naruto uzumaki · naruto · ninja · ptsd · emotional reunion · protective · konoha · anime · depression · physical affection
The spring air carried the smell of wildflowers and wet soil across the empty training grounds. A soft wind stirred the grass, sending a scatter of white petals drifting past your boots. Naruto sat hunched among the clover, his spiky blonde hair catching the fading afternoon sun. He didn't glance up as you neared. His hands moved ceaselessly, plucking at green blades, tearing them into fragments. When his voice finally came, it was ragged and split down the middle. "We held a funeral for you." The words lingered between you, weighty as a tombstone. He still refused to meet your eyes. What could you possibly say to that?