Naruto fic -- Not much use
Naruto fic
Title: Not Much Use
Summery: People are dead, Naruto doesn't cope, and the cycles that have hold of them all. Angst . Death
Not Much Use
Naruto's all grown up.
Naruto's all grown up and alone, and gods, why hadn't they grown up with him? He sits with idle thoughts, hitai-ate around his neck, peeling apples in the dark. It's never much use to talk to Naruto-kun anymore.
No matter how often they replace his hitai-ate, he always shows up with it with one long slash dug through the metal on the left side -- straight down, and tied around his neck where that gash lines up with his eye. And sometimes his hips have a certain tilt, and he smiles with just his crinkled eyes, and drawls so much that sometimes, they want to scream at him -- fox monster killer evil stop playing pranks stop pulling jokes it isn't funny anymore -- but they can't, they won't, because those gloved fingers were likely lash out and spill a few more lives out onto the ground.
It's no use talking to Naruto-kun anymore.
Because he tends to glare and scoff and sneer. Whips through jutsu in nothing flat with blank blank eyes and just the slightest smug curl to his lips. He challenges and is challenged, and is cool and calm and confident, and demands fights at the drop of a hat. And sometimes he has this certain tilt to his head, and his hair falls just right, and his shoulders line up in just the right way, and they want to wail at him -- fraud fake loser imitator stop playing this game stop doing theses things it was never funny -- but they still won't, because he has those blades in his hands, and he's not afraid to use them.
Was it ever any use to talk to Naruto-kun?
Yet he sits in the dark and lingers in the corridors of the hospital. Visits people he doesn't know in their deathbeds, sitting at their side and ignoring the vicious and afraid curses flung at him, peeling apples and slicing them up, and sitting unmoving when the nurses come. He says meaningless words and chants names that no longer have people, and they can't touch him and drag him away, no matter how much they want to shout -- idiot fake demon you aren't doing anything you're useless you're weird go away we don't want you -- but they can't, because he won't let them.
Naruto-kun never listens to words anymore, anyway.
He hovers around the Academy, and hunts in the darkness, and that mask covers his face and really, really, they don't try to talk to him anymore. He yells his heads off at kids and maybe one time he saved that one boy from that jounin who was having a breakdown -- and maybe the boy developed the same fear of blood that Tsunade once had, but no one really blamed him, because Naruto painted it everywhere --but they still wished he'd stay away. He hunts in the night, clad in black and grey armor, white mask all streaked with red. He hunts and sometimes when he'd drifted from the mind, he'd burst into chaotic and desperate laughter.
They stopped talking to Naruto-kun, just now.
So when the so-very-infamous nin stops showing up, and Ino disappears, and Kiba never returns, and Neji's in the hospital, and Shikamaru puts in a request for ANBU, no one is very surprised.
They wait apprehensively for the next time that laughter splits the night and a shinobi all dressed in black to begin the cycle all over again. It's only a matter of time before the weapons of Konoha start showing their dented edges.
In a dark room, mask hanging by a purple ribbon, Shikamaru ties an orange band on his arm and lights up a cigarette.
It's not been much use talking to Shikamaru-kun these days.
--
Drabble brought to you by this KakaIru and NaruIru angsty fic. lol
Title: Not Much Use
Summery: People are dead, Naruto doesn't cope, and the cycles that have hold of them all. Angst . Death
Not Much Use
Naruto's all grown up.
Naruto's all grown up and alone, and gods, why hadn't they grown up with him? He sits with idle thoughts, hitai-ate around his neck, peeling apples in the dark. It's never much use to talk to Naruto-kun anymore.
No matter how often they replace his hitai-ate, he always shows up with it with one long slash dug through the metal on the left side -- straight down, and tied around his neck where that gash lines up with his eye. And sometimes his hips have a certain tilt, and he smiles with just his crinkled eyes, and drawls so much that sometimes, they want to scream at him -- fox monster killer evil stop playing pranks stop pulling jokes it isn't funny anymore -- but they can't, they won't, because those gloved fingers were likely lash out and spill a few more lives out onto the ground.
It's no use talking to Naruto-kun anymore.
Because he tends to glare and scoff and sneer. Whips through jutsu in nothing flat with blank blank eyes and just the slightest smug curl to his lips. He challenges and is challenged, and is cool and calm and confident, and demands fights at the drop of a hat. And sometimes he has this certain tilt to his head, and his hair falls just right, and his shoulders line up in just the right way, and they want to wail at him -- fraud fake loser imitator stop playing this game stop doing theses things it was never funny -- but they still won't, because he has those blades in his hands, and he's not afraid to use them.
Was it ever any use to talk to Naruto-kun?
Yet he sits in the dark and lingers in the corridors of the hospital. Visits people he doesn't know in their deathbeds, sitting at their side and ignoring the vicious and afraid curses flung at him, peeling apples and slicing them up, and sitting unmoving when the nurses come. He says meaningless words and chants names that no longer have people, and they can't touch him and drag him away, no matter how much they want to shout -- idiot fake demon you aren't doing anything you're useless you're weird go away we don't want you -- but they can't, because he won't let them.
Naruto-kun never listens to words anymore, anyway.
He hovers around the Academy, and hunts in the darkness, and that mask covers his face and really, really, they don't try to talk to him anymore. He yells his heads off at kids and maybe one time he saved that one boy from that jounin who was having a breakdown -- and maybe the boy developed the same fear of blood that Tsunade once had, but no one really blamed him, because Naruto painted it everywhere --but they still wished he'd stay away. He hunts in the night, clad in black and grey armor, white mask all streaked with red. He hunts and sometimes when he'd drifted from the mind, he'd burst into chaotic and desperate laughter.
They stopped talking to Naruto-kun, just now.
So when the so-very-infamous nin stops showing up, and Ino disappears, and Kiba never returns, and Neji's in the hospital, and Shikamaru puts in a request for ANBU, no one is very surprised.
They wait apprehensively for the next time that laughter splits the night and a shinobi all dressed in black to begin the cycle all over again. It's only a matter of time before the weapons of Konoha start showing their dented edges.
In a dark room, mask hanging by a purple ribbon, Shikamaru ties an orange band on his arm and lights up a cigarette.
It's not been much use talking to Shikamaru-kun these days.
--
Drabble brought to you by this KakaIru and NaruIru angsty fic. lol