Advocated Wars

Chapter Twenty-Four

XXIV

My chin rested on my knee, pressing harshly against the skin. But I didn't move. Even when my teeth clenched together almost painfully, an almost dull ache beginning to settle in my jaw from sitting like this for too long. I didn't dare move, opting to just watch, instead. Listen to the cries that fell from his mouth and onto the pavement, below. Naruto seemed to bury himself in agony, refusing any sort of consolation to me.

But what could I possibly offer?

This wasn't like when Surge's mother died. I couldn't just hold him in my arms and tell him everything would be okay. That even though she was gone, she loved him very much. That he still had his father and brother. What did Naruto have? Nothing. Even now, sitting here with him, I was no comforting factor. What did I matter?

And, oh god, was he angry. The boy, with a fury to surpass even mine, tore at the pure blond strands that adorned his head, tearing until I was sure there would be nothing left. Of him or me.

"Naruto—" I tried again, instantly shutting my mouth, again. He glared at me.

Naruto sniffed. "Why are you still here?" Why was I still here? "You don't even like me—why do you care?" The night's air was cold, and as I slid over closer to him, resting my hand on his knee with my shoulder pressed to his, I tried not to find comfort in his body heat. I didn't want to find amenity in his proximity. To find myself content in his misery.

My thumb traced over his knuckles, almost instantly finding scars—a shinobi's hands. My voice was barely whispered. "I won't apologize, because I know that's not what I want you to hear. I can't amend for the loss of your mentor." He frowned. "But—" God, why was I so bad with this? "I'm here, okay? I know I can't make it better, but I want to help relieve you in any way I can."

"Jiraiya's dead." He swallowed, too loudly and dishearteningly. I didn't notice he had turned his palm to face mine until he was squeezing, so painfully and harshly that I thought I would have to draw away. But, it was a good pain. "The Akatsuki killed him." Naruto's head dropped forward, again, and I didn't try to bring his attention back to me. I wasn't trying to make him forget about this, I didn't want to distract him from the pain he was feeling, now. Naruto had to deal with this. He had to let the pain take him, now, to grieve. And then he would have to deal with it. Because, that's what being a shinobi was. Dealing with death, even when it was someone closest to you. And, then, not giving it the power to consume you.

We didn't have the luxury to stop functioning simply because someone we knew was dead. Sometimes, we didn't even have the time to acknowledge it. As ninja of the Leaf Village, we were expected to deal with this—whether we were ready or not. We were tools for the village to use as they saw fit, and nothing more.

It's not about who we were, but what we are.

I wasn't going to tell Naruto things were going to be okay, because I didn't know if they would be. The Akatsuki were becoming even more than just an impending threat, enclosing around the shinobi world fast. And, if something wasn't done about them, soon, then it wouldn't be long until our world fell into a complete chaos.

"He didn't go down without a fight," I reminded him, thinking back to the body that was now in Konoha's custody, thanks to Jiraiya. Even in his death, the man was still able to bring back at least some form of win for the village. Naruto shook his head, letting his head fall onto my shoulder. I knew I had said the wrong thing, and that's not what he wanted to hear.

But I couldn't tell Naruto what he wanted to hear. Not without lying to him.

*

I didn't see Naruto for two more days. With the weight of a light mission’s fatigue resting heavily against me, I trudged on to Tsunade’s office, hoping I wouldn’t run into anyone on the way there.