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Weeks, months, or possibly years have passed since Sasuke last allowed himself to step out into the sunlight. How could one know? Perception of time is undeniably shaped by the exposure to the majesty that lies behind the hands of a clock and the fine grains of sand in an old hourglass.
But, when all was said and done, nothing mattered to Sasuke; outside, there was a reality to which he did not feel he belonged and with which he did not wish to be associated. He had always wanted to display a certain personality, to appear apathetic and tough, but as time went by, a sense of self-loathing grew within him, disabling him from carrying on with his life.
Every time he looked at his own reflection in the mirror, he could feel nothing but a sickening revulsion for inhabiting a body that exuded decay; and it was at that moment that he knew deep down that his fate was inescapably doomed by the monstrosity that lurked in the darkest, most twisted depths of his being.
For years, the only thing he longed for was someone’s gentle arm to wrap around him, caressing his forehead with patience and tenderness, wiping away the traces of putrescine that gathered at the corners of his lips, lips that could no longer even allow themselves to articulate a single word. Throughout those years, he clung tightly to the bed that seemed to want to swallow him whole, harbouring the futile hope that someone might look him in the eyes and sense something that was still alive within him, something worth saving.
But who could love him? Who would take the time to peel away those thick layers of pain that enveloped him, until they found some trace of gentle innocence deep inside him? If there was one thing he had learnt from a young age, was not to cling to the feeling of unreality; and yet, a part of him had always longed for it, in vain.
Always in vain.
It was during primary school that he met Naruto. Naruto Uzumaki.
There wasn’t a single person, either inside or outside the school’s half-painted walls, who spoke kindly of Naruto. Naruto was an orphan, with no friends and no family to come home to on cold nights, just like him. Naruto was a boy coping with cruelty, just as he was. But the difference was that within Naruto there was the ability to smile in the face of the harshness that the world offered him and the possibility of returning kindness to those who showed him hatred.
Sasuke couldn't make sense of it, and yet he found it intriguing. “What an idiot,” he would say to himself, though that wasn't really how he felt. Did he envy him for still having kindness in his heart? Or perhaps did he long for the kindness of someone who, deep down, was just like him?
As time went by, Sasuke got used to small routines involving Naruto. The closeness of someone who, without meaning to, could read through his pain. And yet, he never felt the need to open up emotionally to him, never felt the need to reveal his inner world to him; in some way, simply being in his company made him feel accepted.
Sasuke had never felt accepted before.
And that was how feeling close to someone made him feel profoundly inadequate when he looked at himself. Naruto carried the pain just as he did, but Naruto’s heart wasn’t steeped in the same gloom as his. Naruto carried the weight of loneliness, but he hadn’t let that loneliness turn him into a monster.
Monster.
One afternoon, whilst they were both sitting by the lake eating their respective snacks in silence, Naruto’s gaze fixed on Sasuke as he softly uttered the words “I like you”, almost in a whisper, like a prayer that had to be spoken quietly to maintain a semblance of modesty and respect.
Sasuke didn’t reply, but he felt his whole world unwrapped from the bandages of the fractures he lived with, as his whole body began to ache and sting with a new kind of pain he’d never known. Naruto hadn’t expected a reply and simply turned his gaze towards the sunset with a faint blush on his cheeks.
Sasuke thought to himself that he'd never witnessed anything as beautiful as the colour on Naruto's cheeks, which stood in stark contrast against the backdrop of the setting sun; and he automatically felt a wave of pain wash over his joints, accompanied by a deep sense of guilt at even considering the possibility of corrupting the purity of the moment he was witnessing.
– “Why me?” – he couldn't help but ask, his voice tinged with a strained hoarseness.
– “Why wouldn’t I like you?”–the blonde replied with simplicity.
Sasuke wanted to drop dead right then and there. All his life he had desired to be looked at, but being looked at meant being vulnerable to someone else who would want to delve into his innermost thoughts. Sasuke was afraid that Naruto would look too closely at him and feel repulsed.
They sat together in silence for a couple of hours, their hands brushing against each other delicately, almost unconsciously. Neither of them wanted to delve into the depths of their feelings; they didn’t want to say anything else because, as was usual between them, there was no need for further conversation.
That was the last time Sasuke saw Naruto.
Sasuke was aware that Naruto sought out every possible hint of his dampness and traces of his scent that lingered in the air, hoping to find a clue to his whereabouts; that he was concerned about him ¡He loathed Naruto's thoughtfulness! He knew that such kindness in a world full of wickedness was more of a curse than a blessing and he couldn't help but feel the need to protect him. From the world, or from himself? Perhaps from both.
Part of him wanted Naruto to walk away no matter what, to think he was ridiculous for lacking the maturity to accept his confession, so he could go on with his life and find the happiness that Sasuke couldn’t give him but that life owed him. Another, far more selfish part of him yearned for Naruto to find him and strip him of all his pain with his own hands, which felt so delicate in that evening light, that his hands might be able to patiently mend his shattered bones.
He would even beg him to kill him slowly and with his bare hands, regardless of whether they were clean or filthy, as long as he could feel his fingertips taking his life. He would beg him to take pieces of his skin with him, as if they were fabric scraps capable of keeping him warm during cold winter nights, allowing him to feel that kind of warmth in a way his words were unable to. He would beg him to rip out his heart and devour it with his teeth, for only then could he feel within himself what he had buried so deeply for years.
He felt disgusted with himself for even considering abusing Naruto’s affection out of his sick desire for someone to save him, and thanked God Naruto hadn’t been able to find him yet.
It was a morning like any other when Sasuke finally felt overwhelmed by life’s weight; the wounds on his body had already accumulated as evidence of a life that couldn’t find its way and as a declaration of a body satiated with the most abject and excruciating suffering. Sasuke could no longer get out of bed; he didn’t even have the energy to make such an effort. He had dedicated himself in a constant war against himself by starving his body, hoping to kill the entity that had brazenly taken the liberty of inhabiting his body against his will.
Sasuke felt like he was dying, and somehow his thoughts kept returning to Naruto’s noisy, thunderous voice. What an idiot, even at a time like this he had to show up at the worst possible moment in a chain of thoughts that Sasuke wished would leave his mind as quickly as possible to avoid disturbing his memories of the blue-eyed boy.
Maybe loneliness has gradually turned him into a very cringeworthy romantic individual.
He felt his body being eaten away from the inside; it was possible that various parasites had taken up refuge within him and were devouring his flesh. He didn’t feel bad about it; perhaps there was some value in allowing these tiny entities to take advantage of him; maybe that way he could still hold onto at least something within himself. It felt ridiculous to imagine that at one point he possessed abilities that made him a prodigy for his age. They were all a distant memory, stripped of meaning.
Maybe Naruto was better than him after all. Though he was surprised that such a thought crossed his mind again.
Gradually, he noticed his skin peeling away from his body, his eyesight failing, and his ability to perceive physical sensations becoming increasingly more difficult to achieve with each passing moment. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, the accumulated unhealed bruises, or the hunger. In every sense of the word, he felt as if he were dying, and in one way or another, he deserved for it to be this agonizing.
If only he could die today; if life could grant him a wish, that would probably be the most rational one—but not the one he desired above all else, despite everything and despite himself.
– “So this is where you were hiding” – and as if life had granted him his most cherished, unrealistic, and precious wish, he heard that voice he never thought he’d ever hear again.
Naruto.
Sasuke’s first instinct was to cover his face, consumed by a tremendous wave of humiliation and gnawed by the fear that Naruto’s mere gaze could pierce through every layer of shame that covered his epidermis. He didn’t want the blue-eyed boy’s pitying sympathy, but he also didn’t want the slap in the face that would come with receiving his rejection and disdain. So, almost as if his thoughts had been heard in the heavenly court, he felt the other boy’s hands carefully removing his own to meet a gaze that could mean nothing other than one thing: tenderness.
– “Looks like someone might need a shower, doesn’t it?” – he said, his hand still resting on Sasuke’s cheek, who quickly pulled away without being able to utter a word; it was as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs and his words were trapped in some hidden compartment of which he had lost the key. –“Your stomach’s growling. Would you like something to eat?”
There was so much warmth in Naruto's voice and so much tenderness gleaming through his eyes that Sasuke could hardly make sense of it. Was Naruto really stupid enough to not see who was standing right in front of him? Didn't he feel even a little nauseous at the stench and misery of someone who couldn't even bring himself to look him in the eye? All of this seemed ludicrous and, to some extent, a product of sleep deprivation. If it weren’t for the sensation he felt against his skin, which he had already given up for dead, causing a small, pleasant tingle, he would have thought it was just another dream.
And if this was a dream, may God have mercy on his heart and allow him to inhabit it forever.
– “Your wounds look kind of bad. Does it bother you if I take care of them?"
Sasuke only managed to shake his head, indicating that he had no problem with him cleaning them. Maybe it was because he didn’t have the strength to maintain even a semblance of stubbornness, but it was also because, deep down, there was a faint yet voracious desire to accept Naruto’s help.
Even though it hurt, as Naruto carefully cleaned the wounds covering Sasuke’s face and arms, he couldn’t help but notice how clumsy and nervous Naruto was while trying to assist him. It was kind of sweet to see the younger guy's hands trembling as he tried to help him; he wished he could speak to him and tell him not to worry about him, but his voice had left him and he was unable to find it again.
– “You know, I’ve been looking for you for such a long time, Naruto,” – he said after a couple of minutes as he continued with his task – “I’d at least appreciate it if you could say a few words to me in return.”
“I’d like that too, but when there’s so much to say, the words dissolve among the distance between us, Naruto. It’s always been that way,” the black-haired one thought to himself, still unable to return the words. Of course, he felt a little ashamed thinking about all the stress Naruto had gone through while looking for him. Clearly, it bothered him to have Naruto in front of him under such circumstances. But what could he say? Would it be wise to apologize? Should he explain? Or should he remain silent to avoid ruining the moment?
– “Sasuke,” – the blond-haired boy caught his attention – “You could have come to me if you needed help.”
Sasuke denied with his head.
– “Is it because of what I said? I thought we were friends; my feelings shouldn’t have been a barrier preventing you from asking me for a hand. Wasn’t all the time we spent together enough for you to turn to me before things got worse for you? Did my feelings make you so uneasy that you didn’t consider I would have done anything to help you, even if your feelings didn’t reciprocate mine?
Tears began to stream down Naruto’s cheeks, which caught Sasuke so off guard that he managed to find a thread of voice he thought was lost.
– “You’ve got a big mouth as always, Naruto.”
– “See, you are able to communicate.”
– “Why do you like me?”– he asked, just as he did that afternoon.
– “Are you going to ask me the same thing again, Sasuke?”–Naruto sighed as he kept cleaning his wounds carefully.
– “But I really want to know,” he said with a sigh that was almost weary and plaintive. “Naruto, how is it possible that you look at me and don’t feel even a hint of discomfort? How is it possible that you could possibly like me?
– “I’m going to need to remove your shirt to take care of those other wounds. May I?”
With a hint of embarrassment and his cheeks tinged with a faint shade of pink, Sasuke had no choice but to let Naruto proceed.
– “To answer your question, Sasuke,”– Naruto replied as his gaze settled on the boy’s bare torso, covered in bruises of various shades mixed with blue and green – “Would you believe me if I told you that you’re the most beautiful thing my eyes have ever seen?”
– “No”
– “Of course not, you’re headstrong and stupid,” – he said with a slight smirk and a much more fragile touch – “Somehow, I always saw in you that need to be strong for others, and the more I saw it, the more I wanted to get closer, the more I wanted to protect you, even though I never knew exactly from what. I could always see a trace of cautious fragility that drew my attention. You’ve never been like the others, Sasuke; I’ve always noticed something different about you.”
– “It’s because I’m a monster.”
– “Is that what this is about, Sasuke? Do you think you’re a monster?”
– “Get away from me,” – Sasuke pushed Naruto away and tried to get out of bed, but it was pretty much useless because his body didn’t have enough strength, causing Naruto to jump up quickly and grab him by the waist
– “Be careful,” – he whispered in his ear, his hand still on Sasuke’s thin, aching waist.
– “Please, if you love me, stay away from me. Take your things and forget you ever found this place. Don’t tell anyone where I am, and get out of my life forever. Live a happy life and don’t ever let me get close to you. Let me die in peace,” – he replied, his voice trembling from the physical and emotional strain this situation was causing him – “It’s not that our feelings aren’t mutual; it’s that hearing you say you liked me made me feel trapped in despair because I can’t be the person you want me to be. Because if I even put one of my hands near you, I’ll never forgive myself. You don’t understand what I’m saying, Naruto, because you’re naive and a fool, but please, go.”
Naruto let out a small laugh, and Sasuke was left very confused.
– “You’ve got such a big mouth too, Sasuke.”
Naruto’s hand caressed Sasuke’s bare, scarred chest with utmost delicacy, sending a shiver across Sasuke’s spine as he felt a wave of intense embarrassment at being so openly exposed to someone who was staring intently at him. Naruto's hands kept sliding over Sasuke's torso as if he were a piece of clay that Naruto could shape and mold with his fingertips.
Immediately afterward, Naruto dropped to his knees before the black-haired boy as he looked up to admire his figure in the dim sunlight seeping through the wooden roof tiles, which creaked under their own weight. The humiliation Sasuke felt was somewhat amusing, because Naruto felt he had never seen anything so beautiful, and so he had no choice but to fall to his knees to admire the sight.
There was something slightly twisted about gazing at a body carved by pain and finding beauty there, but for Naruto, that was certainly more than possible.
– “Sasuke”
As he gazed at him with unwavering admiration, tracing the contours of his muscles, subtly outlining his curves with the fervent hope of memorizing every fiber of Sasuke's body, with the almost desperate hope that his touch would reveal the collection of scars that adorned him and that through them, some of the love he could offer might seep into Sasuke's soul.
– “Sasuke, you’re magnificent.”
– “Naruto...”
– “Sasuke, how could you possibly think you’re a monster? Do you think your pain makes you one? Do you think there’s something so inherently rotten about you that reduces you to subhuman status?” – Naruto let out a small laugh as he continued to run his hand through his chest.
– “Naruto, you’re an idiot.”
– “Sasuke, you’re the closest thing to a living god on this earth.
Naruto pulled himself up, grabbed Sasuke's face between his hands, and before Sasuke could even protest, crushed his lips against his. The kiss was slow and wet; Naruto wanted to take his time exploring Sasuke with all his senses. His hands kept exploring Sasuke’s bare skin, his nose began to take note of that characteristic scent of Sasuke’s hair (one he could detect from any distance) while his lips and tongue explored him with desperation and eagerness.
– “Naruto,” he let out a moan through clenched teeth.
– “Not now, you’re too hurt,” he whispered. “I can’t take advantage of your current state.”
Sasuke nodded, and in the blink of an eye, Naruto lifted him into his arms as if he were someone he needed to protect.
– “I’ll take care of you, Sasuke,” he said, laying him on the bed before lying behind him with his arms around his waist, pressing him close to his body, unable to bear the thought of him being far from him again.
– “I think I love you, Naruto.”
– “I love you too Sasuke.”