[Naruto] No Evil (PG-13, 1613 words)
Title: No Evil
Fandom: Naruto
Rating: PG-13 for mentions of death?
Character: Naruto (boy deserves love!)
Words: 1613
Spoilers: Written for the challenges at pavlovs_cats. No spoilers unless you don't know about Kyuubi. >___>;; But then, that was in the first episode...
Sometimes in his dreams, Naruto would see glimpses of brilliant fires in the night. He would be able to see the flames that roared through a forest to spread its conflagration, and the dots of reddish yellow that could be seen from the night sky, all-encompassing in its power and grace. He could see from his vantage point the fallen trees, the splashes of mud covering people and animals as they ran away in terror on the recently rain drenched grounds. There was the movement of bodies and living beings as they scattered in many different directions, some trying to avoid the fires, others trying to avoid the falling timber and attempt to flee the path of dangerous animals that would stampede over them without a second thought.
All of them, though, were attempting to avoid him at all costs.
And just as he could see all of what as going on, he could smell the warmth of the dying wood and the burning flesh that surrounded him. He would be able to smell the freshness of the night, the scent of impeding rain in the air, the moisture that is dried out by the fires around him. There was the smell of the forest, of mud and animals and pine. He could almost taste the green needles of the evergreen trees as they burned. He could almost see the bark curling from the trees in a vain attempt to protect itself.
He could feel the flames licking at him, harmful if not for the fact that he was immune to fire. There was the cool night wind brushing against his face, almost enough to make his eyes water. There was the heat and the feel of total control; of dominance over anything and everything that could be thrown at him.
He would show them the reason why he was feared. He would prove to everyone else that he was better than them, that he was immortal and great and superior to their flimsy mortal flesh.
The dream was silent, though. There were no sounds as the trees were felled, as the fire roared its way through the lands, as the animals cried out and collapsed. Even as the people who were trapped in his way opened their mouths to scream, no sounds came.
***
In another of his dreams, Naruto could hear perfectly fine. He would once again find the events of the dream beyond his control, and find himself encased in warm blankets, wrapped tight enough to prevent him from moving much. He would feel warm, warm and soothed for a moment before that warmth was taken away from him. After that, there was a cacophony of sounds and activity around him.
But what activity? For all that he had control of his own limbs and thoughts now, he could not force his eyes open to see what was going on. But he could hear, and he could smell (oh, could his other senses work. They worked so well he was overwhelmed for quite a while) and he could feel the shifting of air as people rushed about him.
And he cried out as he was jostled, as someone else entered the room he was in, as he was taken away from where he had been settled originally. There was a new presence, a powerful presence, but a presence as soothing and loving as the one that he had been with before.
There were murmurs of voices around him, and the arms that had been holding him tightened for a moment as news was delivered, and he squirmed, not liking the pressure against his sensitive skin.
And there would be a warm finger tracing over his brow, a warm breath over his face that ruffled his hair, and Naruto would scrunch up his nose and try to turn away. The sound of chuckling filled his ears, and then those arms tucked the soft blankets more securely around him. Naruto found at that point that the blankets weren’t as unpleasant has he had first deigned them to be, and that it was just too tiring to stay peeved for long about the conditions of the world.
But sleep was elusive even in his dreams, as when he had finally settled down to rest, he could feel a joust and soon the night air was blowing against his face, upsetting him greatly. It was too cold, the air was too harsh and sharp, and it almost felt like knives against his eyelids. The arms that surrounded him were tight no matter how hard he struggled against them, wearing himself out just by that little activity.
He couldn’t see anything, though. The world was dark, but he was already too overwhelmed by his other senses to care.
It was all too soon that the foreign sounds of crackling trees and people screaming reached his years, making him cry out as his sensitive ears were assaulted. But more than that, he could smell so much he had never smelled before. Burning wood, and mud, and rain, and the smell of pain and blood and death rising to meet him.
But the person holding him made a soothing sound, trying to calm him down. There was warm fingers tracing his cheek, over his eyes, and combing through his hair. The touch was reverent, was gentle enough that he barely felt it all, but it was a touch that was craved.
And despite the fact that he shouldn’t have been able to understand, shouldn’t have been able to make out the words in all the background noise, he dreams of the person saying to him over and over, I’m sorry, so so sorry, Naruto…
There were murmurs against his skin, nonsense words, almost. Things like, do your best and live to the fullest and please forgive me and the ever present sorry, sorry, sorry…
And then the fire caught his senses and he screamed as the pain hit.
***
Sometimes, Naruto’s dreams weren’t so much dreams as they were memories. Memories of when he was small, small enough to not have to go to the Academy yet. Small enough that he still had that lady nanny who came over once a week and asked him how he was doing. Dreams of when he was too small to reach the kitchen shelves without having to go three steps up a ladder.
But even at that age, he hadn’t been too small to understand avoidance. He was all too familiar with it already, and at that young age, Naruto had learned not to speak out against people. Even at that young age, Naruto would talk and talk and talk of words and nonsense things. He would ask questions like ‘why is the sky blue?’ or ‘why is Hokage-jiichan always so busy?’. Things that made others frown and tell him to shut up already.
But there were other things he had really wanted to know at that age as well.
‘What does monster mean? What’s a demon? Why do people call me that?’
But those were the questions that Naruto didn’t ask, even if he wasn’t too sure about the answers. He had a pretty good idea even at such a young age, after all. He didn’t have to be older or bigger to see parents on the streets yank their children away to tell them to stay away from him, the monster child.
So Naruto does not ask anything about that, and he does not mention it to Hokage-jiichan when the old man visits, asking him in a voice warmer than those of the villagers if he’s doing well. He had already learned to grin and do his best to ignore those who ignore him.
If he feels like crying, he would not allow anything else to see it. He does not ask for his parents because even at such a young age he already knows that they are not there. He does not ask for comfort because he already knows that he would not receive it.
So when someone actually decides to talk to him, Naruto bites back the bitterness and smiles instead, hoping not to scare that person away as well. He didn’t have to speak of such pain, after all. He didn’t want to. It wasn’t as if anyone wanted to know.
***
And when Naruto wakes from those dreams, he remembers nothing. Occasionally there is the scent of smoke in his nose, and a phantom voice saying sorry, sorry distantly, and frequently there is a ball of unbearable loneliness in his chest that threatens to still his lungs.
But he paid those no mind as he stretches in the morning, reaching to check his clock before yelping when he sees that he has overslept the alarm again, and that he is very nearly late.
He would fall out of bed, rush to change to prepare a cup of ramen as breakfast, gathering his weapons pouch and zipping up his bright orange jacket at the same time, rushing about his apartment to find his hitae-ate before he hears pounding on his door.
And when he opens the door, Sakura and Sasuke would be there, the girl looking annoyed and yelling at him to hurry up, and the boy scowling, with hands in his pockets as he called Naruto moron and dead last, but Naruto would grin because they were there. No matter what words they uttered, they still were there in the mornings, worried for him and his lateness, which, Sakura would comment, would start rivalling Kakashi-sensei’s soon.
And Naruto would rush out of his apartment with his team-mates, and start his day without his dreams haunting his steps.
Fandom: Naruto
Rating: PG-13 for mentions of death?
Character: Naruto (boy deserves love!)
Words: 1613
Spoilers: Written for the challenges at pavlovs_cats. No spoilers unless you don't know about Kyuubi. >___>;; But then, that was in the first episode...
Sometimes in his dreams, Naruto would see glimpses of brilliant fires in the night. He would be able to see the flames that roared through a forest to spread its conflagration, and the dots of reddish yellow that could be seen from the night sky, all-encompassing in its power and grace. He could see from his vantage point the fallen trees, the splashes of mud covering people and animals as they ran away in terror on the recently rain drenched grounds. There was the movement of bodies and living beings as they scattered in many different directions, some trying to avoid the fires, others trying to avoid the falling timber and attempt to flee the path of dangerous animals that would stampede over them without a second thought.
All of them, though, were attempting to avoid him at all costs.
And just as he could see all of what as going on, he could smell the warmth of the dying wood and the burning flesh that surrounded him. He would be able to smell the freshness of the night, the scent of impeding rain in the air, the moisture that is dried out by the fires around him. There was the smell of the forest, of mud and animals and pine. He could almost taste the green needles of the evergreen trees as they burned. He could almost see the bark curling from the trees in a vain attempt to protect itself.
He could feel the flames licking at him, harmful if not for the fact that he was immune to fire. There was the cool night wind brushing against his face, almost enough to make his eyes water. There was the heat and the feel of total control; of dominance over anything and everything that could be thrown at him.
He would show them the reason why he was feared. He would prove to everyone else that he was better than them, that he was immortal and great and superior to their flimsy mortal flesh.
The dream was silent, though. There were no sounds as the trees were felled, as the fire roared its way through the lands, as the animals cried out and collapsed. Even as the people who were trapped in his way opened their mouths to scream, no sounds came.
***
In another of his dreams, Naruto could hear perfectly fine. He would once again find the events of the dream beyond his control, and find himself encased in warm blankets, wrapped tight enough to prevent him from moving much. He would feel warm, warm and soothed for a moment before that warmth was taken away from him. After that, there was a cacophony of sounds and activity around him.
But what activity? For all that he had control of his own limbs and thoughts now, he could not force his eyes open to see what was going on. But he could hear, and he could smell (oh, could his other senses work. They worked so well he was overwhelmed for quite a while) and he could feel the shifting of air as people rushed about him.
And he cried out as he was jostled, as someone else entered the room he was in, as he was taken away from where he had been settled originally. There was a new presence, a powerful presence, but a presence as soothing and loving as the one that he had been with before.
There were murmurs of voices around him, and the arms that had been holding him tightened for a moment as news was delivered, and he squirmed, not liking the pressure against his sensitive skin.
And there would be a warm finger tracing over his brow, a warm breath over his face that ruffled his hair, and Naruto would scrunch up his nose and try to turn away. The sound of chuckling filled his ears, and then those arms tucked the soft blankets more securely around him. Naruto found at that point that the blankets weren’t as unpleasant has he had first deigned them to be, and that it was just too tiring to stay peeved for long about the conditions of the world.
But sleep was elusive even in his dreams, as when he had finally settled down to rest, he could feel a joust and soon the night air was blowing against his face, upsetting him greatly. It was too cold, the air was too harsh and sharp, and it almost felt like knives against his eyelids. The arms that surrounded him were tight no matter how hard he struggled against them, wearing himself out just by that little activity.
He couldn’t see anything, though. The world was dark, but he was already too overwhelmed by his other senses to care.
It was all too soon that the foreign sounds of crackling trees and people screaming reached his years, making him cry out as his sensitive ears were assaulted. But more than that, he could smell so much he had never smelled before. Burning wood, and mud, and rain, and the smell of pain and blood and death rising to meet him.
But the person holding him made a soothing sound, trying to calm him down. There was warm fingers tracing his cheek, over his eyes, and combing through his hair. The touch was reverent, was gentle enough that he barely felt it all, but it was a touch that was craved.
And despite the fact that he shouldn’t have been able to understand, shouldn’t have been able to make out the words in all the background noise, he dreams of the person saying to him over and over, I’m sorry, so so sorry, Naruto…
There were murmurs against his skin, nonsense words, almost. Things like, do your best and live to the fullest and please forgive me and the ever present sorry, sorry, sorry…
And then the fire caught his senses and he screamed as the pain hit.
***
Sometimes, Naruto’s dreams weren’t so much dreams as they were memories. Memories of when he was small, small enough to not have to go to the Academy yet. Small enough that he still had that lady nanny who came over once a week and asked him how he was doing. Dreams of when he was too small to reach the kitchen shelves without having to go three steps up a ladder.
But even at that age, he hadn’t been too small to understand avoidance. He was all too familiar with it already, and at that young age, Naruto had learned not to speak out against people. Even at that young age, Naruto would talk and talk and talk of words and nonsense things. He would ask questions like ‘why is the sky blue?’ or ‘why is Hokage-jiichan always so busy?’. Things that made others frown and tell him to shut up already.
But there were other things he had really wanted to know at that age as well.
‘What does monster mean? What’s a demon? Why do people call me that?’
But those were the questions that Naruto didn’t ask, even if he wasn’t too sure about the answers. He had a pretty good idea even at such a young age, after all. He didn’t have to be older or bigger to see parents on the streets yank their children away to tell them to stay away from him, the monster child.
So Naruto does not ask anything about that, and he does not mention it to Hokage-jiichan when the old man visits, asking him in a voice warmer than those of the villagers if he’s doing well. He had already learned to grin and do his best to ignore those who ignore him.
If he feels like crying, he would not allow anything else to see it. He does not ask for his parents because even at such a young age he already knows that they are not there. He does not ask for comfort because he already knows that he would not receive it.
So when someone actually decides to talk to him, Naruto bites back the bitterness and smiles instead, hoping not to scare that person away as well. He didn’t have to speak of such pain, after all. He didn’t want to. It wasn’t as if anyone wanted to know.
***
And when Naruto wakes from those dreams, he remembers nothing. Occasionally there is the scent of smoke in his nose, and a phantom voice saying sorry, sorry distantly, and frequently there is a ball of unbearable loneliness in his chest that threatens to still his lungs.
But he paid those no mind as he stretches in the morning, reaching to check his clock before yelping when he sees that he has overslept the alarm again, and that he is very nearly late.
He would fall out of bed, rush to change to prepare a cup of ramen as breakfast, gathering his weapons pouch and zipping up his bright orange jacket at the same time, rushing about his apartment to find his hitae-ate before he hears pounding on his door.
And when he opens the door, Sakura and Sasuke would be there, the girl looking annoyed and yelling at him to hurry up, and the boy scowling, with hands in his pockets as he called Naruto moron and dead last, but Naruto would grin because they were there. No matter what words they uttered, they still were there in the mornings, worried for him and his lateness, which, Sakura would comment, would start rivalling Kakashi-sensei’s soon.
And Naruto would rush out of his apartment with his team-mates, and start his day without his dreams haunting his steps.