Okay. Was listening to E.S.
Posthumus's song,
Elysium
The
birthing room is dark, lit only by a single candle that gutters and sputters
and tries vainly to die but can't.
He looks at her though he
doesn't see her; it's more like he looks through her. At the night they
were together in a hayloft. At the inexperienced tongues, the questing fingers,
the whispered words. At a beginning and at an end.
She's given him a child. A
son. A golden boy. Big blue eyes, blonde hair. Rambunctious.
A moth bashes itself
against the closed window; try again, keep going. Must get out, must get
out...outoutout.
In.
We made a baby, Minato.
He watches the moth, turns,
watches the flame.
Life is a road to death. Every
breath brings you closer.
I think we should get
married eventually.
He stands.
"Have to leave now,
kiddo."
What should we call him?
"I'll see you soon.
Wait for me."
Her hands crossed over her
bloated belly are white, and they seem to glow.
You're going to be a
wonderful father, I can tell.
Before he goes, Minato
blows out the candle.
Naruto. His name is
Naruto.
---
He knows what he has to do,
and he knows what will come of it. He knows the village will mourn him and
celebrate him in turns. He knows he'll be immortalized. He knows his son will
grow up without his parents.
"I failed you today,
Naruto," he says. The baby gazes at him with wide, innocent, trusting
eyes, the eyes he used to have. "All you'll remember of me are the stories
they'll tell you." And stories lie. Stories forget the truth.
He knows what he has to do,
and he knows that he's scared. He knows that he'd rather run. He knows pain,
and he knows there will be much of it where his spirit is destined.
"Sarutobi promised he
would explain everything to them, little guy. He said he'd make sure you were
considered a hero."
He knows this child is
condemned.
Leaning close, he places a
kiss
a mark, a brand
on the tiny forehead.
"Goodbye,
Naruto."
He breathes.
---
The moth careens to the
ground.
---