Reminiscence

Team 7

A cacophony of sounds echoed and resounded through his head, loud and overwhelming to his ears as sheets of rain knocked against the window harshly. The howl of the wind rustling the trees and the very earth outside made for an omnipresent sense of chaos. As if the weather itself was a physical manifestation of the turmoil unfolding within his turbulent mind.

The Hokage was still speaking and yet, his words seemed far away, as if Naruto was suddenly plunged underwater, lost to the torrent, and unable to register any actual meaning behind his speech.

He didn't think he wanted to, either.

He felt, peculiarly disassociated, a spectator watching from the outside as his world came crashing down. As the metaphorical rug was once more pulled from right beneath his feet.

Rising from his seated position, legs steady despite the uneasiness he felt from within, he turned his back to the Third. Calls for him to wait, to sit back down, or to listen went unheard, and ignored as he calmly made his way out of the man's office and into the open streets outside.

The cold, unforgiving wind, coupled with the unrelenting rain, made for a miserable trek home. His thin, worn-out clothes clung to his skin with dampness, his nose red and his hair dripping as he finally stepped into his lonesome apartment.

Not bothering to remove his water-logged shoes, he walked straight into the bathroom, stripping out of his muddy clothes methodically, as if on autopilot. No active thought went through his cool, dazed eyes as he watched the water gather at his feet the longer he stood in place.

Barely aware of his actions, he stepped under his shower, fingers twisting the rusty knob numbly. He waited one moment, and another. Still, no water deigned to come out of the showerhead above him. Pathetic drops of brown, murky leftovers fall onto the cracked tiles beneath his feet.

He felt something inside of him break then. A crack in his barriers, opened up the floodgates to an overwhelming feeling of despair as he dropped into a crouch. Conscious of the cool, icy air making the hairs on his arms stand on end, as he crumbled in on himself. No tears escaped his eyes, however, despite the devastating need he felt to let them out. To let it all out.

His harsh breathing was the only sound in the room as he tried to get his tattered, broken mind to rearrange itself. As he tried to put himself back together.

His fingers dug into the skin of his stomach, as if to physically claw out the creature he now knew, resided within him.

Red, speckles of blood followed in the wake of his nails as he continued to scrape at his irritated flesh.

Every dark, scathing stare he'd ever had directed at him played out in his mind. Memories and incomprehensible instances of his childhood suddenly light up with morbid clarity.

Whispers of the words that have been haunting him for his entire life, every sneer, taunt, and jeer he'd ever gotten thrown at him felt somehow justified now, as he finally understood why he'd been hated, why he'd been reviled for all these years.

Or maybe 'Understood' wasn't the right word for it. Because he didn't really. He didn't understand why.

Why had he, out of all people, been chosen to bear this burden? Why was he the one being punished for the crimes and horrors of another? Why was he being forced to act like- like some kind of human jailer to this creature, this monster living within him? A Jinchuriki, the Hokage had called him. A human sacrifice. His mind whispered bitterly.

And wasn't that ironic? To be once more subjected to this kind of horror. To once again be nothing more than a vessel, unwillingly sharing his body with another soul. One who had killed hundreds, and was referred to as a monster. The kyubi, the nine-tails.