[He's caught in that look, bending beneath it like a reed in water to blow air across blood-marked skin without losing Cy's eyes. It should terrify him, that meaning â but he is too certain to feel anything but rightness, and the terror comes from recognition more than mere existence. As if to speak it will dash it away. Writing in this temporary way, perhaps, is safer, because they'll lose the evidence. But that doesn't mean that it wasn't once there: a private confession of sentiment he dares not say aloud.
Cy's tongue is wet over the miniscule wound, and then as the grip changes he cups a warm cheek and considers how to respond. What he's told Cy already has not carried much detail; he could say plenty about Konoha, its people, the Hokage. He could tell Cy what his world was like before his clan was wiped from the face of history in one broad stroke. Yet none of these feel true enough â the word home comes with an opaque sense of loss, and only now is he realizing why.]
It was lonely. [This is the truth.] After my clan was gone, the village officials left the compound â where we were living separated from the rest of the citizenry â intact. It was... a ghost town, or a graveyard, without any people. They cleared the bodies quickly but there were still signs of what happened everywhere. I visited often, but I didn't live there. I had a small apartment on my own. I went to school and I came back. Most days, I spoke to no one.
[His head droops forward, fringe of dark hair falling into his eyes as his gaze slips down Cy's body. He stares at those red characters, his own family name staring back.]
Eventually I left the village. And then there was a battle, and the compound was destroyed. When I saw it again, everything was buried in rubble, and I knew it wasn't going to be rebuilt. To me, it was... almost a kind of permanency, that those ruined structures wiped away the last evidence my clan was ever there at all.
I was in prison for a year after I returned. Once I was finally released, I couldn't stay. [His voice â falters at these words, some piece of vulnerability broken off as shoulders lose their shape and round slightly forward, unconsciously closer.] I no longer belonged. Everything was gone. I'm not certain that I had felt it was my home since I was eight years old. It was â Naruto. He was the only reason.
[It has weighed on him, this sense of responsibility. He's only alive because of Naruto. To protect that future Naruto had promised.]
... I don't know that I would go back now. [And this, his voice lowers to admit, tangled in shame.] I want to know that he's alive, and safe. But it isn't my home anymore.
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Date: 2024-03-08 03:40 am (UTC)Cy's tongue is wet over the miniscule wound, and then as the grip changes he cups a warm cheek and considers how to respond. What he's told Cy already has not carried much detail; he could say plenty about Konoha, its people, the Hokage. He could tell Cy what his world was like before his clan was wiped from the face of history in one broad stroke. Yet none of these feel true enough â the word home comes with an opaque sense of loss, and only now is he realizing why.]
It was lonely. [This is the truth.] After my clan was gone, the village officials left the compound â where we were living separated from the rest of the citizenry â intact. It was... a ghost town, or a graveyard, without any people. They cleared the bodies quickly but there were still signs of what happened everywhere. I visited often, but I didn't live there. I had a small apartment on my own. I went to school and I came back. Most days, I spoke to no one.
[His head droops forward, fringe of dark hair falling into his eyes as his gaze slips down Cy's body. He stares at those red characters, his own family name staring back.]
Eventually I left the village. And then there was a battle, and the compound was destroyed. When I saw it again, everything was buried in rubble, and I knew it wasn't going to be rebuilt. To me, it was... almost a kind of permanency, that those ruined structures wiped away the last evidence my clan was ever there at all.
I was in prison for a year after I returned. Once I was finally released, I couldn't stay. [His voice â falters at these words, some piece of vulnerability broken off as shoulders lose their shape and round slightly forward, unconsciously closer.] I no longer belonged. Everything was gone. I'm not certain that I had felt it was my home since I was eight years old. It was â Naruto. He was the only reason.
[It has weighed on him, this sense of responsibility. He's only alive because of Naruto. To protect that future Naruto had promised.]
... I don't know that I would go back now. [And this, his voice lowers to admit, tangled in shame.] I want to know that he's alive, and safe. But it isn't my home anymore.