Kushina has nothing left to say. Her heart fails, her life light and her soul weightless, she stares at the product of her love and smiles, memorizes the curve of his nose, the swell of his cheeks and the way his eyebrows furrow.
She can only continue to beg the old gods for the safety of her son.
I love you, Naruto.
She has no tears left to cry, joy and sorrow swirling in her chest and forcing her to grin and sob. She knows that her son's hands will be scarred early, splattered with blood that isn't his.
And she can do nothing but beg to the old gods.
I love you so, so much.
But you will never know.
And she dies, leaving behind her a babe left all alone without anyone in his small world.
~~~
Black stumbles toward him in a desperate lunge, wrapping cold bony arms around his neck and breathing garbled words, begging and pleading with him to stay safe and return home.
He unravels the mess of limbs tangled around him and stares into haunted voids of ink. His sentence is delivered heavily as he feels the weight of his pack press down on his shoulders.
He doesn't know where home is.
Black is choking on spit, anguished gaze burning holes into his dark blue shirt. His orange jacket is tucked in a sealing scroll, hidden somewhere in his bag. He feels the chill of the night bite his bare shoulders, tearing into his flesh with a vengeance.
He envelopes Black in one last hug, folding his head into the crook of his neck as he pats the older boy on the back in one comforting action.
When he lets go, he's gone.
Gone with the wind.
And Black wills the bitter tears away as he sneaks back to his room.
~~~
He runs, runs as fast as he can, the file of his dear mother hidden in his bag to provide comfort. The lilies at the Memorial Stone are fresh, the bouquet of soft butter irises and dark crimson roses laid neatly before their respective graves. He leaps past the guards on patrol, melting into the shadows without even batting an eye.
His heart stops when he sees his teachers standing at the gate.
A ponytail in brown and a shock of silver hair, relaxed posture and kunai in hand. How could he bear to leave them behind?
When one steely grey eye meets his own, his breath hitches, his chest tightens and he nearly breaks down.
Then it softens, darts to the Monument in the distance and continues its leisurely conversation.
His fists clench, his lower lip bleeding scarlet blood, but he slips a letter onto the floor and keeps on running, away from the village he's known for his whole life, away from his mentor and Hokage, away from his friends.
Away, away, away.
And when he reaches his limit and collapses on the ground, his feelings spill from his lips and he erupts in silent sobs.
Away, away, away.
~~~
It's dawn when he wakes up, and he slips out of his sleeping bag and eats a ration bar before he keeps running. He drinks water whenever he meets a stream – often – and eats whenever he meets a town.
YOU ARE READING
Of Whirlpools and of Tides
Fanfiction'Save him', Kushina prays to spirits of sand and water. Of salt and shine, the ones that she remembered from stories of old. 'Save him, my child of waves and gales. The crown of leaves and sun. Save him, my darling son.' As she feels herself slippin...
