Give me the Words
folder
Naruto › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
11
Views:
1,722
Reviews:
22
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Naruto › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
11
Views:
1,722
Reviews:
22
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Impressions
Summary: There are some things you never forget.
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The first time Naruto met Kyuubi he was six years old.
Even to his day he can't remember the details of how he came to be in that clearing; he only knows what his father told him later, that one of his Anbu guards was a traitor who sold him out. He has no recollection of what their faces looked like, whether they wore cloaks or rags, whether it hurt when his hands were bound behind his back, or how many of them were there.
What he does remember is the sick feeling of overwhelming fear, the desperation gnawing at his sanity, and the salty taste of his tears. He remembers the man who hit him to make him stop crying, and he remembers the malicious amusement flooding his senses as he was plunged into darkness. Down, down, down, until he could feel nothing but the breath of a gigantic shadow ruffling his hair.
As far as he knows there were no words, but it's possible that he forgot them, and if he did, then they weren't important anyway. There's one image that is still perfectly clear in his mind--that of a huge fox bending down to glower at him in hatred and disgust, red energy swirling around its enormous paws in mesmerizing patterns. He remembers the fear and awe that made his hands tremble as he reached out to touch one of the hazy clouds slowly creeping its way towards him, and the excruciating pain as the energy latched on and burned its way through his veins, his system struggling to adapt to the sudden influx of inhuman chakra.
Maybe he can't recall what their faces looked like, but he will never forget their screams. He will never forget the dizzying exhilaration that swept through him as the scent of their fear clogged up his nose, what their blood tasted like as he watched his body rip them to pieces, and how his head was pounding with deafening laughter echoing in his ears and spilling from his mouth.
It's been eight years since that day, the clearing is a different one, and when his consciousness is forced down into the damp darkness of his mind, there is nothing but a large empty cell to greet him, though he can still feel the demon's hatred swirling in a dark red haze just over the floor. There's no barking laughter in his ears when he opens his eyes, no endless rage echoing his own, but the bubbling chakra coating him tints his world just as red as it did back then, and when he rips out his enemy's throat, their blood tastes just as sweet.
He wants to laugh and revel in the feeling of the warm, sticky liquid dripping from his chin and his claws, staining his white teeth a sinister crimson, but clearer than the exhilaration--more distinct than the feeling of invincibility and cruel amusement--he remembers the look in his father's eyes when he was finally found.
Naruto feels sick.
--
--
The first time Naruto met Kyuubi he was six years old.
Even to his day he can't remember the details of how he came to be in that clearing; he only knows what his father told him later, that one of his Anbu guards was a traitor who sold him out. He has no recollection of what their faces looked like, whether they wore cloaks or rags, whether it hurt when his hands were bound behind his back, or how many of them were there.
What he does remember is the sick feeling of overwhelming fear, the desperation gnawing at his sanity, and the salty taste of his tears. He remembers the man who hit him to make him stop crying, and he remembers the malicious amusement flooding his senses as he was plunged into darkness. Down, down, down, until he could feel nothing but the breath of a gigantic shadow ruffling his hair.
As far as he knows there were no words, but it's possible that he forgot them, and if he did, then they weren't important anyway. There's one image that is still perfectly clear in his mind--that of a huge fox bending down to glower at him in hatred and disgust, red energy swirling around its enormous paws in mesmerizing patterns. He remembers the fear and awe that made his hands tremble as he reached out to touch one of the hazy clouds slowly creeping its way towards him, and the excruciating pain as the energy latched on and burned its way through his veins, his system struggling to adapt to the sudden influx of inhuman chakra.
Maybe he can't recall what their faces looked like, but he will never forget their screams. He will never forget the dizzying exhilaration that swept through him as the scent of their fear clogged up his nose, what their blood tasted like as he watched his body rip them to pieces, and how his head was pounding with deafening laughter echoing in his ears and spilling from his mouth.
It's been eight years since that day, the clearing is a different one, and when his consciousness is forced down into the damp darkness of his mind, there is nothing but a large empty cell to greet him, though he can still feel the demon's hatred swirling in a dark red haze just over the floor. There's no barking laughter in his ears when he opens his eyes, no endless rage echoing his own, but the bubbling chakra coating him tints his world just as red as it did back then, and when he rips out his enemy's throat, their blood tastes just as sweet.
He wants to laugh and revel in the feeling of the warm, sticky liquid dripping from his chin and his claws, staining his white teeth a sinister crimson, but clearer than the exhilaration--more distinct than the feeling of invincibility and cruel amusement--he remembers the look in his father's eyes when he was finally found.
Naruto feels sick.
--