Depressed Naruto

I see him too. Sai. Fake smile. Creepy book. I hated him at first. Cold bastard who didn't care. He called Sasuke trash and I almost punched him. But I saw emptiness in his eyes. Like me. Like the old me. Root raised him. No name. No feelings. No childhood. Just missions and that painted smile. He didn't know how to laugh or cry or say "friend." I taught him. Me. The class clown. I told him about bonds. About ache. He listened. Then he started drawing. Stick figures with big smiles. He gave me one once: "This is us. Team Seven." I almost cried. He lost his brother too. The only one who loved him. Never said goodbye. He's still awkward. Still weird. But he stayed. When Sasuke left. When Sakura cried. When I broke. He just stood there. Present. Solid. I love him for that. Not like Sasuke. Like the brother I never had. He taught me family is about choosing each other. Every day. He chose us. I'll never forget. I wish I could make him truly happy. Not the fake smile. The real one he doesn't know he has. Maybe someday. We'll eat ramen. Laugh at his jokes. I'll tell him: "You're not alone. Never were." He'd call me dramatic. Draw me crying. I'd laugh. That's us.

I see him too. Kakashi-sensei. Masked. One eye always smiling like he knew something I didn't. I thought he was lazy. Unreliable. But he was never late when it mattered. He caught me. Saved me. And I never said thank you. He lost everyone. Father. Obito. Rin. Minato-sensei. All dead. And he kept going. Kept smiling. Kept training me like I was worth his time. I remember the bell test. He saw something in me. Gave me a chance. When Sasuke left, I thought he'd blame me. He didn't. Just said: "Don't carry it alone." And I broke. Because he knew. Knew what it was like to carry the dead. To blame yourself. He trained me for hours in the rain. Never gave up. Never lost patience. He's broken too. Hides it behind jokes and books. Like me. Like Sakura. I think about his guilt. Obito's eye in his socket. I want to say: "You saved us. You're not a failure." But he'd laugh. Kakashi-sensei. My lazy, brilliant, broken teacher. He gave me a team. A family. I love him. Not like a father. Like he taught me to stand. I wish I could carry his pain. So he could rest. Just one day. But he'd never let me. Just ruffle my hair and say he's fine. He's not fine. Neither am I. We pretend. That's what shinobi do.

I see him too. Not the Hokage I want to be. Not the hero. Iruka-sensei. The first person who ever looked at me like I mattered. Before Pervy Sage. Before Sakura. Before Sasuke. There was him. With that scar across his nose and that warm smile that made me feel like I wasn't a monster. I remember the day he bought me ramen. First time anyone ever did. I cried into the bowl and he pretended not to notice. He always pretended. To make me feel normal. To make me feel human. When Mizuki tricked me, Iruka protected me. Took a shuriken for me. Bleeding. Smiling. Saying: "You're not the fox. You're Naruto." Those words saved me. Kept me from drowning in hate. He lost his parents to the Nine-Tails. The thing inside me. The thing that killed them. And he still loved me. Still believed in me. How? How could he look at me and not see their faces? Not see the monster that tore his family apart? I asked him once. He laughed. Ruffled my hair. Said: "Because I see you, Naruto. Just you." I don't deserve him. I never did. He gave me everything. A reason to try. A reason to stay. A reason to become Hokage. And I repaid him by almost dying a hundred times. By making him worry. By coming to his classroom with bandages and fake smiles. He never scolded me. Just sighed. Made me tea. Told me to eat properly. He's not flashy. Not legendary. But he's my father. The only one I ever knew. The one who stayed when everyone else left. The one who saw a demon and chose to see a child. I wish I could tell him. Tell him how much he means. How he saved me before anyone else. How he's the reason I can still love. The reason I didn't become Gaara. Didn't become pain. But I can't. Words are too small. Too stupid. So I just visit. Eat his cooking. Let him scold me. Let him smile. And I think: "Thank you. For seeing me. For staying. For being my first home." Iruka-sensei. My scarred, kind, ordinary hero. I love you. I'll never say it. But you know. You always know.

I see her too. Not the Sakura who punches mountains. The one with pink hair and tears for Sasuke. I thought she was weak. I was wrong. She's the strongest. Not in power. In heart. She never stopped loving him. Even when he gave nothing. Even when he almost killed her. I found her on that bench in the rain. "He's gone," she said. I sat with her. Said nothing. She loved him more than I did. I loved him like a brother. She loved him like he was her only sun. Through all the darkness. All the years. I was jealous. Stupid. Because she could cry and I couldn't. I had to be strong. Pretend. But Sakura never pretended. She cried. Screamed. Punched the ground bloody. Then got up. Kept training. Kept believing. Now she smiles when he's around. But I see her hands tremble when he leaves. Her eyes follow him like he might vanish. Like she'd be left alone forever. She's terrified. Like me. She hides it better. She took care of me when I was falling apart. Made me eat. Made me train. Never complained. I owe her everything. She loved the same boy I loved but never made me feel small. She stayed. Even when Sasuke didn't. Even when I didn't deserve it. She's still waiting. Still loving someone who broke her. I want to scream: "You deserve better!" But I'm the same. Two idiots who fell for a ghost. That's why we're friends. She's why I'm still here. Why I didn't drown. Why I can smile. I'll never tell her. She'd punch me. I'd laugh. Maybe that's love too. The quiet kind. The kind that stays. Sakura. My pink-haired disaster. I love her. Not like Sasuke. Like she kept me human. I wish I could save her. But I can't save myself.

I see his face everywhere.
Not the Sasuke from now. The one from the hospital roof. The one who walked away in that white cloak while I screamed until my throat bled. He didn't even look back.
I thought I could save him.
Stupid. You can't save someone who wants to fall. I chased him for years. Broke bones. Almost gave myself to Kurama. All for him. All for Sasuke.
And he still left. Chose revenge. Chose hatred. Chose everything but me.
That hurts more than any wound. Because I loved him. Not like a brother. Not like a friend. Like the other half of my soul. Without him, I'm just noise. A sun without a moon.
I remember the Valley. The first time. He stood over me, Sharingan spinning, and I thought: "This is it. He'll kill me." And I was okay with it. If he'd stay. If he'd just see me.
He didn't kill me.
But he might as well have. Because part of me died that day. The part that never came back. I smile. I train. I eat ramen. But at night, I think about him. His voice. His cold hands. His hair falling over his eyes.
I dreamed he'd come back and say: "I was wrong, Naruto. I need you."
He never did.
Now he's here. Fighting beside me. I should be happy. But sometimes I look at him and see a ghost. The shadow of the boy who shielded me from Haku. Who called me a fool but saved me.
That boy is gone.
And I'm still waiting for him to return.
Maybe I need to let go. Accept the Sasuke who's here. Broken. Quiet. Carrying guilt like skin.
I don't know how. I don't know how to stop needing him. Every time he leaves on a mission, I choke. Every time he's late, I think: "He left again. He left me again." And I'm twelve, screaming his name into the rain.
He's my best friend.
He's my wound.
He's everything I can't have and can't release.
And I hate him for that. For making me love him this much.
But I won't stop. Never.
Because he's Sasuke. My Sasuke. The only one who knew loneliness—until we found each other.
And I'll wait forever.
Even if forever breaks me.

I keep seeing the rain. Not the rain outside—that rain. The one that soaked through my jacket when Shikamaru told me. His voice was flat, careful. "Pervy Sage... he's gone." And I just stood there. Like the same brat who used to scream at him for peeping. Like the idiot who thought he was invincible.

He wasn't.

He was just him. Loud. Brilliant. Annoying. The man who threw me off cliffs. Who bought me popsicles. Who smelled like sake and cigarettes, and I'd give anything to smell that again. To hear him laugh. To see that stupid grin.

But he's not coming back.

I sat on that bench for hours. My hands shook. These hands that threw Rasengan after Rasengan—they couldn't do a damn thing. They couldn't pull him out of that lake. Tsunade sat next to me. She didn't speak. Neither did I. There was nothing to say.

I keep thinking about the last time. He was walking away, red coat flapping, and waved over his shoulder like it was nothing. I yelled something stupid. He laughed. Kept walking.

Did he know? Did he see my face at the end? Did he think, "That idiot kid. He's going to be so mad"? Or did he just let go? Finally tired. Carrying the world long enough.

I'll never know. That's the worst part.

I'm supposed to be the hero. The one who never gives up. That's my ninja way. But what good is it when he gave up? When he stayed behind so I could live? Like I was worth more than him.

I'm not.

He was the Legendary Toad Sage. My master. My father. My disgusting, beautiful old man.

And I wasn't there.

I go to the Memorial Stone. His name isn't there yet. But I talk to him anyway. "I'll end this cycle. I'll bring peace. I'll be Hokage. And I'll write a better book than yours. So everyone knows who you really were."

But the words taste like ash.

Because I know—I'm doing it for him. So his death wasn't meaningless. So I can look in the mirror and not hate myself. So I can wake up drenched in sweat and say, "He didn't die for nothing."

Some nights—like tonight—I don't belie