The procession is carried over a river, and the lanterns echo darkness in the most eerie of ways.
Naruto has made the gravest of errors, and loved.
The girl he chose, who had laid with him in the softness of barnyard hay and warm flesh, is perched across the platform they carry, balanced on their shoulders.
It is the slab of wood she is to be burned on, and the village carries what is left of her body into the darkness of silent forest.
She should have never been pregnant. This is the mantra.
Naruto sneaks back, again, into the village, looking for who he left behind. Through the trail he has memorized by day and dusk, he stalks his heart until suddenly the way opens into fire.
And though he stares into the flames of chinese lanterns, he can not see the light.
--
Note: If I can get this story out of my head, I think I'll be a little bit saner.. (I rather wish I could choose the story my head obsesses over.)
Complimentory Image.