How could you not love someone who had been your salvation, your light at the darkest point of your life?

You couldn't not be — as a simple answer — but the harrowing guilt of falling in love with the person who'd gone and slaughtered his kin was not easy.

The feeling of being a traitor to your best friend was no joking matter.

It was crushing. To have dreamt of wanting to spend your life with them and then for them to just destroy it. It was killing.

But he had a reason.

He always had a reason. Naruto knew it better than anyone else.

Or at least he thought so. Hoped so.

Be the reason simple kindness, familiarity or comfort.

Naruto had been but a child when he had been cornered by some older boys who'd laughed at his face. Called him mean, disgusting even, names and then gotten physically abusive.

At that time, the blond Jinchuuriki had been small, so pitifully small, malnourished and maltreated. All for the reason he knew not of.

Being cornered and helpless, the boy had chosen to curl up to himself and take it. Take the abuse.

But then, just when he had thought that he was all alone, his salvation had come.

Donning the most beautiful porcelain mask — call him biased and all he could care less — in the world, his light had come.

Voice cold as ice, eyes frightening, the person approached them, making the kids flee with their tails tucked between their legs.

Naruto had let himself relax, for the briefest moment. For those eyes had looked at him with genuine concern and malice-free gaze.

Something that was foreign to him.

The weasel-masked ninja had knelt in front of him, fringes loose and dark and so very beautiful.

Holding out a hand to him, the weasel had offered him something so valuable. So pure.

It had been a helping hand. Held out to him for the first time — perhaps.

With a disbelieving gaze, the blond had stared at the hand offered to him. He had been hesitant.

“Naruto-kun,” the weasel had whispered. “Let me help you.“ He said. And for the first time in his life, Naruto had taken the hand, all his breath stolen as he looked at the weasel mask.

“Thank you,” he had whispered back, voice broken and choked. Tears had streamed down his eyes.

Something he had abhorred, been despised for. Tears.

Naruto had flinched at the gentle hand that has wiped them off. There had been no judgement in his eyes.

A relief that had washed over him.

Without another word, the weasel-masked ninja had held him closer to himself and whisked him away.

Away from the hatred, from pain.

And for the first time, Naruto had been free.

—

Having loved Itachi as much as he had, Naruto was pained by the sight of the ANBU's state. Defeated. Exhausted.

Ready to give up.

Without a moment to think, Naruto had thrown his arms around the older boy and held him close.

“Itachi-san,” he'd whispered. Itachi had hugged him even closer. His body had been wrecked with sobs, hysterical to say the least.

“I can't,” He'd spoken in broken sentences. But just enough for the Jinchuuriki to understand. “I can't, can't...“

“Then save what you can,” Naruto had consoled him. “Even if it is the only thing you save.“

Oh, how he regretted his words.

Had he understood those words, he would have done something.

Surely.

He had been all but horrified at the sight of Itachi's blood-ridden person. The way he had come to his house's window at the dead of the night. Tears in his eyes and down his cheeks.

He had come to bid Naruto farewell.

Not their first and surely not their last.

Naruto had held him tighter, wishing things hadn't come to this. Wishing that this wasn't the end.

From then on he had strove. Strove to move forward. Strong enough to bring back the first Uchiha who'd left his life.

The next day, when the damning news had spread like wild fire, Itachi's name become a taboo, a hushed whisper.

At the academy, the least he could do for his first and dearest friend's brother was divert their attention from him.

He didn't know how to comfort. Having not received much of it.

Being who Naruto was, he had began his seemingly insane dream of being the Hokage. The most powerful of them all.

Just so that he could bring Itachi back.

His Itachi back.

—

When Itachi had appeared once more, looking a little more worse for wear, Naruto had all but jumped into his arms.

That had been the time when Itachi and warned him of him coming to kidnap Naruto some time later.

Naruto had nodded, not in the least bothered.

Jiraiya-sensei would be there to have his back. Right?

Naruto shook himself awake of his own thoughts and focused on Itachi, the Itachi who was by his side.

Itachi smiled at him, a small quirk of his lips. It was enough for him to see.

Happiness thrummed through his veins as the Jinchuuriki returned the Uchiha's smile.

Slowly, Itachi stepped away from him, extending an elegant hand for him to take, the Uchiha murmured tenderly.

“Accompany me, for the old time's sake?“ he asked, tilting his head slightly.

And who was Naruto to deny him that?

Gently, the Jinchuuriki took Itachi's hand in his own and let the Akatsuki member take him up.

They jumped from one roof to another until they found a perfect spot, right under the full moon, as the breeze blew Itachi's fringes and Naruto's spikey hair, the two of them — even for just a moment — forgot where they stood.

Opposite to each other.

As they looked at each other, the tenderness, the longing in Itachi's eyes, the ache in them, pained Naruto.

Forcing himself to look away, Naruto let out a shaky sigh. “Ita, Itachi...“ He whispered, hugging himself. “Why are we here?“

“Naruto,” Itachi started, staring at the side of his face. Naruto could feel his gaze boring on his face. “The moon is beautiful, isn't it?“

Naruto stilled, slowly turning to face Itachi, he felt tears fill his eyes. He hugged himself tighter, letting a warm smile spill on his face as he nodded.

“I can die happy.“

Itachi pursed his lips, a smile alight in his onyx eyes. He drew closer, their noses almost touching. “But why is it that I can't touch it?“

“Because,” Naruto breathed out, holding his gaze. “It too far away. Yet, it's close enough if you desire.“

“Moon, I suppose, I always did want it. But perhaps I was too scared.“ Itachi closed his eyes with a small smile. “Say, Naruto, will the moon let me touch it with the hands that have sinned?“

Naruto looked down at Itachi's hands, reaching out to grasp them in his own hands, he answered. “The moon never cared.“

As the wind blew, stars twinkled, Itachi's dark fringes fluttered, caressing Naruto's face.

“Then, will it allow me this?“ He asked, leaning forward, his lips touched Naruto's.

Naruto squeezed his eyes shut, a thousand emotions fleeting in his heart as his mind turned blank.

Oh how much he had desired this. Gripping Itachi's hands tighter, he kissed back, moving his lips in sync with those against his own.

A while later, Itachi broke the kiss, both gasping as their hearts raced in tandem with each other.

Freeing his hands out of Naruto's, the Uchiha raised his hand and gently poked Naruto's forehead with his fore and central finger before resting his forehead against the blond's.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered before bursting into a murder of crows and flying away.

Naruto watched the birds flew away from him from the rooftop and slowly touched the place Itachi had poked, residual warmth on his forehead along side the pleasant sensation of soft yet burning kiss.

One day, he would become a Hokage. One day, he would bring back the Uchiha he loved.

The Uchiha who loved him back.

—

It had been a foolish hope, he realised as he watched Itachi standing in front of him, looking exhausted. On the brink of death even.

And from the look in his eyes, Naruto knew.

He was getting ready to die.

Die at the hands of his little brother. The person he held above himself, above everything, above Naruto.

And Naruto didn't care. Lies.

He did. His heart twisted with pain and jealousy as he let the reality, the end of their relationship, their love, settle in.

He let himself collapse into Itachi's arms, let the man carry him to the bed of his room. He held the man close. Listening to his heartbeats, wanting to commit them to his memory.

Raising his head, he looked at Itachi's face. He saw the remorse in his eyes, he saw the guilt, the love.

Shaking his head, he broke away from the Uchiha and fetched a camera with him a moment later.

Holding it in front of the man, he let himself smile through the tears.

“Let's take a photo?“ He suggested. “For old times sake.“ He wanted to keep at least something of Itachi's. Something that only they would know of.

Without much protest, Itachi agreed, indulging the blond as much as he could. They took a lot of photos. With them wrapped in each other's arms. With them kissing, smiling brightly at the camera. Through the pain, the tears, the knowledge of inevitable.

The knowledge that threatened to break the both of them.

“Naruto,” Itachi whispered against the Jinchuuriki's neck. “Allow me?“

Naruto nodded, “Please. Itachi, please do it. For once,” he pushed their lips together. “Forget about your little brother. Let it be just us. You and me, no one else.“

Itachi chuckled, an unfairly sinful depth in his voice. “With you I don't think of anyone else, Naruto. I couldn't be bothered.“

Naruto was fifteen when he let the sole love of his life bed him. Take him. Begged for him. Cried in his arms.

He let Itachi's soothing whispers deceive him, he allowed his words to quell him. He allowed Itachi's voice to lull him into sleep, resting soundly in his arms knowing that he was loved, safe.

Because during that moment, that night when their love sang, Naruto realised that there was no stopping Itachi.

No matter what he did, no matter what he said, it would be futile, it would be a useless endeavour.

So, he let Itachi dig his own heart out from him, Naruto let Itachi present his heart bare to him in the way the Uchiha knew.

He let it happen.

The following morning, as expected, Itachi had disappeared, leaving Naruto with a fear in his heart and a bad taste in his mouth.

Pressing a hand on his chest, the Jinchuuriki leaned on the headboard, a duvet covering his lower body, as he winced at the slight ache that shot through his rear.

“Itachi...“ He gulped, tears filling his eyes. He had a bad, very bad, premonition in his heart. “Please,” he begged to whoever above was listening. “Please be safe...“

It was useless, he let Itachi walk to his death.

Author has something to say:

Boruto sucks, apparently. So I'm going to write my own stuff and roll with it. No Aliens, instead we have royalty, western world and what not. Also, characterisation sucks, OOC characters warning