Necklaces

A/N: Well, it’s been ages, hasn’t it?! Probably over a month since I updated ::weep::! I’m sorry! I’ll do better! (Unless I don’t? lol.) Ah well. I can not thank the lot of you enough for so kindly reviewing me! I hope you never, ever stop (or go away or get sick or get something stuck in your teeth)! EVAR! Ahahah.. hah.. eh, hope you enjoy my little eight-page peace offering. ( :

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"I'm... very sorry."

Had Naruto's acquaintances or fellow ninja heard this decisive, sedate tone, they simply would have believed it was someone else that had spoken.

Naruto stood - bathed, changed, and subdued - before the well-maintained, homogeneously black Memorial that had been dedicated to his long-passed fellows.

The dark-on-darks that comprised his mirrored image had collaborated to produce a fitting picture; one that gelled quite well with this place's being a domain of the Dead. Naruto had never felt himself more a part of it than he did at this moment, as he watched his colorless reflection in the Memorial's night-cloaked, marble luster.

He reached out - something had compelled him to touch what might have been his very soul's likeness - but then, thought better of it. Even had it been a reality that he could press his palm to that of his own sunken spirit, it wouldn't be appropriate.

He was less than worthy.

He folded his hands decorously before himself, should another like desire present itself.

Naruto had come here countless times before, to atone - some may have been shocked to find how hard the man truly was on himself - but this time he had come for a reason he had never, ever foreseen. He'd come this night to apologize for breaking a promise.

Naruto didn't break promises. It was simply a non-entity.

The trees rustled secretively - Naruto fancied they chided him.

As a budding ninja, way back when he'd started, he'd quickly learned the cold, hard truths of his chosen career.

Ninja swore fealty to many things. Some to their villages, some to vengeance. Others still chose a Master; no matter made of the shinobi's life becoming not of their own, their skills subject to being deployed on a moment's notice - for good or for evil - and upon someone else's whim.

Over time, he'd come to see it played out a thousand different ways, hundreds of which were senselessly tragic.

He hadn't thought he could devote himself to a person or thing that way, never knowing what it would demand of him - and after a handful of years worth more than their weight in experience, the bulk of his sentiments remained the same.

Naruto had held many convictions that just wouldn't jibe with certain things - assassinations carried out upon unthinking duty, causing pain where there were attainable alternatives - even as a child. The only decision he had been able to make when it came to promising his loyalties was that he would always hold firm to the spirit of his vows themselves, come what may.

"I'll never go back on my word! That's my Way of the Ninja!" echoed his memory, in his own voice; younger, much more naive.

He flinched.

Perhaps it was no mistake he donned all black on this occasion. He was technically dressed for a hasty departure in the thick of the night, this being his final stop - yet, the lack of color suited his end. He was mourning for everyone all over again, even though the unfortunate majority of these people had died when he was only just born.

On the actual date of his birth, in fact.

Breaking this promise, to and before the very spirits of those he had sworn to protect as Hokage someday, was one and the same as breaking the rest of his heart.

"I really am sorry. I thought for the life of me that I could be something someday, and protect you guys's kids and grandkids... but I hafta go. I don't wanna hurt anyone else, and I'm not gonna. No one in Konoha will ever suffer because of me, not ever again, so at least I'm not making that part of what I promised you go away..." His throat clicked as he swallowed effortfully.

Naruto didn't know he shaped words of his next breath: "...I almost would if I could... if it meant I could stay..."

Belatedly hearing the helplessness of his tone, he halted another fumbled rush of words before it could begin, closing his mouth with an audible snap. He'd stopped just as suddenly as he'd started - if not half as easily - clinging precariously to his composure.

He knew he was prone to rambling... out of habit and remorse alike, it seemed. But this was a time for respect, for self-restraint... for whatever honor he could salvage. Sadly, there was little more he could share with his otherworldly brothers and sisters.

Some things couldn't be aptly spoken, and others just shouldn't be spoken at all.

Like why he was leaving.

He didn't see it fit to speak of the Kyuubi in front of these people, let alone to them.

Kyuubi was why they were dead, Kyuubi was why some of their children were dead, their lovers, their friends. Those loved ones that had been bestowed with the dubious luck to have survived remained orphaned and bereft. Kyuubi was why Naruto had first felt obligated to lead and defend Konoha himself someday... and yet, It was the reason he now took it all back.

...The Kyuubi was now giving him frighteningly realistic dreams. Kyuubi was gaining control... control enough to give him dreams. Where would it end? Would it end?

No one had ever told him that Kyuubi would someday affect his emotions or his mind, but who could have known? No one left alive. Nevertheless, affecting him it was, and Naruto felt he knew well the nature of that particular Beast.

Though the Fox hadn't been able to break through to his conscious mind very vividly before, Naruto could still sense the shape of what it was. Predatory, deceitful, always hungry... and possessing the power to split mountains, should anyone dare to thwart it.

Of course Kyuubi was bad, he was a demon. But what Naruto had discovered about him now forced his hand, forced him to a place he'd hoped he'd never be.

He'd hoped he'd never be leaving.

Even though Konoha had all too often been a cold comfort to him, it was home... and he'd hoped he'd never be leaving.

Through the small amount of osmosis that had occurred between Naruto and the Fox over the years, he knew how Kyuubi dealt with his... treasures. Obsessively, possessively, and remorselessly. Kyuubi knew what he wanted, took it... and if there was a chance of losing it, it was destroyed. That simple.

Humans especially. The Fox didn't find humans of value as a rule, but now and again, he'd ...had one. And when they no longer captured his interest or forwarded his vile agenda, he just did away with them like yesterday's trash. Once they'd outlived their usefulness.

When Naruto had wakened upon the beach just two hours since, he'd only had to look down his own body to see evidence of the Kyuubi's next desired conquest.

There was a seal, of course, there had to be a seal to bind the Fox to the boy. Things like that didn't just happen.

All those years ago, the Fourth Hokage had elected to imprison the Kyuubi, when the villagers' attempts to defeat it by other means had exhausted themselves. Naruto, as he now understood, was then deemed strong enough to retain the thing, being an adaptable newborn. There were supposedly some other key characteristics he had possessed, but these, only a Hokage could delineate.

And so the Fourth had painted the whorling glyphs upon the child - forfeiting his own existence - sealing the demon's fate to be forever enmeshed with that of the fresh, new life. All three were joined then as now, irrevocably; dead, sealed, and alive, respectively.

In all its permanence, the seal didn't often show itself; where once it was but paint, it was now something arcane and ingrained; the ink obsolete, years worn away. Historically, it would only manifest itself when Naruto was under tremendous stress.

So when he'd looked down himself, gritty and cold, necklaceless and heart-sick, to find that the spiral adorning his navel had been visible - only just beginning to fade from a baleful, foully molten red - he knew.

Kyuubi ...wanted Sasuke.

Now he knew. The dream, the glyphs' intensity... it was all too much clearer than the increasingly faint-hearted Naruto could stand. Never had he felt so cowardly, never had he so hated himself - to pray that such a thing could have somehow remained unknown! - knowing this was saving lives, saving his home, saving his... saving Sasuke!

Futhermore, if one were to judge by the content of said dream, the Kyuubi had chosen to take Sasuke ...for his mate.

Uchiha Sasuke was Konoha's only hope for the reinstatement of its noblest, strongest clan.

Uzumaki Naruto, therefore, had come to be nothing more or less than a liability.

Though no one would know of this sacrifice, he'd make it. He'd make it as a Hokage would. Maybe in some cosmic sense, this was how he was meant to protect his home.

Some part of him thought it would have been nice for people to someday know how it had devastated him to guarantee their prosperity, and how he did it of his own cognizant will, this time... but even that lonely little boy wished Sasuke only the longest, most blissfully ignorant life there could be.

Envisioning his dearest friend's peace, Naruto realized he hadn't broken every last shard of his own heart, after all.

It was in this, by way of the second wind this small comfort afforded him, that he found the strength to turn from the Memorial and crouch to shoulder his pack, his supplies, and his katana.

As he prepared to seat the sword across his back and depart forever, he felt its heft, and realized that it was all wrong for his grip.

...This was Sasuke's sword. The sheer irony filled him with weak hilarity, and his mouth with the taste of something like rust.

Naruto had promised he'd polish it for him, to make up for the kunai-stab to his arm. Instead of polishing it right off, he'd left it until later, in favor of a spin around town on his bike. When vacating his apartment for the last time, he'd packed the wrong one.

So another promise had to be left unmended... but damned if he'd leave Sasuke without his weapon.

Steeling himself for just one more pain of separation, he shut his eyes, throwing out the Kyuubi's senses to locate his friend directly.

Blue eyes opened, pupils dilated in the dark. Naruto, after bowing his leave to the Memorial, followed the Fox's lead.


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When Sasuke saw those eyes, the loveliest, floatiest feeling came over him. Their brilliance seemed to spread out and faerie-dust everything he perceived, making the world a happy candy-land; and gods almighty, did he have an appetite.

"...I've been waiting for you," Sasuke intimated to the nice man, attempting to look nonchalant in the blind venture of re-seating himself.

"I hoped you'd say something like that, beautiful," replied the other. The words were a starburst - they twinkled along with everything else filling Sasuke's ears, like an aural fourth-of-July celebration. All he wanted was to climb right up his friend as if he were a big strong tree. Any reservations he had had moments ago seemed pointless, without real foundation. What was logic anyway? Not much, especially when one couldn't handily find the wherewithal to use it.

Seemingly out of nowhere, strong hands inserted themselves beneath Sasuke's armpits and hauled him out of the booth, before Sasuke could even wedge himself back upon the bench.

"Thankyou," Sasuke blurted, leaning with undue familiarly (he couldn't be drunk) into the other man's side, hooking an elbow around his neck. Who needed to stand when you had somewhere to hang? "You smell fucking-great," he added, with an uncharacteristic leer. Liquor and sweat was where it was at, apparently, when it came to olfactory entertainment.

People watched, mystified, as the mysterious brunette who had been so cold and distant much of the night was collected like so many wildflowers by the darkly-dressed and extremely self-satisfied blonde. For all of his earlier posturing, he hadn't put up even the hint of a struggle.

Sasuke, for his part, was on cloud nine. The boozy breath of his companion served to scatter his senses even further. The air of decadence that saturated the club, the same air that had seemed only sleazy before, drugged him now, whittling away at the logical him until all he knew was his own craving. Everything was so beautiful, everything but the nagging ache between his legs.

An arm still curled snugly around the man's neck, he allowed himself to be led, feeling slightly giddy. He glanced up from snuffling the other man's surprisingly soft hair, unaware of the minutes that had marched on in the meantime, and saw he was somewhere darker... someplace where the music was reduced to a vibration in the floor. His pants were excessively tight, but and because of that he laughed.

"Sewww, where are we, Moron?" Sasuke slurred, grinning like a jackal into the man's neck.

"Well, I did say you could call me whatever you wanted," Sasuke's companion mused, gravelly-gruff in his ears. "We're haven't gone far, don't you worry your pretty little head about that, alright?"

"Mmnnn... I'd go anywhere with you, you know that?" Sasuke purred loopily, grabbing a handful of ass.

For his trouble, Sasuke received a detached spinning sensation, and a new vantage point, back shoved against yet another wall. Who'd built a wall here without telling him? He meeped, the noise serving as both a nervous giggle and one of pleasant surprise.

"That's good, that's real good, baby. 'Cause we're goin' on a little trip, you an' me, but the trick is, we're gonna stay right here, see?" was hissed against Sasuke's ear.

It sounded like the man had spoken into a canyon with the way it reverberated in Sasuke's head. He felt himself harden to another impossible degree with each repetition. He squirmed maladroitly into an arch, the front of him seeking more contact with the object of his lust, while he ground his shoulder-blades into the wall. He itched all over, and needed a damned good scratching.

Sasuke, feeling greedy hands on his backside and the floor disappearing from beneath his heels, decided to stop moving and let himself be manhandled, a tipsy-dreamy smile ghosting his lips. "Mmnnn, do it to me," he commented, seductive without art, surrealistically feeling his hair smear against the wall as he exposed his neck.

"You want me to suck you off, don't you?" the shapeless voice returned, rough.

"Oh god yes please do it, make me come, I'm so hard," Sasuke murmured, voice sweet, a pleasing contrast to his words. His eyelids fell half-mast as he re-lost his half-hearted battle to remain still. He pushed his painfully tight groin against the blonde's hip, trying to part his own thighs, slipping down the wall a bit in the attempt to straddle his tormentor and stay vertical at once. Unhappy puppy-sounds wheedled from him in his plight.

"You want me to fuck you, don't you," the voice again, calculating, observing. Distractingly dark hair was gathered into a fist as a strategically balmy breath hit Sasuke's pulse-point.

"Yes please fuck me I'll be a good boy just fuck me?" was breathed with nary a hitch. Sasuke felt he would suffocate, pinned as he was between hard muscle and ungiving cement, needing in this unfair new world where he could ache and reach but ...not ...get.

"Yeah? You'll have to wait 'til later for that, 'cause I wanna make you scream. Right here." The last was emphasized with twin yanks of Sasuke's hair, making him whimper. He tried focusing his eyes, soaking in all the blue, letting it stare him down and he thought he'd shoot in his pants if something else didn't happen and happen fast. As it was, the sticky, oppressive heat of his arousal threatened to rip right through the front of his leathers; it was like there was something inside him, something made mostly of fangs and claws trying to fight its way out of his body and he really was so very hard...

Not many would have been able to blame the blonde man for his sudden ...'compassion'. Sasuke begging was enough to shake the resolve of a saint, and Sasuke's date for the evening was far from. Resisting would approach futile, in the minds of several several.

Falling victim to Sasuke's imploring dazey gaze (many, likely, would wish they were faced with such a defeat), the blonde let Sasuke's feet support him entirely once again. Moving with the downward trend, the man slid down Sasuke's body, to his knees, simply incapable of keeping it clean any longer.

Sasuke's eyes widened, snapping straight ahead, tearing from the endless blue. His jaw dropped open to lock; he felt moist leather being unfurled from his sex, peeling from him. He jolted helplessly with every parting graze of hide against hyper-sensitized flesh.

'Can I really let him... let him ...will it be okay to just let him...?' the voice of dwindling reason asked of Sasuke, from his conscience, struggling for importance against this universe of yes, of now. Breath already licked his burning shaft - it was so close to happening - but it was such a (so very secretly) momentous thing for the boy that this one part of him still fought to remain coherent, to be heard.

'Do I...? Do I ...really trust him? ...Can I...?' Sasuke turned his cheek to press against the should-have-been refreshingly cool wall, wishing it could afford him some clarity.

The guilt preceding the undeniable and resounding affirmative practically smote him for even wondering, a stab to his chest felt even through his chemical euphoria.

Oh, he remembered. And how.


-- i can still see us there naruto - i see you there across the ravine - i want to go to leave to stay away to get stronger to kill him to kill itachi but you won't let me go naruto - you say to me no sasuke please please stay please come home please we need you she needs you okay i need you too isn't that enough? - no naruto you fool it's too late - go away - go away - i tell you i don't care who has lived or died to find me to stop me it's too late - but you won't listen naruto you won't let me go - and we're only thirteen only thirteen years old it's too soon for one of us to die naruto but if one of us has to die naruto it will have to be you - it will have to be you - i have to get him kill him live to make him pay naruto you can't you won't you wouldn't stop me if you knew how it felt how it burnt my brain all day all night every day and every night - but what hurts worse is now that you're here naruto and won't leave naruto - i will kill you - and i tell you that i will kill you naruto - untold power will be mine if i hurt (me) you if i make (me) you die if only i kill (me) you - i don't back down i don't stop hurting (me) you naruto - you (i) cry - i (you) don't cry - i just hurt - and hurt - and hurt you my best my treasured my precious --


"God you're beautiful", a distant voice offered from somewhere below Sasuke's beltline, fishing him out of his near-hysterical ruminations.

Of course he could ‘let’ him. The most sacred things Sasuke could ever possess were Naruto's to take. Naruto had brought him back. In more ways than one.

While Sasuke had tried to kill him, Naruto had just let him, like it wasn't even a thing, only returning fire to subdue. He hadn't run, hadn't been willing to leave Sasuke there. He hadn't let himself die either, knowing with nothing more than intuition born of sheer devotion what Sasuke was really trying to do.

In the end, Naruto had saved his life, then his sanity, then his soul. The odds were not very against the possibility that Naruto had also given Sasuke a heart that day.

And then, Naruto had forgiven him. Sasuke couldn't swear that Naruto had ever blamed him.

He slid the fingers of both hands through hair that was too fine, in a place he no longer had hope of identifying, and went with it.

Even tenuous coherency became obsolete.

More than once, he tried to make his throat work. To say something to the one he was about to let make love to him with his mouth. Words of passion, words of gratitude, anything. He had little idea as to why the powers of speech had abandoned him, or how swiftly it came to be that he could no longer properly frame a thought.

Sasuke soon forgot why even these things mattered, and not long thereafter, forgot that he forgot.

Sasuke could only watch the people dance from the corners of glazed, clear-bleeding eyes, his cheek still seeking solace from dead-cold concrete.

Over sweat-matted fair hair, from the safety of the shadows, Sasuke watched the people dance.


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End Chapter Four.
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