World Painted Red

Author's Note: Alright, so we now know that Naruto is a little emo.

Good, he has his reasons for these suicidal episodes and trust me,
there will be more attempts throughout this story.

So please keep reading, review if you want, and chuck lemons and other
strange symbolic objects at old people. Cuz if we don't help them out,
the Health Care Reformation would...by mass murder!

Now...enjoy!

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Chapter Two


There’s one thing suicidal freaks like myself know about failed attempts.

Once you are found, rescued and brought to the hospital to be revived, patched up, and observed like a wild specimen that someone is bound to be there waiting for you.

That’s why committing suicide should be a one time ordeal.

Upon my return to the world of the living, I was greeted by my usual white wash prison and the sweet melody of medical machines trying to keep me alive for another day. Glancing about my horrific prison, I heard the soft mumbles of someone calculating my person. Blue eyes met with red hues and I knew who ever this guy I’m not going to enjoy what he says.

The smile he gave me put my senses on high alert. “Welcome back to the world of the living, Uzumaki Naruto.” He tried to attempt friendly, but it came out dark and haunting. If I wasn't already insane, I would actually question his mentality.

Plus, after realizing I'm not dead, my mood wasn't the best. So, kind words were far from my mind.

“If you are not here to kill me, don’t waste my time.” Perfect syllables to follow a deadpan expression and the swelling annoyance I felt towards being examined.

He didn’t react to my rudeness like other shrinks had, but chuckled in amusement. “Yes, well in my line of profession, I’m not allowed to kill my patients.” He looked down at my wrist, which the nurse happily wrapped up like a mummy. “From what I can see, you didn’t do a bang up job either.”

I wanted to laugh, to scream bitter remarks to this asshole, but seeing how I lost probably three fourths of blood and whatever bit of sanity I had left, I just settled with the insult.

“Why are you here?”

“The doctor thought it would be nice for you to see a smiling face and I’ve volunteered.” More sarcasm than I can handle.

Is this guy supposed to be me five years from now, without the suicide attempts? God isn’t being humorous right now.
“Let me rephrase myself…what the fuck do you want?”

The man sighed deeply, all humor aside and the serious expression took over this whole conversation. “Apparently, Uzumaki-san, I’ve been assigned to be your doctor.”

Oh goody, another therapy session to fix my brain. “You’re kind of late, doc. I’ve been fucked up since birth and many before you either quit or ran out the room in tears.”

He stroked his chin, red eyes staring up at the ceiling. I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or thinking, but his reply still held its sarcastic timbre. “Yes, well I don’t really care what others did nor do I care about how fucked up you are. I’ve read your file, watched the videos of other psychoanalyst, and heard more than enough scientific observations to last me years, so what I’m trying to say it, you cannot get rid of me that easily.”

“I know my rights.” I threatened.

He smirked, all teeth sharp like his tongue. “I know my rights too and seeing how I’m the adult and you are still a child, I don’t have to listen to you.”

I refused to be someone’s amusement, carefully reaching over for the nurse’s aide button. “I want you gone.”

He did not move nor blink. “Let’s get one thing straight, kid. Whether you like it or not, you’re my patient and I’m your worst nightmare. So through your hissy fits for all I care, I’m not going to be intimidated by some wash up freak.”

“Fuck you.” The words came faster than I wanted them to and he looked at me with eyes of pure malice.

Great, I'm only fifteen minutes in the world of the living and I made someone else have a reason to hate me. From the way he acted, I knew my chances of survival were slim. I bet this man could easily take down a group of strong arms without blinking. For fuck sake, he was build like a damn Linebacker for some football team. Without realized, my trigger finger pushed the button and the nurse quickly rushed in. His expression mellowed down and he returned to his cool composure.

The poor nurse looked between us, seeing my distress and his calmness, she had to question exactly what went wrong. "What's wrong, Uzumaki-san? Is everything alright with you?" She asked, checking out my vitals to see my heart rate went up on the EKG machine. Her brow furrowed inwardly.

When I went to say something about this man disturbing my peace, he spoke for me in his sickly sweet tone. "I apologize, ma'am I'm the one to blame for his increasing heart rate. You see, I started questioning him and apparently he went into a little panic attack, which is why he called for you. I did not mean to cause any problems on his weak body."

The nurse wasn't too happy with the news for she gave him a dirty look. "Yes, Kyuubi-sama that was very unprofessional of you to put him in harms way like that. So I'm going to have to ask you to leave." She pointed to the door, not caring at all if she was rude or not.

He didn't protest.

“You are right, madam, I should leave.” He rose to full height as he looked at me one last time. "Uzumaki-kun, please recover quickly. I believe we have much work to do and with your delicate condition, we must don't have time to waste. So, I'm giving you two weeks before we start our first session together. Until then, take care of yourself. Good day."

He disappeared from my room and I released the breath that I didn't know I held. The nurse shook her head, muttered something obscene while patting my arm gently.

"I do apologize for that disturbance, Mr. Uzumaki, but the doctor ordered that man to enter your room." She carefully said, pushing some button on the machine. "Kyuubi-sama can be annoying at most, but he is the best. I've seen him work miracles."

I didn’t say anything or did I care what he did.

"When can I leave this hellhole?" It was a force of habit. Every time I try to kill myself and end up in this prison, I ask that question each time.

She smiled, patting my arm again. "Uzumaki-san, you cannot leave until after seventy-two hours or more. You've lost too much blood and if it wasn't for Umino-sensei rushing you over, you would have been dead within minutes.

I wanted to say something sarcastic, on the lines of "no...really?" Instead, I took a vow of silence, turned myself away from the nurse and stared at the white walls of my cell.

Seventy-two hours...alone...with my thoughts wasn't the best idea, but I'm sure with my history they took precaution.

Besides, I'm too weak to try to kill myself again. My mind fiddled with everything that lead me to this point. If it wasn't for God, my life would have been normal.

If it wasn't for my parents wanting to leave the country side to live in the city, I wouldn't be hated. If I had a chance to fully kiss death upon his cold lips, thing would be back to normal and my parents' mistake will be forgotten.

But, when reality rushes at you through a needle stuck into your ass, the only one that is to blame is myself.

I won't admit that anytime soon.