Never Meant To Win

Warnings: Possible language. And I might slip some underlying slash in there (just for the fun of it), so if you're completely homophobic, I suggest you turn around. Rated T—no 'lemons' whatsoever.

I prepared myself for what I knew would be my final day on earth. I had nothing left to live for, unlike Naruto. I had no family. I had no friends left, due to my betrayal. I had left Orochimaru, and I had killed Itachi. I wanted to be killed by the hands of Naruto. I needed to die, to feel as if I had somehow made up for all of the mistakes I had made in the past.

And the only way I could possibly ever atone for that was to prove that good triumphed over evil. That Naruto could beat me, with purely his own power (possibly along with the Kyuubi's power, I'm not sure if he would use it or not) against mine and Orochimaru's power would prove that, through strong will and determination, an ambitious person could overtake someone who was a 'natural genius'. I would show the people of Konoha that their way of living paid off eventually, and hopefully, I would inspire those that were like me so long ago to become better people.

I decided to leave my hair limp and falling around my eyes. It made me look darker, and gave off the vibes that I was evil. My skin was already a translucent white, as I hadn't seen much sun in the past five years. Most of my fighting had been done in the Mist, and most of my training had been done in a dungeon. Neither place was somewhere to get a tan.

There were dark bags underneath my eyes. For the past week, since I sent Naruto, who was currently the Sixth Hokage, a challenge letter, I haven't slept much. Some of it was anticipation of the battle, but most of the anticipation came from the fact that I would be seeing him in the first time in nearly five years. Despite his greatest efforts, he hadn't gotten anywhere near me, due to the cautiousness of Orochimaru.

I had heard many rumors (all of the true, I was certain) about Naruto. For one thing, he had given up on Sakura Haruno, and was instead, chasing after a much better prey—Hinata Hyuuga. I, myself, have always considered Hinata to be one of the most beautiful girls in Konoha—she had a kind of subtle, shy beauty that one would have to basically throw in her face in order to prove to her she was, in fact, a gorgeous woman. Unlike the other conceited girls, she was worth time.

But not from me. I didn't deserve anyone—I was born to die alone, after killing my brother. In that fight, I had been the 'good'. In this fight, however, I was the 'evil'. And good triumphs over evil—always.

I needed to die.

----

Just as I suspected, Naruto set up the fight to be fair. He cleared out a large circular area in the forest, with nearly every Konoha citizen surrounding us. Naruto had ordered the ANBU not to interfere with the fight, no matter what happened. When I walked up to him, we exchanged a look. It was more of a glare, but behind each of our dirty looks, we could tell that the other didn't want to hurt their 'best friend'.

Sometimes, I hope that Naruto doesn't consider me his best friend. Certainly, he would always be mine. But, hopefully, by now, Naruto had gotten closer to someone else, say Hinata, Sakura, or even perhaps Lee.

We stretched out our arms towards each other, in a similar motion. We knew what the other was planning to do immediately—we weren't even planning on tiring the other out, as would happen in a real ninja fight, not a staged on, such as this.

Simultaneously, without uttering a word, we began gathering power. My Chidori had changed vastly—it was no longer the exact replica of the jutsu Kakashi had taught me. I had tweaked it, perfected it, and added Orochimaru's power to it. Now, it was silent, which was helpful if one wanted to ambush someone else. It was also darker, and instead of giving off light, it appeared to suck the light inside of it, as if it were solar-powered and hungry for the light.

Naruto's Rasengan had changed as well. The last time I had seen it, it had been a small ball of blue chakra that required two clones to make. Now, it had also been changed. I noted that Naruto wasn't using the Kyuubi's power at all, which did terrify me. For one thing, the Rasengan was now much larger than it had been before. For another thing, he no longer needed his clones to make it. Now, the Rasengan seemed to be a ball of pure white light, of pure power emanating from his palm.

We each grabbed our right wrist with our left hand, something that was originally, only mine. In the same instant, we charged forward, our legs carrying us as fast towards the other as possible. There was no attempt to block the attack from the other—we simply used all of our power to attack the other. It was as if we had planned out the attack from the beginning. But, no—my note had simply read, "Naruto. I will be coming to Konoha in a week. We will see who is stronger, once and for all." I didn't even sign it—he would know who it was from.

As we lunged forward, I could see the feral look on Naruto's face. This time, it was totally unoccupied by Kyuubi chakra or influence. My face was calm, though my jaw was clenched. His look was like he had unleashed a raw power inside of him, as if he had just suddenly snapped mentally. He was going all out, because this fight meant so much more to him than it did me—I was quite relieved at this.

I felt the force of the Rasengan slam into my torso, just as my Chidori hit Naruto's chest. I don't know how he felt—I had never personally been on the receiving end of a Chidori—but I knew that it felt like a large ball of burning chakra was literally drilling me. It was pushing and twirling against my torso. I sputtered slightly, and I knew before I even looked that it wasn't spittle that flew out of my mouth, but blood.

The pain I felt from the Rasengan made the few seconds I spent in close contact with Naruto seem like an eternity. However, the brief second or two passed, and soon, I was flying across the clearing—which now, somehow, resembled a deep crater in the ground, due to the sheer immensity of the forces of the Rasengan and the Chidori combined.

I landed hard. The wind was knocked out of my lungs, and I couldn't inhale at all for a few seconds. I could feel my consciousness slipping away from me, as the spots of light were starting to become outnumbered by the areas of blackness. I had very little energy left, but I needed to be certain. I pulled myself across the ground towards Naruto—no one interfered, but instead, all watched in silence. I couldn't quite crawl, so it took me nearly a minute to get to Naruto's side.

When I was close enough to examine his face, I collapsed. My energy had completely left my body. My last sight, before I thought I was going to die, was Naruto's unmoving, limp body.

----

I woke up to lights burning my retinas. I thought, at first, that this was just the beginning to a ride in hell—and surely, if there were someplace like that in the afterlife, I'd be spending at least some portion of my eternity in hell—but then I saw an angel. Of course, after my mind became more stable, I knew that it wasn't a real angel. In fact, it was someone I knew… but I couldn't place the name, even after nearly five minutes of consciousness. The bright, pink hair and the emerald green eyes were supposed to give it away… but still, my mind was withholding such information from me.

I felt like I had almost placed her name when she caught sight of me. I saw her expression harden, as if seeing me alive and well pissed her off. It probably did. She walked over to my bed in quick, sure strides and injected something into the bag that was connected to the IV that was connected to my arm.

As my mind started slipping away into a drug-induced unconsciousness, I couldn't help but notice the small golden engagement ring on her finger…

----

This time, when I woke up, the lights were not blazing. This time, when I woke up, there wasn't an angel, ready to inject drugs to sedate me into sleep. This time, the lights were off, the moon was shining in the window, and a big hairy man was watching me while I slept.

My focus was better than it had been before. I remembered the "angel's" name now—Sakura Haruno—and she was no angel (though she did look like a woman, she had really grown up quite a bit). And, it didn't take me long to figure out who this big, hairy man that was watching me was.

Jiraiya.

His face was clenched, somehow, like being in my presence pained him. He was almost glaring at me, though holding back and bottling up all the actual animosity he had towards me. It was amazing that I was still alive. If I were being questioned, they wouldn't have fixed me up in the hospital beforehand. If I were going to be executed, they wouldn't have bothered giving me a fair trial before executing me—missing nin weren't given fair trails. And, truth be told, they all probably wanted my death.

Why was I still alive? Why, in the first place, hadn't Naruto beaten me? Why hadn't they killed me for beating—possibly killing—Naruto?

Why wasn't I rotting in hell yet, like I deserved?

I couldn't speak. My throat felt like it was glued stuck, the walls of my throat sticking together like Velcro. Jiraiya noted I was awake, and slowly, as if the movement was causing him pain (he was old), he crossed the room and came to my bedside. He glared down at me before picking up a thin sheet of ice. I had been in a hospital before—they didn't give you real water when you were in critical condition because you could drown in it. So, to be careful, they gave you small ice sheets to melt in your mouth to quench your thirst. I couldn't move my arms, due to the IV, so I simply stuck my tongue out.

He put nearly ten pieces of ice on my tongue before I was actually satisfied. Once I had had enough of the ice, I finally asked, "How's Naruto?" I felt like I already knew the answer—he couldn't possibly be alive, or, if he was alive, he was in terrible condition.

"He's… not well. He's in extensive care. At this point, it all depends on his will to live," Jiraiya explained with a grimace.

"He'll live, then," I muttered to myself absent-mindedly. If there was one thing that Naruto definitely had more of than I did, it was willpower. That, and—well, that and goodness.

"It's not always about that. Sometimes, even with strong will, luck is just against you."

Naruto had that, too—luck. Or, rather, he had good luck with most things—you couldn't ignore the fact that he had a demon contained inside of him since almost the day he was born.

I didn't bring that up. Even a less experienced ninja like me knows that luck shouldn't be considered a skill—luck was something that happened, but you couldn't possibly control luck.

"Why… am I alive?" I finally managed to ask. Jiraiya seemed disturbed by this question. Not necessarily because it was I who asked it, but probably because I was a much younger ninja than he was, and I sounded depressed I hadn't died (I was actually trying to convince myself I wasn't).

Jiraiya took another deep sigh. It was obvious that this was the source of a good deal of his grief. "Before the fight…" he paused, as if he was about to say something he couldn't quite believe, "Naruto passed a law—well, more like gave an order. It said that, should he die in the fight, you wouldn't be executed—instead, you'd become the Hokage. If you refused, you'd be executed. But, well… he's not dead yet. But if he does live, the thing is, he won't be able to return to work… and…"

Jiraiya was interrupted. A nurse hurried into the room. I recognized her right away—Hinata Hyuuga. "Hokage-sama is out of surgery. His… chakra pathways have been burnt out. He's got a lot of chakra-induced burns on his arms and his hands, and it's possible he'll never be able to use chakra again without another major surgery, but…" she took a deep breath, and out of relief, she smiled, "He'll live. He's going to live."

It was only a bittersweet piece of news—Naruto might not be able to use chakra ever again? All of his jutsu revolved around chakra—he wasn't like Lee. She then, turned to me. It was at that moment that I realized Hinata, like Sakura, had done a lot of growing up in the time that I had been away. Was it me, or was it them? Could it be both? Whatever it was, something was different when I saw them. I never thought I'd think Sakura Haruno, of all people, looked beautiful.

But she, even now, couldn't hold a candle to Hinata Hyuuga. She grew out her hair (which I did like long hair) to where it was actually below her bust. Her skin was still the same pale color, but instead of it making her look sickly, she looked shimmery, like she was made of ivory. Her eyes were no longer the same color of opaque white as her cousin's eyes were—now, they were a light shade of lavender. Her body was in amazing shape, as well. She had toned up a lot—probably from doing so many exercises outside with Kiba and Shino. She had a perfect hourglass figure—it was the only way to describe it.

And she was wearing makeup. Since when did Hinata Hyuuga wear makeup? I wouldn't have been able to tell, if it wasn't for the pink shade her lips were painted—but the lipstick was there, definitely.

"Hokage-sama wants to speak with you directly… Are you well enough to get up?" she asked gently. Even though I had hurt and almost killed Naruto, her Hokage, and ultimately, the boy she had had a crush on the majority of her life, she was being decent to me, even kind.

"Yeah. I'm fine," I grumbled. I slowly moved into a sitting position, my limbs and my bones stiff from lying in bed for so long. I was still sore, but I could deal with the pain.

"I'll announce that you're coming. Hurry up, though—you need rest. When you get back, I'll give you a pain-killer and a sedative," Hinata said simply. Her tone was still caring, but it was also professional—that of a nurse, or rather, a well-trained medical ninja.

She offered no help, nor did Jiraiya. They stood in silence as they watched me struggling out of bed. Once I did get up, Hinata turned in silence and began to lead me away from the room. I followed, not sure what to say, or if I should even speak.

This situation was fixed abruptly when Kiba Inuzuka came jogging up to Hinata. He threw himself upon her in an overly friendly manner, and he was panting. "Hinata… Akamaru twisted his ankle… My sister doesn't have any pain medication left. Do you think you could…?" his unasked question hung in the air. He looked even wilder than he had in earlier years—he almost looked like he was imitating the styles of someone tougher from another village. His hair was in disarray, his eyes were menacing, and his face was painted with the same wild, blood red paint.

With the way he was hung over Hinata, I guessed that they had dated, at least for a short period of time.

"Is Chiyo outside waiting for you, or is she back at the apartment?" Hinata asked. So that was the name of his girlfriend. What a dumbass—who would let such an angel leave him?

"Back at the apartment, bless her," Kiba was making an underlying sex joke. Hinata rolled her eyes. She was used to that.

"Bring Akamaru into the on-call room. I have to wait ten more minutes—I can't work on Akamaru while I'm still on my shift," Hinata changed the subject abruptly. "Oh, and don't bring him through hospital again, please."

Kiba nodded, saluted her playfully, and hopped off. I eyed him with a slight look of surprise, but I continued following Hinata without a word.

All too soon, Hinata turned to me and opened a door. "We're here," she explained.

This wouldn't be fun.