Birth Day | By : twistedsheets Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female Views: 1717 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. However, I DO have the same
birthday as Naruto. XD I'm older though, and I'm
pretty sure I'm not possessed by the Kyuubi.
Author's notes: The very first Naruto fic I
wrote. Be gentle, please. Criticism and comments much appreciated. Done after
much insane thinking and after reading and watching Naruto nonstop. Hit me!
Summary: A mother's thoughts as she gives birth to her only son in blood
and pain and the scent of peonies. Naruto's mother as she gives birth to him.
Birth Day
The pain is constant, rippling through my body like water raging
against the shores in a storm. It gets stronger as time passes, and no matter
how I twist and turn, it remains, clinging to me, spreading, making my body
tremble in its intensity. I could have taken something to ease the pain, but I
had refused. This is my atonement, my salvation.
It is just the two of us, my husband and I,
here in this small hut in the outskirts of the Konohagakure where only candles
serve as our light, where silence reigned, broken only by my moans and groans.
The scent of blood and sweat is heavy in the air, mingled with the sweet scent
of peonies.
Everything is supposed to be a secret, the preparations, the location, hell, even my pregnancy and my marriage are a
secret to the villagers. Only the Sandaime knows of
what was taking place–not Jiraiya-sensei, not
Tsunade-baba, not even Kakashi-kun. Even if they
knew, they wouldn't be here. Yondaime,
my husband, would not allow it. Besides, they would be too busy fighting the Kyuubi.
I heave again as another contraction hits me, forcing another
hoarse moan from my parched, bleeding lips. My sweaty hands clutch the damp
sheets in a death grip. The Kyuubi.
Gods only knew how I hated that creature. Everything was his fault! If he hadn't come...things would have been different!
I lift my head, and I see my husband rise from his seat on the
floor, a towel in hand to wipe the sweat on my forehead. He walks, graceful as
a panther, and as he comes nearer, I could see that he could not meet my eyes. Why
won't you look at me? Before I knew what I was
doing, I had raised my hand, and slapped him across the face.
He didn't flinch, but I feel a brief
satisfaction when I saw him look at me, azure eyes clouded with pain. Part of
me wanted to say, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry', throw my arms around him, and
sob, for us to share the grief, as a husband and wife should in a time like
this. But I didn't do that. I want him to see, I want
him to acknowledge what was happening. Don't
turn your eyes away from me. Please don't. Don't deny it. I feel so alone...
Our gazes hold, blue clashing with my
gray ones. Arashi, I whisper his name. He
takes my hand, entwining his fingers with mine. Such
strong hands… He
always had strong hands, but they were gentle as well, especially when we made
love, or when he touched me. I remember his hands touching my
swollen belly with infinite care, as if he feared he’d
hurt me.
I grip his fingers tightly as pain grips my body again, my
contractions peaking.
Push, my body commands me, but I resist. I could not. How could
I, knowing what lay ahead for my child? To know that as soon as he slips from
my body, as soon as the cord that binds us is cut, a demon would claim him as
his own, and I, his mother, could do nothing to protect him?
I remember when my husband told me of his plan to defeat the Kyuubi once and for all. I could remember the bleak tone of
his voice, the light going out of his once bright blue eyes. I could remember
my numb silence, my hands going to my swollen belly, covering it, as if to
shield my unborn child.
It was my duty as a shinobi to defend my village, and it was an
honor to sacrifice oneself for others, my teachers in the academy used to say
to us.
Duty? Honor? What
are these to a mother? How could honor and duty compare to a child of your
flesh and blood? They were only cold words against the warmth of your child's
body as he lay on your chest, feeling him breathe.
But in the end, I knew I would do it. I don't understand why I would do it. Maybe it was the sight
of the dead bodies buried daily in mass graves, or the injured brought to us
after a battle or attack, or the smell of burnt wood and flesh filling the air
as the Kyuubi sweeps into our village, tails lashing,
burning, killing and destroying everything in its path. How could I bring forth
my child to a world like that?
My body tightens as I brace for the push, and I scream as I did.
Then I could feel something expanding, and something wet and slippery sliding
through my legs. The metallic scent of blood fills the air once again, mixing
with the lingering scent of peonies.
Blood and pain and the scent of
peonies. These were to be my memories of my child's birth. That,
and the sound of his strong cry echoing throughout the hut. Boy, I hear Arashi whisper in my ear.
I feel myself weaken, my eyelids drooping, strength draining from
my body. I turn to Arashi to look at our son, but my
gaze turns hazy and dim. No, no. I want to
see my son. No. I must wake–
Author's notes: So, how was it? Bad? Horrible? Overdramatic? I don't think Naruto's mother willingly gave up her child to
be given as the holder of the Kyuubi. I think she
would have fought. And her slapping Yondaime...well, that was explained. Yondaime's
name I picked up somewhere.
Peonies: Peonies or botan in Japanese, by the
way, grow during...summer, I think and they can hasten childbirth. Naruto was
born on October, which was makes it autumn that time.
I think you can draw conclusions from that. ::grin::
Please read and review. Thanks for reading! Belated
Happy Birthday to Naruto. XD
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