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Ding dong.
"Sakura-chan."
Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong.
“Hm?”
The girl doesn't look up from her book, hums quietly in the echo of the old church.
“Have you, like, uh,” Naruto scratches his cheek with his index finger, stares at the ceiling high above him in colorful, dirty glass, “do you ever look at someone and... do you ever look at someone you don’t know but feel like—like you do know them. Like, you feel… you look at them and it’s… it’s warm and familiar and like you know them.”
Naruto stretches up. The ceiling is taciturn and so out of reach.
The ceiling is old, and above everything he knows, and looks like an infinite pool of sky and clouds; dark and holding the entire secrets of the universe in its beauty, and out of reach.
The ceiling is so out of reach, but sometimes, sometimes, it feels like, if he really puts on an effort, if he seriously tries, he'll reach, he'll touch—
“Are you high right now?” Sakura asks, quirking an eyebrow at him.
Naruto turns his head at her. “What? No!”
She squints. Then, she tilts her head; her hair is short and messy and her eyes are so green.
“…Oh.” Ding dong. “You’re being serious.”
“Yes!”
“So… you feel like that? With someone?”
Naruto's mouth opens. “Yes.”
She hums. "Like a long lost friend, maybe?"
Naruto crosses his arms behind his nape. "But I haven't seen them before."
"But you feel like that." Sakura prods. "Are you sure you don’t know them?”
Naruto thinks.
Fragments of striking black hair; dark ink spilling on paper; pitch-black skies without stars.
Dark eyes, rainy clouds, a husky voice.
Naruto.
"I don't know..." Ding dong. Naruto. Ding dong. "I think I don't..."
Pretty, delicate features. A melody singing, sad and sorrowful; ocean waves breaking into the shore.
A smile.
“Maybe they’re a childhood friend or something… you said your memories from your childhood are blurry, didn't you?”
Naruto.
Rough hands. Gentle eyes. A soothing hum.
A watery laugh.
"Is it the new guy?"
Naruto stares at her, mouth hanging open.
She snorts. "You were staring so hard this morning I thought your eyes would fall out."
His face warms up. "I wasn't staring! I was just—"
She quirks an eyebrow.
"...Looking?"
She closes her book and grins, cheeky. "I thought you just found him attractive, but is it more than that, then?"
"I don't know. It just feels like..."
Like.
"Why don't you talk to him?"
"I'm..." Scared. "I don't think he's the talkative type."
"You never cared about that, though," she says, and gets up. "You can talk for both of you."
"Hey!"
She laughs, then shrugs. "If it matters to you, try something. You'll never know."
Naruto looks up.
The ceiling is so out of reach, but sometimes, sometimes, it feels like, if he really puts on an effort, if he seriously tries, he'll reach, he'll touch—
.
.
.
He's falling.
It's pitch-black. A sky without stars.
Naruto.
Naruto, Naruto, Naruto.
A sky without stars.
A watery laugh.
It feels lonely.
.
.
.
"It wasn't meaningless. To me, you have become my closest friend."
.
.
.
Somehow, it always felt like Naruto was looking for something. Or someone.
It's weird. He's happy with his life; but it always feels like something is lacking.
It's weird.
The day that guy showed up at his school, that emotion burned up into ashes.
.
.
.
"Your soulmate is looking at you right now."
Naruto's entire face flames up.
"Don't call him that!"
Sakura laughs. "Well, maybe he is."
Naruto groans, and rests his head in his desk. His stomach feels all bubbly.
"... Is he looking?"
Sakura snorts. "You're quite interested."
He pouts.
She grins, elated.
"Yes. He is."
Naruto's heart hammers in his chest.
Naruto.
Naruto, Naruto, Naruto.
Gentle eyes. A husky voice. A cheeky grin. Rough hands.
A sky without stars.
Naruto.
He glances over his shoulder, and they lock eyes across the classroom. It feels electric, burning, aching.
His heart is naked. His soul is open. He's bleeding out.
Naruto.
He wants... he wants...
The guy turns around, and the connection is lost, but his blood rushes in his ears and his throat closes up and his hands tremble.
And it feels like he's falling.
He looks up. Stretches an arm.
The ceiling is crystal clear but so out of reach.
The ceiling is so out of reach, but sometimes, sometimes, it feels like, if he really puts on an effort, if he seriously tries, he'll reach, he'll touch—
Sakura breathes. "...What was that?"
Naruto blinks.
"I don't know."
.
.
.
"Have you talked to him?"
"No."
"Weird. Someone you actively won't bother."
Naruto shoots her a look.
"I'm joking," she says, eyes softening, "but it's weird to see you so scared about talking to someone."
"I'm not scared."
She quirks an eyebrow, but doesn't say anything else.
You are. A voice echoes inside him.
.
.
"That time... I should have... called out to him... I thought about it over and over."
.
.
.
There’s something about him.
Naruto doesn’t know what. He’s not sure why he feels like his heart is going to rip apart every time he’s around. He doesn’t know why his stomach goes crazy, like there’s a million butterflies inside flappping their wings. He doesn’t know why he has this sudden urge to ask if he’s okay.
It’s all weird. It scares him.
Why does he feel so viscerally just by looking at him?
Why doesn't he seem like he cares? Is it just Naruto that feels like this? Is it?
Why?
Why, why, why?
.
.
.
"I dream about him."
Sakura stares. The more she stares, the warmer Naruto's face grows.
"...Is it that weird?" he shifts.
She quirks an eyebrow, "so are you talking about wet dreams with me now?"
He blushes to the tip of his fingers. "They're not like that!"
Sakura's eyebrows meet her hairline.
He puckers his lips. "Seriously! I mean, he is pretty, but it's not... Ah!"
He buries his head in his hands.
"I don't even remember most of them. And it's never something important, but they feel important, you know?"
He's falling.
Naruto, Naruto, Naruto.
Gentle eyes. Pretty fingers. Ink-black hair between Naruto's fingers. Soft pink cheeks.
Naruto, Naruto, Naruto.
A sky without stars.
"It's just..." A soft smile. Soft eyes. Soft lips.
"Look!" Sakura points at him, "You're thinking of something dirty!"
Naruto frowns. "I'm not!"
"You are!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Then why are you so red?!"
"I—"
"If you want me to explain it I'm not sure how to put it..." He's bleeding. "It's just that when I hear you blabbering about carrying everything on your shoulders... I can kinda... feel the pain too." I love you. "It really hurts," He's bleeding. His heart is naked. "It hurts so much," I love you. "That there is no way I can just ignore it!"
I love you.
He's bleeding.
I love you.
He's hurting.
I love you.
He's burning.
"I..."
The ceiling is so out of reach, but sometimes, sometimes, it feels like, if he really puts on an effort, if he seriously tries, he'll reach, he'll touch—
"You know," Sakura says, but her voice is gentle, and her eyes are so green. "You should really talk to him."
.
.
.
The only thing that does last when he wakes up is a sense of loss.
.
.
.
It's raining. The old church is cold, and gray, and smells like petrichor and grass.
"Sakura-chan—"
Naruto stops, piles of books precariously hanging from his arm, and—
"Oh."
It's him.
Him.
Dark eyes look up at him. He looks so small in the big space; the wooden walls too big for him. And Naruto wants, and wants, and wants.
What does he want?
"I—" Naruto's tongue feels heavy. His heart is going to rip apart; he's pretty sure the guy can hear; tender and bleeding and open and naked in the echo of the cathedral. Too big for his own chest. "Sorry, I thought Sakura—Ah."
His hands are sweaty. His books fall to the ground.
It's him.
"Hn," he huffs, looking at the mess Naruto made, and the corner of his lips tug up infinitesimally; "Usuratonkachi."
Naruto's entire body burns up.
He's bleeding; he's aching; he's yearning; he's hurting.
Are you my something?
Naruto opens his mouth.
Are you that someone I've been looking for?
Why do I feel like I love you so much it hurts?
Why I feel so sad when I look at you?
Are you my someone?
Why do I feel so broken, so open, so exposed?
Why do I feel like I know you? Why do I feel like I want to hug you and never let go?
Why, why, why?
A sky without starts. A ceiling out of reach. A watery laugh.
A soothing voice.
Usuratonkachi.
He's bleeding; I love you; he's open; I love you; he's hurting; I love you.
"I—" his voice cracks. He's yearning. He's bleeding. He's hurting.
Dark eyes look at him.
A sky without stars.
So endless, so pretty, warmer than expected.
A single shooting star, a wish so sincere it makes his chest open and his hands tremble.
Sasuke.
The ceiling is so out of reach.
Ding dong.
The ceiling is so out of reach, but sometimes, sometimes, it feels like, if he really puts on an effort, if he seriously tries, he'll reach, he'll touch—
Sasuke.
Gentle eyes. Soft lips. Tender hearts bleeding together.
A love so endless that's unmeasurable.
Sasuke. Sasuke. Sasuke.
His voice cracks, and in that void, the guy looks up—bleeding, yearning, hurting—and something new fills it up.
It's weird, but, somehow, it always felt like Naruto was looking for something.
Or someone.
It's weird. He's happy with his life; but it always feels like something was lacking.
He's falling.
It's weird.
The day that guy showed up at his school, that emotion burned up into ashes.
Are you my someone?
"Have we met each other before?"
Gentle eyes burning even brighter than the stars. Soft lips tugging up in a small smile. A soothing voice breaking Naruto's ribcage open; making him bleed and yearn and endless. "I had the same feeling."