Dune
The banners snapped back and forth, back and forth, long trails of red. The sharp noise of wind colliding with cloth was soothing to Naruto's ears, almost comforting in a way. He felt less alone.
He stood atop one of the many buildings left in Suna - refined structures of sand and chakra that, even now, stood the test of time. The banners had been infused too with chakra and a special material of shinobi making that helped to protect it from all things. The wind cut over the empty buildings and rode on out undamaged.
Konoha, Naruto had no doubt, was fallen. A city built of wood and little else would not last long against nature and age. He touched his chest, where for years Konohamaru's long scarf used to hang, until it too wore away.
His neck felt cold and empty without it, so he pulled down one of Suna's banners from atop their torrents and wrapped it around his face. He breathed deeply in the telling scent of heat and his own sweat. The burn of flying sand left no other smells.
Heat. It breed and feed and swelled in capacity against the second sun, the reflective heat of dunes rising up from his feet.
Naruto barely remembered the ocean. The only sea he had left now, was a sea of sand, stretching off father than the eye could ever reach.
The banner was heavy around his shoulders, but he bore the weight. It reminded him almost of Inari and Konhamaru, eaching hanging in their own way on his back. And memories were all the comforts of companionship he had here, in this empty city centuries since long abandoned.
The world had grown old without him. And Naruto, as human as he was and wasn't, let it be. He had no use for it.
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Only the beginning.
This is a test.