Chapter Text
"I am made of bullets; shrapnel.
You are solar flares and soft lips -
better creatures could love you, I know.
But now they'll have to get through me."
Unknown
One year ago
Naruto never cared for nights; the way the moon would stare back at him with its pale light, dull and seemingly lifeless. The quiet would creep in, slowly pull a blanket of solitude over his heart and threaten to smother; It’s light not quite strong enough to overcome the clouds that would inevitably drift by. Sometimes, the clouds would overtake it for the entirety of the night - and it was there in that darkness, memory would awaken from its slumber and begin to ravage. He prefers the sleep he gets when on missions. Out there in the forest or the desert theres a closeness to the sky unlike that of home, a camaraderie. There’s nothing but an open space filled with winking stars that are full of hope and life, scattered for as far as the eyes can see; each one holding a wish and an answer.
The wind howls with a timbre close to that of a wail, lonely and burdened. It pulls at Naruto’s clothes with desperate attempts to find purchase. He pays no mind to its greedy fingers and lets it mourn whatever and however it may, knowing what it’s like to be alone and full of sorrow with no one caring to listen. His entire life has been a long hallway of empty rooms and dust ridden floors that only clear with his own breathless sobs. He’d often hope to open one of those doors and find another, ready and willing to walk the corridor alongside him. He wouldn’t be alone on that dark and endless path, anymore. His hair whips at has face, slightly longer than it’s been for some time, now. The end of summer brings a breeze he’s not accustomed to. It makes him feel like it’s whistling right through his hollow bones; empty and more alone than he’d like to admit.
The moon reflects within his eye, round and revealing as he no longer cowers from it. Something familiar calls to him when he beholds its face, though he cannot decipher what it says; separated only by words, not feeling.
The roof tiles of his small apartment press into the back of his thighs with cutting force as he swings his legs back and forth, preferring this over the suffocating walls inside that only seem to grow smaller as the days pass. A feeling of unrest has been silently lifting its head and peering at Naruto from the dark; It’s bright, glowing eyes foreshadowing something he cannot seem to grasp. It’s in every sob of wind - every rustling of trees that sway with anxious urgency. Even his dreams have been infiltrated, full of nothing but a darkness that seems to lay waste to everything once existing. It’s so tangible, so thick and heavy he could raise a hand and demand it take shape. An omen, he knows but he wants to remain ignorant to it. Naruto has a bad habit of that; turning a blind eye to the water slowly easing itself through a crack he’s ignored. Sometimes he thinks if he just piles all the good he can conjure, all the kindness and love he has, it’ll smother all opposing thoughts and feelings. He’s only recently learnt how wrong that is, how irrevocably useless it happens to be.
Naruto’s bright but muted eyes slowly fall, as if they were a shooting star collapsing from the sky - lashes swooping low and kissing the tops of his cheeks - its eventual landing upon the earth. It’s been a year since the fourth shinobi war and he can’t quite find a rhythm outside of it. His legs seem to be infinitely restless; they don’t know how to stop running toward that one particular goal. It’s not as if he needs a goal to feel complete or, content, even; only, this one has seemed to leave him…vacant. His legs halt their movement upon the thought and a great big ping begins to resound throughout his chest; as if someone slammed a hammer into a big gong and it’s forever echoing within, bouncing off his interior and vibrating down into his bones. He didn’t think he’d have to face Sasuke leaving again. Naruto was naive, a fool. He thought because he succeeded in bringing him back, that meant he was okay; he felt peace and maybe even happiness. Naruto was too immature to understand the extent of that which Sasuke had to endure.
Not to mention what he must’ve experienced after leaving the Leaf all those years ago. Naruto’s teeth grit against each other. Anger bubbling up over the wading sadness.
Naruto himself doesn’t even know the depths of horror he must’ve endured - and that upsets him. It upsets him because he could see it permeating throughout Sasuke’s skin and dissolving within; saturated by the weight of what he had to see, do - become. Naruto recalls their time in the hospital with a blaring recollection; the way he would flinch whenever a nurse would go to touch him. The way it always had to be a woman who saw to his bandages and even then his teeth would be clenched. The way he avoided looking at himself, eyes always latching onto the trees that would stand outside the window with equal silence. Naruto could see those eyes fall more dull as each hour, day, week passed. Sasuke had always been quiet but there..it was a defeated type, like he was soul weary at having to have awoken and keep going past the point he had wholly and unregrettably determined to be his end. There was a sick sort of satisfaction that arose in Naruto at the sight; Sasuke had chosen to live for him.
Now that satisfaction sits bitter and tepid in his mouth. Always swallowing down its ever appearing solidity. Living, Naruto has come to understand , can often times be a fate far worse than death. Shame often laughs at him, the high pitch ringing within his ears to such a deafening degree, he sometimes feels the urge to cover them. Sasuke has lived a life chained to misery, forever locked within its cell, facing its ravenous, repetitive assault …and Naruto elongated that sentence. How can he feel relief over that? How can Naruto be happy that he’s subjected Sasuke to that cruel punishment? And yet, he is. It just sits like a rock in the pit of his stomach, is all.
Sometimes, Naruto will find himself waiting for something; he’ll wake in the morning with a sort of expectancy, he’ll go throughout the entire day with searching eyes only to reach nightfall, nothing but silence slowly pulling that blanket up. It’s a repetitive ache as each day drags by. Naruto does not blame Sasuke for leaving again - the moment he was released from prison, that is. Not even a goodbye. He doesn’t blame Sasuke for feeling things too deeply to the point that it makes him numb with apathy. He can see that, now. He can. Though, it doesn’t make it feel any better. Naruto’s always been a little selfish, he can admit that with honesty and he never necessarily felt bad for being so. He has a right to be. Which is why it’s easy to find fault in his dear friend and blame him for never once replying to any of his letters. They are returned every time, without fail. Unopened and bleeding vulnerability. Will Naruto forever be unwanted? Easily discarded and left? Perhaps Sasuke resents him. It wouldn’t be so far fetched of an assumption. He only wishes he could talk to him, just once. Apologize for how easy he made it all sound; apologize for not being there for him in a more intimate, emotional way. They were so young, Naruto so naive. Maybe if Sasuke were able to talk about it all openly, without holding back…he wouldn’t have felt the need to run again.
Naruto lets out a sigh, bringing his bandaged hand up to his forehead and rubbing at the pain beginning to branch throughout it. Thinking about him makes Naruto exhausted in a sad and pitiful way.
The air has a slight chill to it, running bony fingers along his neck, eliciting goosebumps, when suddenly, an odd stillness overtakes it - the hair on the back of Naruto’s neck stands and he feels Kurama awaken, keen to the shift that’s beginning to take shape. Naruto snaps his head up, sharpens his eyes and attunes his ears, heart slowing yet he remains very aware of every deep press of it against his chest. The wind begins to rage, wailing long forgotten and instead overtaken by a bitter and resenting scream - a feeling of familiarity scraping against his consciousness though he cannot place it. Maybe even refuses to.
Shutters begin to lift and slam against the houses, store signs thrash with ferocity, their metal chains echoing throughout the night; like scared children attempting to flee, when suddenly, a languid sway of orange and red begins to rise in the distance. As if it were unfolding its lumbrous limbs and planting them deep in the ground. Naruto stands, shock filling his demeanor as red reflects deep into his irises.
Kurama growls within, nervousness lining the rough tone when all of a sudden, the air stops howling, as if stowing itself away in anticipation of what’s to come; shutters slow their rapturous violence and trees hold their breath, the rustle of leaves falling silent as a sharp and powerful snap explodes throughout the sound barrier - as quick as a whip, as fast as a desperate intake of air.
Glass explodes outward and charred wood flies with gruesome intent, one aimed right at Naruto even from his distance away. He throws himself toward the roof, bending backward with agile flexibility. A hot wave of air shreds at his skin, pushing his air back and whispering a fiery, ash filled greeting. He feels the metal of his leaf headband grow hot and Windows break with the force, wind peering from its hiding point and returning with vengeance.
That’s when the screaming starts.
Loud and wet, landing with guttural gasps in the cold starless night. Naruto moves without thought, pushing himself up and jumping from roof to roof, running as the night hums with the inconsolable presence of death. His heart beats loud and fast in his ear, adrenaline and fear wrapping hands around him and squeezing. Faces and names run through his mind, attempting to ascertain the threat when he feels another’s presence running beside him.
“Naruto! What the fuck is happening?” Sakura shouts, voice shaking. Her hair flies back with the speed at which they move, eyes wide and uncertain. Naruto senses others behind him, panic hovering above them all. He glances back, spotting sai to his right, Shikimaru and the others following suit.
“I don’t know, Sakura,” he bites, adrenaline stealing his voice. He squints his eyes, trying to see where exactly the explosion stemmed from when Shikimaru speaks from behind,
“That’s the Shimura clan.”
Naruto’s eyebrows pull together, tight with confusion. Shikamaru reads his silence,
“Danzo’s clan.” Flat and full of intention.
Naruto feels a weird weight to the words but can’t think as to what it could possibly mean in this moment. He wonders what the dead man’s clan has done to draw such attention, unable to recall a single face connected to them.
As they come up on the clans compound, Naruto can see the rolling of flames with brighter clarity, they rage and throw themselves over every building in proximity, roaring with a seemingly human-like form of destruction, and as they near the clans entrance he’s immediately thrown back by the sheer force of heat that ripples off the compound; it takes shape, warping the air outlying it and distorting their vision. Voices yell in a frantic fervor from inside, though it looks to be a ghost town from beyond…desolate save the hungry flames that drown it out. More ninja gather around the entrance, eager to enter but smart enough to understand they have to be calculated in their approach.
“I hear them..but I don’t see them.” Sai blatantly observes.
“I have a bad feeling about this.” Ino steps closer to Sakura, unease wafting off her demeanor. “Why is no one running for the village?”
Karuma licks his chomps within and slams a paw down, wanting to take action.
“We have to figure out what’s happening first, Kurama.” Naruto stares up into his eyes, his mindscape void of all chaos. Kurama sniffs, lifting his lip in a snarl. “I don’t like it either, but it’s protocol.” Restraint seeps into Naruto’s words.
“There’s a scent coming from its heart,” the fox’s eyes slit with irritation. “I recognize it, though I cannot place it.” Naruto turns, looking outward through his own eyes, seeing nothing but a hungry fire.
“Maybe it’s one of the Shimura, I’m sure we’ve passed each other before.”
“No.” Forceful and solid.
“How are you so sure?” Naruto’s skin prickles.
“It’s…empty. Void of anything human.” Naruto swears he sees the nine tails shiver. “There’s something entwined around it, something…like the smell of death, only more ancient.”
A shiver runs down Naruto’s spine. He draws his eyebrows together, whispering, “Ancient? More ancient than death? What’s that even mean, Kurama?”
The fox never once takes his eyes from the falling compound and Naruto knows he will not receive an answer. It makes something sick turn in his stomach, like all the unease he’d been feeling for months on end has finally built up into one giant beast and now claws from within, demanding release. Naruto returns his attention outward just as Kakashi-sensei arrives, the Hokage cloak fanning from behind him as though his very own entourage. It ripples and sways even as he stills, the fires force only growing. The screams and cries never once abating. No clash of metal can be heard. No signature of Chakra - not even from the clan. It sets them all on edge. Something eerily close to fear tempting the so called Shinobi that litter the grounds.
Naruto runs toward his sensei, nerves pushing him faster. “Kakashi-sensei! What’s happening? What can we do!?” Frustration swelling.
Kakashi’s uncovered eye reflects the ruin, face forever unreadable. Tsunade stands beside him, fists clenched tightly, nearly shaking. “The Shimura clan? They’re basically passivists…why would they be targeted…”
“All Shinobi, go.” Kakashi commands with immovable authority. His voice immediately rising again, “We do not know what waits for us, move with discretion, need I not remind you, you are ninja.” With the last word spoken, he runs toward the screams, Naruto catches a brief shadow following him. Anbu, he thinks passively, turning to follow into the unforgiving blaze.
Within the compound, the orange and red flames reach for Naruto; hands clawing their way up from the depths of Sheol and drooling for a new soul to take.
He uses his wind jutsu to keep them at bay and though they retreat, they never once flicker out. Instead, they seem to grow hungrier, more desperate in their need to draw close. He shakes his head and continues to run, reforming the hand seals with desperate determination to make it work.
“Ino and I will search for survivors, Hinata, follow us and use your vision to locate any movement.” Sakura shouts as they run through the streets that flicker as if they were alive. The girls nod once, parting off from the group as the road splits.
Naruto turns to sai and shouts over the crackling of debris, “Draw your ink clones for intel, have them report if they find the one responsible.” He turns mid relay, tuning out Sai’s reply but hearing him run off to a place he can concentrate his chakra, and begins forming.
“wind style jutsu!” he shouts, releasing a swell of air against the crumbling homes, greater than any previous. He watches it settle, sure it took hold, only for him to falter.
“My wind has no effect on it!” He shouts toward Kakashi who’s in the midst of releasing a water vortex over a salvageable shop, learnt by his left eye and executed perfectly. The water disperses, revealing the flames still raging over the now departing structure, looking only slightly smaller.
“Fuck. Ok, forget the fire, find the clan and take them to safety, that’s an order!” Kakashi’s order stops the surrounding shinobi at their futile attempts and shikamaru runs to fall beside Naruto, who parts ways with his sensei.
Black soot covers parts of Shikimaru’s face, breath coming out ragged and short. They run through multiple buildings, facing the heat without a lick of trepidation, for the screams rise in tempo, wailing. It sets Naruto’s blood ablaze.
He does every seal he can conjure to tame it, yet it all falls short, for there’s not a single trace of life to be found. Not a single flame to be extinguished. Naruto feels as if they’re running through a labyrinth, he hears the cries, the sobs for help but every time they get closer, they seem to disappear from his reach. He opens a door that he’s positive has a child crying behind it and yet it stands empty, not a single soul. He growls, lifting his leg and kicking the door back into the wall which only causes a beam to fall, sending sparks flying. He cannot tell if minutes or hours have passed, days, even. His head spins and sweat pours off him in bucket fulls. The heat flushes his cheeks, painting them a bright red and igniting the wild glint in his eye.
“Something fucking weird is happening here, it’s such a fucking drag.” Shikimaru falls in step beside him as they run towards the heart of the compound, agitation pushing them onward. Just when Naruto opens his mouth to reply, he halts to a frightened stop. He can physically feel his heart swelling with utter distress. Beside him, Shikimaru sharply inhales, as if he were swallowing down bile.
He only just now realizes the screaming had stopped at some point. The popping of fire and heavy sweeps of air all that remains. For, In the heart of the village, stands a towering hanamizuki; its flowers, which bloom a bright and vibrant white, are coated in a dark scarlet hue, dripping with every beat of Naruto’s heart. Its branches hang heavy with the weight of blood and scattered around its form, lies the massacred bodies of the entire Shimura clan. Woman and children; mothers and sons and daughters and fathers and husbands, they lie drowning in their own lake of blood.
He hears Shikimaru fall to his knees with a hard thud. He listens to the guttural retching of his stomach acid. Naruto takes a step forward. Kurama growls in warning. A lone sob rises through the rushing of his blood and he whips his head to the side, finding the three girls on their knees, heads bowed and shoulders shaking.
He only just noticed the others, covered in soot and ragged. Kakashi-sensei stands behind the three, protecting them despite the horrors that tempt one to madness. His face set hard and sharingan ready. Sakura leans against his legs, weeping. Sai, with his hand on Ino’s shoulder and looking stone faced before him, unflinching. Hinata curls in on herself and he notices Kiba with eyebrows drawn, standing in front of her as if it were possible to hide all the blood. Naruto looks away; unable to see his friends look so torn so soon after war. Tsunade-Sama appears pale as she kneels at the edge of the red liquid, looking out over the bodies with a sick hope of finding someone in need of healing. The hope does not exist - there’s barely a recognizable limb to be found.
He feels his eyebrows pull together, he was positive there had been screaming only moments ago…he turns the thought over in his mouth, tasteless but bordering on a familiar sort of sense. He’s Oblivious to the shinobi that begin surrounding the wretched scene, screams and gasps leaving their terrified lips, Naruto barely has time to even process what’s taken place, when a sudden flash hits the center of the compound, right above the condemned tree.
A space-time rift slowly opens its wide maw, nothing but darkness echoing from its mouth. Naruto can feel the held breath of every shinobi among the ground. He can feel Kurama staring with rapt attention, waiting. His own blood seems to have turned cold, that premonition of dread thrashing with unrest once again, clawing at him. The word “ancient” echos in his ears. More ancient than death. That’s what Kurama had said. His fist tightens, he sets his feet wide and pulls at his patience. Him and everyone around expecting with dread pulling taut, kaguya to walk through.
The fire burns relentlessly around them as it hisses and sputters. It looks as if it bows low before the dark slash marring the sky when a singular foot steps across it, followed by another; black boots with wraps crisscrossing up unto black clad knees, hakama pants and a black, sleeveless shirt. An equally dark cloak wraps around a slender neck and glides behind the man lifted high only to fall back into place the moment he’s fully through the rift. A blood drenched katana rests comfortably in each hand, spread beside him as if in preparation. His forearms glint under moonlight as it catches upon ebony arm plates and the upper half of his face hides behind a raven mask, forged with a grayish steel.
This is not Kaguya…and, Naruto finds himself wishing it were.
For something in him wavers upon the sight. The man levitates before them, silent and dark eyed. He feels his legs go weak, unable to clearly make out the two other figures that emerge and place themselves on each side of the masked man, back a singular step as though in submission to a leader.
Naruto’s vision blurs. He feels something wet drip down his face. He feels his feet moving, the voice of Shikimaru weakly attempting to stop him being drowned beneath the loud static ringing in his ears. He feels his legs meet refusal as they work to push through a heavy, sticky substance. The warmth of it seeping through to his skin. His eyes never once leave the figure before him. He watches the man slowly lower himself as an arm pulls back and releases a sword in one clean release. Naruto doesn’t even flinch when it lands a few feet in front of him, blade thrown deep into the earth and blood splattering up with the force, dotting his face. He feels it drip down and intermingle with the wetness already upon it.
The man’s foot presses down on the handle of his sword, resting his weight and watching with a familiar, predatory stillness. The word ‘Angel’ flashes through his mind, the Angel of death - beautiful and terrifying. Naruto reaches him, mere inches away and it finally settles; the despair, that is.
“Sasuke,” he chokes on the name.
“Naruto.” Cold and empty. A blank sheet of ice digging into Naruto’s chest. That unmistakable voice.
A roar erupts from behind Naruto. Violent screams and threats thrown with the sort of hatred reserved only for the Uchiha name.
“Uchiha! You accursed blot of fucking darkness!”
“We should have killed him when he first betrayed the Leaf!”
“This is what happens when you let feelings influence a shinobi - they always fail at executing a fucking demon!”
“Itachi should have slaughtered this one, too.”
The voices rise and fall with spitting vigor. Curses thrown and death promised in horrific ways that causes Naruto to fall to his knees, a wet slap. He looks up at Sasuke with tear filled eyes. They hold each other’s gaze as the shouts ring out, forever entrenching this singular night with woe. Naruto feels the cold hand of fate slide down his face, caressing him with a softness contradicting that of her actions; as if she were apologizing.
He searches the obsidian eyes before him with something akin to thirst - seeking any sign of hesitation. He finds nothing. Sasuke is cold; an emptiness far surpassing the darkness that Naruto had found him in the last time he stood against him. At least then there was a flicker of revenge, a will forged in hatred and steeped in vengeance. Naruto sees none of that, now. Only an empty husk. He shakes his head, refusing to believe it. He must be in a nightmare, that’s it. He’s asleep and this is all a dream, a sick fucking dream.
“Sasuke.” Kakashi is suddenly standing beside Naruto’s kneeling form, looking up at his former student. “Was it you?” Disbelief rings out. Sasuke’s eyes slither toward Kakashi, slow and intense, appearing irritated by the interruption
“Before, I had been lost - confused and alone; slowly losing sight of my promise to avenge my brother, Itachi,” steady and sharp. “avenge his suffering and unjust death catapulted by the actions of this village - the clans that met with the intent to destroy his life and in result, the life of all those associated. I have now removed the film from my eye, and I come to fulfill that promise. ” He steps from his place upon his Katana, feet dipping low into the wet surface without a sound.
“You sit on the Hokage throne, you let yourself be puppeteered by the rotten elders of this gods-forsaken community with full knowledge of what they’ve done; the depths of their evil and the naive passivity in knowing it will be done again,” he pulls his Katana from the ground, throwing it out in an act of removing the blood from its body before aiming it directly at Kakashi’s heart as he takes lethal, soundless steps toward the man he once eagerly called sensei. “And still, you care not.” A damning whisper. Voice thick with vehemence.
“My first retribution, my first act of filling the dark crack etched into this lifetime, etched into my soul - the hate that consumes my being and eats away at every nerve ending - has been successfully completed.” He spreads his arms wide. “For the demise of the Shimura clan marks the beginning of my purifications; I will cleanse this place of the sin that dwells and remind the remaining shinobi what happens when you believe yourself a god, toying with the lives around you as if entitled to the eradications fulfilled upon ego and pride.” He chuckles humorlessly, retracting his weapons and sheathing them on his back, walking to stand between his two followers whom both wear masks, silver and bird like. They eye the surrounding shinobi with ease, as if being outnumbered by at least a hundred meant nothing.
Sasuke’s voice raises, his eyes remaining level with Kakashi’s. “I have come,” Naruto leans his forehead down, nearly pressing it to the blood of those murdered, slain, on this night. He sees his tormented reflection, eyes wide and unbelieving even still.
Blood of the children that once ran across this very center, laid under this very tree sharing stories and snacks - being yelled at by their mothers for spoiling their dinner. “to declare war.” Naruto’s eyes fall closed. He swears he hears Sakura from somewhere behind him, release a gasping sob.
This is not a dream.
Chest heaving and anger taking hold, Naruto propels himself from the ground, the nine tails chakra emanating from his skin as he advances on Sasuke. Eyes red and alive. Sasuke lifts an arm, the one that was missing, the last time Naruto had seen him, and signs toward his men to stand down as he remains in place, letting Naruto wrap a large, rough hand around his seemingly fragile neck.
“Sasuke,” a gutted rasp. Almost nose to nose, “you stand against Konoha, you stand against me.” His eyes soften momentarily, something like a plea. “Don’t do this again.” His grip loosens, something like a caress. “Tell me what happened! let me help you, you can talk to me I’ll listen I promise I’ll help you.” It’s desperate and pathetic. Naruto doesn’t care, he’s laid down his pride numerous times for the man before him and he’ll gladly do it a thousand more if it meant he were to remain by his side. For, there’s something eerily sacred in the act of begging; as if cutting out your own organs and offering them up on a platter to be righteously judged; deemed worthy or unworthy.
He leans in as if he’s going to press his forehead against Sasuke’s while bringing a second hand up, overlapping it onto his other still holding with aching fingers, whispering low so only he can hear. “I told you, I’ll bear the burden of your hatred. I’ll do better with it, I’ll carry the entirety of it if you just give it to me.” He leans in, thumbs pressing into the indent within Sasuke’s throat. “I’ll carry you too, if you need.” His voice cracks. “I’m strong enough, I can be strong for the both of us.”
Sasuke leans in, fully pressing his forehead against Naruto’s. The edge of the cold mask digs into his eyebrows. His heart skips, pauses. Nothing wades within those eyes of his. A gloved hand rests against the back of Naruto’s head, pushing him harder into the man before him with painful force. He cannot help but focus on how cold it is, it trembles even, so minutely one would never know if they were not Naruto. It feels completely frozen against his skull even despite the glove, despite the summer warmth. A low and steady cadence, shattering his hope to pieces.
“You’re a fool.” A whisper. He feels Sasuke’s fingers dig into his scalp. A burn intermingled with ice slices through his stomach. He’s lifted to his toes with a deep pressure, falling into it with a strange sort of weakness. Naruto looks wide eyed at Sasuke, right into those depthless eyes that are devoid of anything remotely human. He sputters, coughing blood. It splatters upon Sasuke’s face, he does not flinch.
Naruto’s features twist, something so wretched shouldn’t mar that pale and pristine skin, lifting a hand to swipe it off. His thumb brushes against Sasuke’s lips, vision blurry and limbs not quite obeying. Sasuke pushes him back and Naruto stumbles into Kakashi’s arms. He’s yelling orders, demanding they fight.
Naruto gargles, “No,” he looks down, blood pouring through a jagged slash spanning from belly button to chest. “Do-“ he grits his teeth, squints his eyes to make out the man before him. The figure holds a dripping kunai, glinting and teethed. His throat feels full and his clothes grow heavy with blood, it’s hot and itchy.
“Don’t hurt him.” A low groan. He watches as Shinobi raise their hands to fight. Weapons bright beneath the moonlight that begins to fade behind dark clouds. He tries to stand, tries to run forward but Kakashi won’t let him. He thinks he hears Sakura, she’s speaking to him through sobs, small hands pulling open his shirt and pressing against his torn stomach.
“Kurama,” he coughs, blood spilling from between his teeth and running down his chin. “Will heal me, let me go.” He’s held down and ignored as hands, tsunade’s, he thinks, grab his face, demanding it to the side. She yells something he cannot hear though she looks undone and scared. His vision grows black spots and he tries to shake them away, fighting to tear that blanket from his body, the one that’s so insistent upon burying him in the darkness. He’s aware of being dragged backwards, hands beneath his shoulders and blood swishing beneath his body.
He squints his eyes, demanding they focus. Only, a feeling of regret takes hold as he beholds a large shadow span from the figure lifted high in the sky - a dark entity of death and ruin; the black and serrated wings spread wide and dismaying. They’re not quite solid, appearing to be an apparition, smoke-like and hazy. Naruto feels as if he awoke to a nightmare. The blood loss making him hallucinate. Except, he sees the way those on the ground look up with fear filled eyes - hands shaking and weapons falling to the earth with a loud clanging.
“Sasuke!” Sakura laments from her place beside Naruto, her hand clutching at his arm and nails no doubt breaking skin. He feels her forehead fall against his bicep, refusing to look at the man she loves. She’s mumbling into his arm, denying the truth.
“What’s he done, what’s he done, Naruto,” she repeats over and over and over. Naruto’s going to go insane hearing it. He can’t stand it. A sob like cough leaves his mouth and sends more blood flying. He doesn’t even blink as he sees Sasuke lift his arms above his head, hands forming seals Naruto’s never before seen when he rapidly throws his arms outward and with the action, flying from his palm a dark, gaping shadow that stretches wide, overtaking the entire sky and shooting down toward the ground. Shinobi try to run and find they can’t as a dark tendril of shadow holds each leg in place, rising from the ground and wrapping around trembling limbs.
He hears them begin to scream as if a fear, unfounded on the basis of reality, is taking hold of them. They sound utterly terrified. Naruto turns his head, realizing they’ve all fallen to the ground, writhing. He blinks, Sakura coming into focus, she too held by those shadows that seem to inflict horror upon its victim. He looks down at himself, free of the hold possessing each and every one of them - Kakashi-sensei, too, screams with abject terror.
Naruto’s eyes grow heavy, blood roaring in his ears and an exhaustion unknown to him. He can make out from a small, closing pocket of moonlight, a time-ripple. He watches Sasuke step through it, steady and certain.
He’s always so fucking certain.
Naruto lifts his hand, reaching.
Sasuke does not look back. Not once.
The dark finally pulls that blanket over Naruto’s face with the company of shrieking.