Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Of Life and Love ❯ Of Life and Love ( Chapter 1 )

AN: Here’s a oneshot that’s been stuck in my head for a few days now. It’s my first real attempt at anything remotely romantic, and I decided to use it as an experiment in first person point of view.

Enjoy.

Warnings: Slight violence, character death.

Standard Disclaimer: Sugarpony does not own Naruto. It belongs to the brilliant Kishimoto-sensei.

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“You’re here; that’s all I need to know.
And you will keep me safe,
And you will keep me close.
And rain will make the flowers grow.”

-Eponine, “A Little Fall of Rain,” Les Miserables

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Of Life and Love

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While it is true that heaven is beautiful beyond words, it is also decidedly lonely. In my time here I have come across one or two of my acquaintances from when I was alive, and I have seen several ninja which I am certain I remember frequenting the streets of Konoha, but I have yet to meet anyone I truly know, not even my mother. Still, this hardly comes as a surprise to me.

Heaven is an awfully big place, after all.

Despite this, I have met many interesting people and learned much. And even through a part of me wishes to explore this wonderful world, I find myself returning every day to the looking glass through which I can watch over and protect the living. Even though the dead are normally not able to interact with those on Earth, the looking glass allows the spirit of a soul to influence the living realm. As Naruto-kun would say, I must protect my precious people.

And so I find myself once again at the place where the realms are, in essence, one. But today, I am not alone. A young girl, physically about fourteen, is standing at the holy artifact. She is wearing a pale blue kimono, and her dark hair is tied in a fanciful knot. She must be a recent arrival, because she is gazing at her own funeral. Her deep brown eyes are focused on a young nobleman who is deep in mourning, beyond the point of tears. “Kei-kun,” she sighs, wistfully, and I realize that the two had been and are still in love.

I smile sadly and approach the glass, coming to rest beside the girl. She notices my arrival but does not turn. We stand together, watching as her beloved Kei-kun stands by her grave throughout the procession of the ceremony and long after it had ended. He finally leaves several hours later as it grows dark, and the girl stares at where he had stood. A few minutes more pass in silence until, not tearing her gaze away, she finally speaks.

“I was sick ever since I was young,” she tells me, “but he didn’t care. We had known each other all our lives, and we were very much in love. My illness started to get worse when I turned thirteen, and I tried to distance myself from him. I told him that he deserved better, someone who could take care of him and be with him for as long as he was alive, but he refused to leave me. ‘I love you,’ he told me, ‘and even if it is only for a single year, I want you to live the rest of your life as my wife.’

“And so we were married. But it wasn’t long before I took a turn for the worse, and soon I could not even speak. And then...” She pauses as a single tear finds its way down her cheek. “...I died.”

She begins to cry tears of pain and sadness and longing, and I stand by side, providing what little comfort I could. Finally her tears subside, and at last she turns and gives me a watery smile. “Today is our anniversary.” We stand facing each other in the companionship of the dead, neither needing to speak to know that the other understood her own pain all too well. “Watashi wa Fujiwara no Tsubame,” she introduces, politely bowing to me.

“Ichiraku Ayame,” I reply, bowing in return. “Yorishiku.”

She gestures to the looking glass and I step forward, the view changing to one of Konoha. It does not show my family’s ramen shop as it did my first few months here, for I know that my father is doing well in my absence. Instead it focuses on a nearly empty field, a large obsidian stone, and a lone shinobi.

“Did you love him?” Tsubame-chan asks me, and there is no hesitation in my answer.

“I still do.”

“And did he love you?”

To this I am unsure how to respond. I know what I knew in life, and I know what I have learned in death. I know what I would like to believe, but...

“I am not sure.”

We stand in silence once more, as still as the shinobi before the stone, and I am unaware of the passage of time. Tsubame-chan asks another question, slowly this time, uncertain if it is one I will answer.

“How did you die, Ayame-san?”

I turn to her and smile a smile that is full of happiness, sadness, hope, longing, and wisdom.

“I fell in love with a shinobi.”

---

I smile fondly at Naruto-kun as I serve him and his team at my family’s business, Ichiraku
Ramen. He has managed to bring his ever-elusive Kakashi-sensei with them today, and has probably also convinced his to pay for all of his students’ food. I feel a bit sorry for the man. His wallet will take quite some time to recover from Naruto-kun’s monstrous appetite.

Naruto-kun and his teammates turn to greet more of their friends, and in the seconds they are not looking, Kakashi-san pulls down his mask and quickly devours his meal. My heart skips a beat, and I can feel a blush rising to my cheeks. Never before have I seen such a handsome face! Oh, Kakashi-san, why must wear a mask and deprive me of such a beautiful sight!

All too soon the cloth is once again in place, and he rises to leave as his students voice their discontent at having missed their opportunity to see what lies behind the mask. I can barely think straight the rest of the evening, and his face rises to front of my mind as I lie in bed, the ability to sleep stripped from me by the anticipation of Kakashi-san’s next visit to Ichiraku’s...

...Shinobi, when they are in mourning, have the tendency to deprive themselves of meals. Now, as the entire village feels the betrayal of the last Uchiha, I cannot help but worry for Kakashi-san’s health. I have heard tell, through the gossip of the jounin and ANBU who frequent our shop, that Kakashi-san is the last of his own clan, the Hatake, and that his teammates and jounin-sensei were all killed in battle. So while Naruto-kun has his Sakura-chan, Jiraiya-sama, and Tsunade-sama to turn to, Kakashi-san has no one. I make a hasty decision and, telling Father that I am taking a break, quickly prepare a miso ramen take-out and leave in search of Kakashi-san.

It has started to rain, and I am about to give up and return to the shop when I find him. He is standing alone in front of the Memorial Stone, seemingly oblivious to the sudden shower. In his visible eye is one of the most forlorn, self-loathing expressions I have ever seen. I stand at the edge of the field, reluctant to disturb him.

And then he begins to speak.

“Forgive me, Obito,” he says. Who is Obito, I wonder? One of his fallen teammates, perhaps? “I tried my best to help Sasuke, but I failed. Your entire clan has now gone from Konoha forever. You were wrong in giving me this eye of yours.” An Uchiha, then. The one from whom Kakashi-san had procured his famed sharingan.

I watch him silently as he continues on in a monologue of self-derision until I can no longer stand it. At last I tighten my hold on the warm ramen and march to stand beside the lone shinobi. He is unsurprised, and his gaze does not leave the stone as he addresses me.

“I was wondering how long you were going to stand there,” he tells me. “Did you need something, Ayame-san?”

Wordlessly, I hold out the ramen for him. He does not take it. “I wanted to make sure that you had something to eat today, Kakashi-san,” I say sternly. “You did all you could, and even if you failed your mission, you still need food just like every one else. If nothing else, use it to get strong and turn the mission into a success.”

Kakashi-san turns that awful stare to me for several moments. “Yes,” he said at last, “I suppose you are right.” He takes the ramen from my hands and, for the briefest of moments, our skin touches. I feel a strange tingle spread throughout my body.

I turn to leave him to his mourning, for I am certain that Father is wondering where I am, but I pause before I move away. “Kakashi-san,” I hedge, and I know that he is listening even though he takes no outward notice, “while it is all right to mourn for our losses, I am quite certain that our friends who have passes on would not want us to be sad forever. The best thing we can do to honor their memory is to continue living our lives as they would want us to.”

There is silence once more, and I hope that I have not spoken out of turn. Embarrassed by my outburst, I dash away from the field.

The place where our hands met still tingles...

...It has been six months since Naruto-kun left the village with Jiraiya-sama, and I have taken to bringing Kakashi-san his favorite ramen if he has not visited the shop for several days. He no longer has any students to care for, just as Father and I no longer have Naruto-kun to care for. And so we are each a little less lonely in the other’s company.

Today is one such time. We are at the Memorial Stone once more, eating lunch together. Few words are spoken during these times, but I believe that is how we both prefer it. Better to stand in a comfortable silence than to attempt awkward small talk about unimportant things.

“I wonder how Naruto-kun is doing,” I say absentmindedly.

Kakashi-san is quick to reply. “I’m sure he’s fine,” he tells me. “Naruto’s a strong kid.”

“Still,” I continue, “I can’t help but worry for him. What if he’s not taking proper care of himself?”

“Jiraiya-sama will make sure that he does,” Kakashi-san reassures me.

There is quiet for several moments. “Is this how you feel every time one of your students goes into battle?” I ask.

“Yes,” he admits, “but in the end all you can do is have faith in their abilities. And sometimes, especially for Naruto, believing in them can make all the difference.”

I smile, feeling privileged at being able to have Kakashi-san share this with me. My heart flutters -- it has been doing that an awful lot lately -- and we spend the rest of our time together in silence...

...Naruto-kun has been gone from the village for a year and a half, now. It has never been more quiet. It feels as if something is missing, and yet I have never before felt so complete as my mind drifts to the many moments I have shared with Kakashi-san. I am on my way to the Memorial Stone with his lunch now, in fact.

Still, I sometimes wish that he would stop being a ninja, if only for a few moments. Many times he has asked me why I bring him lunch, why I look out for his well-being, and what he could do for me in return. Oh, Kakashi-san! If only you could see what was right in front of you!

I can’t help but feel as if I’m being followed. I push the paranoia to the back of my mind. Perhaps Gai-san is also planning to visit Kakashi-san today. It is rather peaceful outside. It seems as it the cool breeze itself is singing, a soft, lilting lullaby. I sit on a bench to listen for a few minutes. For some reason, though, I’m awfully tired. I close my eyes to rest them, only for a a second or two...

...It is very dark. Why is it dark? I only fell asleep for a moment! I try to stand, but my feet and hands are tied, and I am on my knees. What’s going on? There is a thud not far from me, and I freeze in fear. I let out a small whimper, but it is muffled by a cloth tied around my mouth.

“Ah, Kakashi-kun!” The voice is low, and it comes from directly behind me. “How good of you to join us!”

“Why have you kidnapped a civilian of Konohagakure?” It’s Kakashi-san! His voice is deathly quiet, edged with steel and killing intent, and yet my heart still flutters at the sound of it.

The shinobi -- he must have been a shinobi, there was no other explanation, Kakashi-san would have killed him by now otherwise -- behind me laughed a wicked laugh, and shivers ran up and down my spine.

“Why would I kidnap your little girlfriend?” The shinobi was mockingly pondering the question, as if he had only now thought of it. “To draw you out and kill you, of course!”

There is another thud where the shinobi had been standing, and no more words are spoken. In their place are the clashing of metal, the meeting of flesh against flesh, and every now or then a pained grunt or frustrated yell.

I am more afraid than I have ever been in my life. I am afraid that I will die, and I am afraid that Kakashi-san will die trying to save me. My face is wet, and I realize that I am crying in terror. Go back, Kakashi-san! Leave me and save yourself! Please!

Finally, there is a chocked gasping, and a body thuds to the ground. The victor slowly approaches me and I tremble, hoping against hope that Kakashi-san is not dead. Then I feel skin on my face and the blindfold in removed, and the places where our skin met tingles as relief floods my body. There is light again, and I am in the middle of a forest, and Kakashi-san is before me, the famed sharingan exposed, physically exhausted but alive and in one piece. I can feel him smiling comfortingly as he gently removes my bindings, and I rest my head on his shoulder. He’s alive!

But then a glimmer of light catches my eye, and I can see a hidden shinobi with an Oto hitai-ate aiming a deadly kunai at the center of Kakashi-san’s back, and my moves on its own as I push Kakashi-san aside and the knife embeds itself in my heart.

Before I can blink the Oto nin is dead, and I am resting safely in Kakashi-san’s arms. He is staring disbelievingly at me, and I can almost see his lips moving beneath the mask as he speaks. “Why? !” He asks me, uncomprehendingly. “Why would you do that? !”

I smile sadly at him and cough slightly, barely feeling the pain as long as he holds me close. “Kakashi-san,” I say, breathlessly, and he falls silent. “You were so busy trying to see beneath the underneath that you were blind to that which was right in front of you.” I can tell that he is still confused, and a sadness overtakes me. I reach a shaky hand to his mask, exposing his beautiful face one last time, and lean forward to place a kiss on his lips.

They are soft and warm, and my whole body tingles, and I revel in the feeling as a bright light envelopes me and his face slowly vanishes from sight...

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Tsubame-chan is crying, and I am crying, and we hold each other tightly in the compassion and companionship of the dead. For only the dead can know that while life is only an evanescence, a fleeting moment in the everlasting eternity, love -- even an unrequited love or a love without an answer -- is forever.

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AN: So there’s my little oneshot; I hope you all enjoyed it. I’m so happy I got to write something with a tragic ending! A big part of me really wants to end If Wishes Were Horses as a tragedy to show that things in real life don’t always have a happy ending, but I just can’t bear to do that to Ryoma-kun with all the torture I’m putting him through! Maybe I’ll just write an alternate ending...

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed my little venture into the Naruto verse! I actually have an idea for a multi-chaptered Naruto fic sprung from a dream I had last night. It started out with Naruto and Yondaime, then Yondaime turned into a ghost, then Naruto turned into Edward Elric, and Harry Potter made its way in somehow... The stories not near as weird as my dreams though, don’t worry. The point is that if I get enough positive feedback on this story I may start writing that one.

So once again, I hope you enjoyed this. Thank you all for reading. Please review!

-Sugarpony