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A/N: I don't own Naruto.



Terpsichore

being visited by truth that is not misleading,
on the other end of the phone
weakly floating your voice:
"if this has already been cut off, then..."
you said;
trembling,
I am already alone...
--MYV




1: darkness with me >

Every time he close his eyes, their faces would disappear. Then total darkness swallows up their glowers like nothing. And if he close his eyes long enough, the pain melts as well. As if the hurt was never there, and all he could feel was secureness in the dark.

It was what he felt at night, when he slept. How, sometimes, the darkness coats over the memorable looks of disgust they publicly show him. At daytime, he would take longer time to blink, relishing in the blackness he saw for a split second, where no faces ever displayed hate.

It was better that way, looking at the sun for encouragement, and then the moon for solace. In any case, what is bright would eventually become dull... and light will become dark. Like a cycle, repeating itself to the point where one of the factor collapses. For Naruto, it was an even fifty-fifty, and one was bound to lose a chance.

This time, at midafternoon of the first day of the tenth month of the time of the Celebration, when Uzumaki Naruto closed his eyes, the lethal pain he felt on his right arm and right rib subsided only a little bit.

He sat on the empty tub in his bathroom, torso naked, and a small box of first-aid kit lying in front of his curled toes. He couldn't get the water running for he'd be scared either hot or cold would only aggravate the pain, and if he tried to crouch low, the pain would certainly worsen.

With his left hand, he took out the remaining little roll of bandage from the kit, biting the end and unrolling the small patch, twisting his head over his shoulder. He grimaced, crunching his nose and narrowing his eyes when the roll reached its remnant.

He cursed.

He was damned for sole missions, where he always ended up getting wounds and scratches. Today was no different and, no thanks to that old hag, he wouldn't be able to do another mission in order to skip the few days away from Konoha.

He cried out when his right elbow accidentally brushed against his rib when his thoughts wandered. A long tremor of pain wracked from the wound throughout his body. He shut his eyes to bask in and allay the ache but ended up feeling numb. He bit the edge of the bandage hard and threw the discarded patch with his left hand to the closed bathroom door.

When the pain subsided a few minutes later, he took the bandage from his mouth and started wrapping from his right wrist to his...

Naruto cursed again when there was no wrapping left, and the bandage barely reached an inch from the cut he had. He would blame the damned mercenaries that tackled him and nearly tore his skin while he was so busy thinking.

A one-and-half-inch deep wound sliced his upper right shoulder all the way down the midst of his lower right arm. The bandage wasn't even layered enough to cover his wrist. Luckily, the few centimeter deep slashes he had on his right ribs weren't too deep to break his bones... literally.

And where the hell was he going to get another roll of bandage?

He'd already wasted the lot from previous missions, and he counted on Kyuubi to heal him faster. But at this rate, it'd probably take more than two days for the stupid fox to completely cure him, and he needed just one to stay in the village then leave.

Naruto peeled off the bandage around his wrist and threw them to the door as well. Not only did he arrived at such a bad state, he'd also arrived in a bad mood, winding up snapping at Iruka-sensei, Kakashi-sensei, Sasuke, /and /Sakura-chan on his way home.

They were so going to kill him now.

He didn't even want to go back to Konoha this week, not to mention this month. People were more livelier and shouts of rejoicing echoed from the area near the Hokage mountain, where the villagers were already getting ready for the Fete. When that week comes, every single dwellers of Konoha would forget about missions, and all attention would head straight to celebrating, dancing, and mourning.

It was something that happen once a year, for one week, celebrating the tenth day of the tenth month of triumph. Nobody acknowledged that he had never once participated in it for he begged (/beg/, too, dammit!) the Hokage to assign him a mission that would last a month. It worked, and everyone believed him, that to get stronger, he'd have to busy himself with difficult tasks. That it wasn't because he was trying to avoid Konoha's crucial festival of Kyuubi's defeat.

Of course, the latter part was true.

He managed to sit up without screaming this time. He scanned through his first-aid kit. Most of them were expired and the ones who were available were alcoholic and he wouldn't dare go screaming throughout the building. Even if it was effective, he couldn't risk the chances of anyone discovering he was seriously injured, let alone being caught off-guard by simpletons.

With a grunt, Naruto painfully stood up and stepped over the tub, without slipping (this time). He exited the bathroom and headed to his room, where he would stay until he was halfway healed.

Sakura-chan was looking forward to it, nostalgically wanting former Team 7 to go to the Fete together. She was going on her traditional pink kimono with cherry blossom designs, and Naruto couldn't wait to escort her, before realizing that he wasn't planning on going. He'd just gotten over his giddy crush last year and they both agreed that friendship was more suitable. Although she honestly told Sasuke that friendship might also work for the two, the pink-haired was still defendant and slightly still obsessive (due to Ino), though it was faint.

Course, she had forced Kakashi-sensei to go, timidly inquired Sasuke, and both reluctantly agreed. She never asked Naruto for she knew why he'd say 'no'. Then again, everyone in the village knew why he didn't want to go... why he wasn't going, and why he shouldn't be going.

It only happened once a year and Naruto was thankful that that added hatred to the point everyone was ignoring him, or were disgraced to look at him, only lasted for seven days.

After that, it was just the ordinary cold shoulders and the lightly brushing him off. He'd rather have that than being shamed to look at every day with the same furious eyes he was already seeing in reality's light.

He maneuvered himself on his bed in a slow motion, sliding his body on top of the blanket. He stretched his right arm away from his rib cage and exhaled.

The pain was excruciating before and after he received it. Being occupied with his thoughts pained him and even more after he encountered the blows. He could have stayed in the Mist but there was no room left, not to mention the hospital full and being renovated. So it had taken him a day and a half to limp back to Konoha. Just that undergo worsened the physical pain and Kyuubi's advantage to mend faster.

Night was swallowing the sunset, and joyful screaming was heard out of the opened window. White curtains waved with the oncoming wind as it carried the music inside the gloomy dark bedroom.

There should be colorful lights all around the Fete area. If not, music should have been louder, too. People were slowly starting to leave their home to watch workers forge the temporary open-air park of festivity. If the music wasn't so melancholic, he'd even heard a few crying just passed his apartment.

The sound of crying wasn't on Naruto's list of strong points. He'd already gotten over crying every day and night when he was twelve. He didn't want to listen to it anymore and would result to start sobbing again.

But Naruto longed to see the festival, yet the fact that he had made it happened through Kyuubi murdering villagers of Konoha quickly deleted the yearning into regret.

Why the fuck were they so /happy/?

That day in which Kyuubi was foiled and sealed inside was nothing to barrack about.

Not many people mourned, for it made them more depressed.

So they danced, sang, and played.

That was what Sakura-chan told him. She told him that on the exact day of Kyuubi's trounce, everyone danced and sang and played their hearts out, their minds out, until they forgot about the sorrow it had brought them. So that they could move on the next day.

She only scowled when Naruto laughed and called the tradition stupid. He didn't want her to smack him hard if he called it 'fucked-up'.

On the days Kyuubi was sealed, all Naruto did was mourn, and it made him more depressed.

He left her before she could preach him about the lesson everyone was learning, but that wouldn't go through his head. For seventeen and a half years they did that, but they weren't doing anything to Naruto, or for him.

The Fete was, really, just a selfish conventional sham.

But, maybe... the shamming of it all made Naruto yearn to see it.

Just one look inside the area, not outside, behind the bushes and trees, hundreds of yards away from it's boundary, watching people laugh. The longing in his eyes were shadowed in the dark.

When asked, Naruto would say no and his friends would understand. They never ask him to join them. Because if they did, they wouldn't have spotted him behind the bushes and turn back around like he wasn't there at all.

There was that subconscious flicker of pity after glancing at him in the darkness. Like he was darkness itself and he wasn't seen. Just another entity in the shadows nobody scarcely noticed. As though, he only exists in front of them when it was convenient.

Even if he were to exist or not exist, would there be a difference in the world and time?

If he was to exist naturally, would he have made a difference?

But if he was to exist without Kyuubi, would he have been more real in their eyes and not just a false human being, made friends, and still had a family? Or had he depended way too much on Kyuubi for himself to be a true shinobi?

He had never experienced being normal, and even though he acted like one everyday, it just wasn't the same feeling the actual one. He asked Iruka-sensei if he thought he was normal. All he got was 'of course', and that sad smile Naruto couldn't trust. It seems that he couldn't trust smiles anymore, peculiarly the eyes.

Then... if he was to never existed, would it make a bigger difference to the world? Then they could have sealed Kyuubi with another infant. Naruto frowned. Then, it would just be another existence whose existence had been like Naruto's.

So... there was really no difference if he should die or live, at all. In the end, it's still the same pain.

Naruto found himself humming with the songs outside the darkening sky. Found himself listening intently with the children who hollered out the tune all around the village. The other people possibly smiled and followed along, while he, vacant face, merely hummed with the rhythm.

There was a moment in time when the night made him feel at ease. Like if he closed his eyes, everything he saw would disappear. Like if he shut his sight out from the one glance of the people in this village, then everything would be just fine.

Like, for example, floating beneath the waters, where he would be far away from the surface of every problems. To never look at their faces again. He thought that, maybe way too many times, the moment people biased him.

That if he just closed his two bright blue eyes, their words would disappear and he would prove to them how powerful he really is. How acceptable he will be when he would soon be the next Hokage in line. No-/will/ be.

But on the tenth month of the coming tenth day, the nights betrayed him, and the days burned his pride. And sometimes, in such a weakened state, he thought that maybe if he was blind the moment he was born, he wouldn't have to absorb so many hatred within his heart.

That, per se, he kept his eyes close forever, covered his ugly face with tainted hands, the people would be happier. Because to them, he was already dead.

It eased Naruto, thinking it, for if he close his eyes for a long long time, the million eyes that looked at him with pity, either fleeting or publicly, would disappear, and that's when everything would be all right.





-





If someone says 'I'm fine'/, they usually aren't. Especially if they snap it at you when you charitably ask them how they were doing. And, yes, 'I'm fucking fine, bastard-fuck off!!'/ was a one-hundred percent chance that they aren't all that fine.

Sasuke knew instantly when Naruto snapped after seeing the blond walk pass Ichiraku at such a very agonizingly slow pace, who had quietly ignored him after.

Nobody noticed the way he limped. Not that they would, or care.

Sasuke had been filled in the important basics he needed to learn a few months after his temporary restrictions were over, a year and a half ago when he had returned to Konoha.

Well, he couldn't quite say he wasn't shocked, and he was, through that empty face he'd trained to be vacant. A feeling he hadn't felt for a long time arrived and he was pretty it had been pity.

But did pity heightened the sense of sadness and sorrow he felt?

Was it sympathy that he felt for Naruto every time he looked at him in the eye or spoke to him when either one was in a bad mood?

It did make sense when Naruto didn't take part of the Fete in their earlier age.

And it did make sense why the moron was so disliked.

Naturally, who wouldn't be so annoyed by him?

Sasuke was sure not a single soul in the world would want or like someone who opened their mouth twenty-four-seven and have the stamina to hop around like a silly hare.

He'd learned why Naruto suddenly began to busy himself with missions when September almost ended from Sakura (who, to his relief and chagrin, could not keep a secret from him). He had done the same, avoiding not only his current problems, but the chittering desperation of the girls of Konoha to get him to go with them to the festival.

He couldn't make sense why the fan club still persisted on after the way he assassinated all those he trusted. Never knew why he was still dubbed as Konoha's prodigy, the genius boy, and the so-called most popular.

If he was so popular, why was he not interested in being in the crowd and chat with people like a normal person? Because he didn't want to be well-known.

Staying away from people he didn't want to be around with was easy enough. There was simply one that he discovered he couldn't quite brush off as much as he had done years ago. It didn't matter whether he made the icy walls around his heart thicker, or emptied his soul. It didn't matter whether he glowered at people or casted them out of his heart.

He realized that when he came back that there would be someone who'd willingly act like he had never done anything to them, that he had never tried to kill him. Someone still had the will to strike through within him.

Suddenly finding himself sitting up on his bed and staring at the night-sky outside his bedroom window, Sasuke stood up and double checked the lock to see if the window really was tightly shut. The cheery sound outside his apartment made him frown and children running towards Mount Hokage's direction and into the readying Fete made him slide the curtains shut.

Tomorrow night was the start of the celebration and he stayed inside his apartment just in case girls floundered around him. They were awful at sneaking and most were too blinded by his looks to tell that he was a fake until he disappeared into a puff of smoke. There was no way females of Konoha could become great shinobi with the way they acted around him.

Maybe it was because he scorned women.

Sasuke marched back onto his bed. He crawled beneath the white blankets and continued to sleep. It was a clear disadvantage to try and blend in the crowd and still be invisible. Which was probably why he was so pulled into that certain person's string, too.

It wasn't that he'd been thinking about the coerce that suddenly pulled him towards that half-wit. It was the moment he had realized that Naruto was someone significant to him, as a friend; the one component he had been trying to avoid. But it was already too late to avert that element, now that everything was almost all right.

The only thing he certainly wanted to push aside was another turmoil of feeling he had noticed that time Naruto snarled at him this midafternoon, and glared at him with sapphire eyes.

Fading sapphire eyes.

...Oddly, unspoken, damaged blue eyes.





-





Kyuubi had successfully healed some part of his wound, enabling him to actually move just a little bit so that he was on his side with the wound sticking up and his right arm flailed in front of him. There was still that excruciating pain, but it wasn't as lethally tormenting as it had been a few days ago. He still winced when he moved more than eight degrees of his position, but it was better than not being able to move at all.

The twenty-four-hour journey he did on foot made him gratefully exhausted. When he woke up, it was already the end of the afternoon and his upper right side felt extremely numb. The aureate sky and its rotted yellow color beamed down on him, making Naruto shiver. Then again, he had been shivering all night after forgetting to close the window.

He was sure he was going to get a cold...

Naruto crunched his face when his nose tingled and he divulged a quiet sneeze. He sniffled and wiped his upper lip with his right hand. He groaned when he turned over to his back. Unfortunately, feeling invulnerable everyday had it's limit and the bones were bound to scream out of soreness.

He could have slept some more but the urge to piss really bad woke him and the dread that he wouldn't be able to get up that quick, not to mention /run/, to the bathroom. There was no way in hell he'd risk an accident on his bed.

Biting his bottom lip, Naruto tardily lifted his upper torso by pushing his elbows against the bed. He flinched and the wave of pain shot through him, causing him to double over and immediately bend forward and clutch his arms, his forehead against bent knees. The pain on his rib-cage only made it hurt ten-fold and he resisted the urge to cry.

"Fuck!" he closed his eyes and tried to relish the pain like he did last night. It worked faster and the tremor of ache benumbed him.

Shit, Kyuubi, heal me quicker! It still hurts!

Damn those low-level mercenaries.

After a long moment of rejuvenating, Naruto rubbed his teary-eyes with his left hand and took a huge load of air into his lung. Hesitating a little, he carried his legs off the edge of the bed and manage to sit himself, straightening his back oh-so-very slowly.

He would have gone to the hospital, but it seemed that this week was an 'oh-dear-poor-Naruto-the-cursed-let's-pity-him-'cause-he's-got-that-Kyuubi-inside-him-the-poor-little-thing!'. Luckily, he wasn't limping no more, and it only faintly hurt when he twist his upper body to left or right. Cradling his right arm with his left, Naruto headed to the bathroom.

Even in the closed bathroom, the sound outside could still be heard. Naruto cursed at the undeniably catchy tune humming around the village. If it wasn't only that, he'd also dreamed of people singing the damned made-up tune last night.

Only this time, they were the singing eyes of the villagers, which was more likely to occur in a nightmare if they're chasing you through a tunnel of darkness until you break your legs and run out of air. Of course, a nightmare would have to succumb to the part that he was being torn by the mouthful eyes, and nobody else cared that he cried.

That was likely why he woke up with that teary-eyes...

Before Naruto turned the faucet of the sink, he felt something trickle down his side and arm. With slightly widened eyes, he lifted his right elbow and scanned his rib injury. He groaned. Blood drooled down the slope of his torso, as well as down his right wrist.

"Eww, gross!" he craunched his face and moved his right elbow away from his face at the sight of foul pus.

On the spur of the moment, he lost appetite, and immediately brought that arm down the sink, and rinsed the pus, blood, and wound off. That subconscious act made him scream and yank the arm away from the icy cold water.

Sucking his lips, Naruto babied his aching arm and grabbed the towel hanging on the wall. He gently pressed the soft cloth against the wound, ignoring the cringes he made.

Gods, you're so stupid sometimes!

He waited until the blood stopped flowing on his arm. The towel was already soaked with blood when it stopped and he grabbed another towel to dab it on the flowing blood on his waist. He gently pressed the cloth onto the wound on his rib-cage and waited an eternity for the second flowing to stop.

At an ungodly time of the day, at the worse time to run out of stocks, Naruto could only think of getting out and buying another pack of first-aid kit. If he went to the old hag, she'd refuse to set him out on a mission after he'd finish bandaging himself.

Telling Kakashi-sensei would still result for the man to tell the old hag either ways. If he told the perverted sennin, the old pervert might have to concoct his own medical potions and Naruto wouldn't dare risk alcoholic being poured down his injuries.

If he told Sakura-chan... she might just tie him up to a hospital bed and threaten him that if he were to go on a mission after being bandaged, she would cut him in four pieces.

However, if he told Sasuke he wouldn't know what the other would do. He admitted the Uchiha didn't have that of a black heart to tell him to live with it even if it kills, and he obviously wouldn't have the heart to help him. Of course... he would never ask Sasuke.

Besides... Naruto was trying to avoid the dark-haired.

Missions after missions didn't make it suspicious and he hadn't seen the dark-haired for a week now.

Whilst snarling at him yesterday wasn't his plan, he'd have to blame it all on his bad mood. Sasuke wouldn't care anyway, he was always cold and brittle, and he wouldn't give a shit about what happened to him. Sure they hanged out once in a while-or most of the time-or somewhat everyday-well, practically everyday (it was because one of them would eventually bump into the other and end up hanging out together - it doesn't mean anything!)-but /still/...! If Naruto were to show him his wounds, he might just do the same thing the villagers would do.

Pity him.

With a scowl, Naruto growled and shut his eyes.

Shit, he was thinking about that guy again! He had just failed his goal to stop thinking about the Uchiha for one month, and one week barely started!

He didn't know when it happened... it just did. It was probably because of that mission he had with him a few months ago-or maybe it had been there all along-but he began experiencing that one emotion he thought given up so little by little when Sasuke stared at him every time he talk to him.

He blamed it on Sasuke for doing the littlest things that can unhinge him, even by a mere stare. Ever since he came back to Konoha, all Naruto did was flounce like a happy bunny without even knowing it and, realizing that he'd done that, resulted him to lose half of his pride and crawl under his blanket, chagrined. Amazingly, or maybe not, Sasuke didn't seem to notice... or mind? He didn't know, but he wouldn't dare let his imaginations wander further than it already had.

Luckily, the flow stopped and only left a very bumpy wound. He didn't have time to bend down and throw the bloodied towels from the floor. If he wanted his wound to heal faster, he might as well do it the usual fashion and get himself another box of first-aid while fox takes its time.

Walking out of the bathroom and in his bedroom, Naruto brought out his chuunin uniform (omit the tight vest) and changed his pants. He took out a pair of scissors and prayed that in his closet he still had a few spares.

Looking at the bloodstained blanket and bed sheets, cursing at the deepened blood, he cut out a good long shred of his blanket, long enough that when he wrapped it tightly around his arm and rib wound, it made a good three layer. He ignored the bed sheets for now and pulled his chuunin top over his torso. He shut his eyes and shook his head. When he slowly stretched his arms in front of him, no bandage was seen. He smiled in satisfaction.

He took his old frog wallet and stuffed it in his pocket, rushing out to the doorway as he put his sandals on. He didn't lock the door, because nobody would go in anyway. At the time of the celebration, nobody trespassed his space.

When he made sure the deserted apartment was really deserted, he sighed and hummed the tune from outside. He raked his wild blond hair, uncaring that he had not put on his hitai-ate.

He didn't mind, for now.

If he went out with that symbol on his forehead, all the villagers would be distressed.

If he went out with that valuable trademark on his godforsaken forehead, everyone would be reminded that the hated fox who had killed so many in Konoha-the demon in which they were trying to celebrate its defeat and very much forget its existence-still lives in Konoha.

It was a thought that saddened him a bit, as Naruto stepped out of the building, faced with lionizing human beings. As the afternoon light, breeze, and singing fell around him, the dispirited look he had a moment ago was replaced with a grin he couldn't quite promise was real. Even if he wanted to, there was no turning back.





-





to be continued



this is not beta-ed. if ive managed to bore you with the on-going internal monologue, please say so and i'll do my best to write the next chapter avoiding this incident. review? (",)