiting to exhale.
Let me out, he screams, but
the walls absorb his cry, and all he’s left with is silence, deep and
penetrating.
It terrifies him, the
silence, because Naruto has always had words. Alone for most of his life, he
needed words to keep him company, to express what he felt and why he felt it,
to give his dreams form. As long as he had words, he wasn’t truly alone, but
the words are gone.
“Naruto.”
Gonegonegonegone…
“You’re pathetic.”
Not gone. No, he senses
them, senses him.
Where are you? Show
yourself!
“You know where I am.”
Show me!
Slowly, two slits in the
wall opposite him appear and open, revealing reddish-yellow irises, elongated
pupils. The eyes stare at him as, below the blank space where the nose should
be, a mouth stretches into a sharp-toothed sneer.
“Surprised?”
The creature laughs, a low,
rasping sound that reminds him of decay, of disease.
What have you done? What
have you done to yourself, Sasuke?
“I have made…improvements.
I am ready to take what I want. What have you done Naruto? How much closer are
you to becoming Hokage? You allowed me to slip away.”
Stop.
“You watched me leave.”
Stop it.
“You failed.”
SHUT UP!
A forked tongue darts from
the gaping mouth, a slithering snake, wrapping around and around and around…
“No!”
He sits up, eyes wild,
chest heaving, fear sweat coating his skin. He does not know where he is.
“Naruto?”
He feels the cool hand on
his forehead, though he doesn’t realize who it belongs to until she comes into
focus a few seconds later, and the first thing he sees are the circles under
her eyes.
“Sakura-chan,” he starts to
say, but she shakes her head, and, putting one hand on his back and the other
on his chest, eases him back onto his bedroll. Drained, both physically and
emotionally, he does not object.
“You were thinking of him,
weren’t you?” She says quietly, to avoid waking the others—Yamato had fallen
asleep soon after his treatment was finished, and Sai followed an hour or so
later, once he’d completed his painting.
Naruto swallows, wincing.
His throat is raw. “How did you know?”
“You said his name.”
“Oh…”
Sakura blinks a few times
and rubs her eyes. “It’s been a crazy day, huh?” Her head droops, as if it’s
too heavy for her neck to support.
He frowns. “How long was I
out?”
“Six hours, give or take.”
“You didn’t sleep,” he
accuses, once again focusing on the bags under her eyes.
“No,” she says frankly, “I
didn’t.”
And that makes him furious.
“You’re gonna get sick! Look at you!” Despite the warning glare she gives him,
he props himself on his elbows, and then uses them for leverage to sit up all
the way. “I should’ve listened when you told me to eat. I knew my body
was low on juice, but I was too fucking busy feeling sorry for myself…Why can’t
I ever do anything right?” He snarls suddenly. “He was there, Sakura!
All I had to do was reach for him, and…”
“I was there, too,” she replies, seeming to wilt more and more as the time
passes. “And, in case you hadn’t noticed, I was about as effective as a gnat.”
She rubs her eyes a bit harder than before. “You did what you could—”
“Oh sure,” Naruto says, voice sardonic. “If you call dicking around with my
jaw hanging open while Sasuke mindfucked me doing what I could.”
Sakura glances at him sharply. “Now you’re just being an asshole. Quit it.”
She runs trembling fingers through her hair, raking it almost savagely away
from her face. “I’m trying really hard not to cry,” she says, voice barely
above a whisper. “And this isn’t helping.”
Horrified, Naruto says, “I’m sorry, Sakura-chan. I didn’t mean to—” A wave
of dizziness washes over him, and he squeezes his eyes shut.
“Idiot,” the medic admonishes, and puts an arm about his shoulders. “You
never learn, do you?”
“I guess not,” he groans, and, before he can think about it, he’s leaning
into her, face pressed against her neck. “Hold me,” he says, and his voice
cracks. “You can cry on me…but, God…hold me while you do it…”
For a fraction of a second, a heartbeat, a sigh, there is hesitation, and
then both her arms are around him, clinging tightly, as though he is her anchor
to the world, as though she wants to meld with him, to share his suffering, to
share her suffering.
“It isn’t our fault,” she says hoarsely. “Yours or mine. We…he chose his
road, Naruto. You know Sasuke-kun better than anyone else. He’s as stubborn as
you are.”
Naruto’s sobs are noiseless, but they wrack his whole body. Her arms tighten
on him, and his own move to encircle her waist.
“I’m not stubborn enough,” he croaks. “Not enough…”
“Me neither,” she agrees, resting her forehead on his crown. “We’ll have to
work on that.”
Naruto shudders. “I don’t want to watch him destroy himself, Sakura-chan.
It’s so stupid! Revenge…revenge…what good is it doing him? It
won’t bring his fucking family back!”
“I know,” she says, tearstains on her cheeks. “I know.”
The wind howls through the trees surrounding the clearing like a lament. In
their bedrolls, Sai and Yamato sleep on, dreaming or not dreaming.
Sakura holds Naruto, holds him until his tears run dry, until her eyes
finally drift shut and exhaustion consumes her, until he is the one keeping
vigil over her.
This is the difference
between him and Sasuke. This is what makes Naruto who he is, not who he might
be.
This is why, when next they
meet, he will treat his best friend as an enemy, because it is the only way he knows
of to save him.
Sakura…Sasuke’s agenda
threatens her, threatens everything that Naruto loves, and his ties are not so
easily severed.
Because she did the same
for him, Naruto remains awake the rest of the night, guarding Sakura as she
sleeps.
“Here,” Sai
says the next morning after they break camp and start for home. He passes
Naruto his notebook, flipped open to a particular page. “I would’ve shown it to
you yesterday, but I don’t think you were ready yet.” He winks and joins
Yamato, leaving Naruto and Sakura to walk side by side.
Brows raised, Naruto peers
at the painting, and flushes.
“What is it?” Sakura says,
snatching the notebook from her companion. “He refused to let me peek—” Her
cheeks burn. “Oh…oh that little…Sai! Why did you…what were you…”
“Adorable picture, no?” Sai
remarks cheerfully. “I believe I’ll call it ‘Cyclical.’ Quite fitting, when you
think about it.”
Yamato chuckles. “Leave
them alone, Sai.”
“Cyclical?” Sakura
says, blush deepening. “Do you even know what that means?”
Naruto doesn’t catch the
rest of their banter, because he is transfixed by the image drawn on the paper.
A boy and a girl, the boy
with blonde hair and whiskers, the girl with pink hair and soft emerald eyes,
hold one another, clasped hands thrust in front of them as if they were dancing
a tango.
Tangos, perfect ones,
require both partners to be in synch, able to lead and be led.
He smiles.
Cyclical. He likes the
sound of that.