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The Name of His Smile by elict

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Chapter notes: AN: Written for sasunaru100's challenge; Loneliness, but I don't think that I ever posted it...

Disclaimer: I don't own the magnificent world or characters of Naruto, of which we are all very grateful ^^


oooo

It should rain. It really should rain.

He stares up at a sky that is so very much free from any clouds, birds flying across the blue background, singing, playing, living…

The sun graces the treetops, colouring them in bright, cheerful colours, light seeping through the leaves, dancing across his cheekbones, his perfectly shaped face, smooth, pale skin, never scarred by flying shuriken or kunai, over lips that show no sign of having ever been broken, never bit down upon…

Lips where the evidence of heated kisses and playful nips are but the whisper of a memory, lost to anyone but him.

It should rain. It’s so wrong that the sun if shining on him, forcing it’s way through the forest roof to warm his skin, when he knows that there’s just no way for it to succeed. This sun won’t do anything for his cold features, won’t break his emotionless face into a smile, won’t make him laugh, live, love…

He wishes so badly for it to rain.

Because then he could stand in the rain, let it wash over him, and he could pretend that the droplets that falls down his face is his own tears blending with the tears of the heaven.

But the heaven is smiling. It is bathing the landscape in beautiful light, as if it’s happy that it’s concurrent finally is gone, the one with the smile that could crush every dark feeling in a heart, wipe away loneliness with just a tug at the corner of his mouth…

Now who’s supposed to hunt away that loneliness from his life? Who is supposed to fill the empty space inside him that appears every time he enters the empty apartment, every time that he prepares a meal, every time he goes to sleep, every time he wakes up…?

It really, really should rain. Rain on that stupid rock, rain on all of those names, wash over it again and again, and maybe finally roughen the stone so much that that name would disappear.

A rustle of leaves doesn’t even make him stir, doesn’t draw his gaze away from the stone as another person enters the clearing. He won’t move as this new person walks up to him, stands beside him, stares down at the stone, at that name, with dark eyes that so many says is so very similar to his.

“It feels really strange…” the other boy mumbles, as he bends down to touch the cold material, letting his fingers graze over the carved name. “I still can’t believe that he’s gone.”

He doesn’t answer. The boy stands again, he turns to travel his eyes over pale features, searching for a response that both know isn’t there. Not for him. Not for anyone that is left.

“Sakura wanted me to ask you if you’d care to join us for dinner later,” he continues, obviously fighting to keep his voice casual. “If you don’t feel like eating alone.”

That earns him a quick glance. “Hn,” he says; a short, nasal sound. It doesn’t really mean anything, but he knows that if he doesn’t give any response, the other will just stay longer to pester him. They are all expecting him to answer; that is all they want. It doesn’t matter what he says, as long as they get a sound. A proof that he still lives.

“Okay, then.” At least the annoyance takes the hint. “It’ll be done by seven. We’ll expect to see you then.”

He stays for a moment longer, still resting his stare at him, as if he wants another answer. When he doesn’t get any, he shrugs and leaps into the trees.

They both know that he won’t be there for the dinner. There’s no reason for him to sit amongst them and pretend, try to act normal for Sakura, try to get the smiles and answers at the right place, try to remember who it was that said what, try to eat without grimacing when the food turns into a lump of dry, tasteless mass in his mouth, getting stuck in his throat, choking him.

There’s no reason.

Because none of them has wild, blond hair and whiskered cheeks. None of them has those sparkling blue eyes that awakens his dead soul, none of them has that sun-conquering smile, that guides him and tells him how to live.

…He wishes that it would rain.

Because then he could stand in the rain, and he could pretend that the moist that falls down his face is just the rain, that drowns him, makes his clothes damp and cold, and he could pretend that it is the cold that makes his shoulders shake, his breath hitch and his chest tighten.

But there’s no rain. No one is there to take mercy on him, as he clenches his fists, his nails almost breaking skin as he stares down at the rock, his vision blurry as he reads those kanji again, and again, repeating that name in his head, as if he wanted to carve it into his heart, write it in blood on his soul, so that he’ll never forgive himself, never, ever forget.

The name of his smile.

Uzumaki Naruto.


oooo

Owari

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