WARNING: This fanfiction contains violence, non-graphic rape, depression, and suicide.

Note: This isn't connected in any way to any of my other fanfics. Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura are twelve.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

Naruto was really, really cold.

As he sat, curled up on the park bench, his clothing wet from the melted frost below him, his small 12-year-old body curled in a ball against the cold as he glanced around then back at the ground.

"GET OUT!"

"What? What do you-"

"DEMON BOY, I SAID GET OUT! THERE'S NO THIRD HOKAGE FOR YOU TO BEWITCH NOW! HE CAN'T PROTECT YOU NOW! GET OUT! GET OUT!"

"But, ma'am… it's Christmas Eve… please, please let me stay… I have nowhere else to go…"

The woman stopped, paused, as if almost convinced. A twelve year old boy, alone on the streets on Christmas Eve?

But…

Images of her daughter, laying on the crushed pavement, body twisted in awkward angles, blood pooled around her after the Kyuubi destroyed their balcony and most of the apartment, causing her to fall to her death as the woman's heart shattered along with her bones. Her daughter, her only daughter, her only daughter-

"GET AWAY FROM HERE!" The woman screamed, reaching for a sake bottle placed on a table cordially at the edge of the welcoming table, flinging it at the boy with all of her strength, carving two deep gashes into his side and spilling sake everywhere. Immediately, she regretted her decision: he was a ninja, he could kill her now, accuse her of attacking first-

But the only thing the boy did was drop an envelope on the ground, then slowly walk away, back hunched, the grief clouding his beautiful blue eyes only visible for a slight instant as he turned away from the woman. After he disappeared, the woman slowly, hesitantly walked over to the envelope on the ground, then picked it up and turned it over to open it. Walking inside the door, she used a hair pin to carefully slit it, then shook out its contents.

As she gasped in horror and surprise, the crisp bills of paper money inside falling to the floor, the note that read in barely legible writing "Happy Christmas!" thrown onto the ground.

"I don't want your money, demon boy."

The two gashes on his side, a small cut on his head tiny in comparison to the scarlet blood already frozen onto the bench as he huddled up into an ever smaller ball, the icy wind that blew across his exposed legs and arms like knives cutting into his skin. Curling into an even smaller ball, Naruto could feel the feeling leaving the tips of his fingers and struggled upright onto his feet, stumbling through the cold, his feet so numb he could barely feel them as he jogged in a circle around the village until he was burning with warmth and back on a different bench.

Naruto was so, so, sleepy. But he had to stay awake to exercise, or he would die of frostbite on this cold, cold Christmas Eve. Houses were lit up at 11:00 P.M., warmth of fires shining through with golden light that beckoned toward him. Bloodshot blue eyes, swollen from crying, peaked out of his small face as he continued to shake with cold, sitting on the bench that was now covered in flakes of ice and snow. As he drifted into a half-sleep, jumping up every thirty minutes to return feeling to his freezing fingers and legs, Naruto didn't notice the eyes that glared at him in the morning as he drifted off into real sleep, the morning just warm enough for him to stay asleep. Accusing glares, filled with hate, built up as they watched without pity the now homeless boy curled up on the bench, shuddering with cold as the wind blew, tears that froze quickly into ice flowing down his face in rivets of sorrow.

Then, as the sun hit noon, a villager threw a kitchen knife at the boy on the bench. Blood splattered as Naruto screamed, his side pinned to the chair by the knife, thrashing about like a fish caught in a net, his mind so clouded by pain, pain, pain, that he did not think to pull away the knife as the crowd-the riot-of villagers yanked out the knife and began to tie him up, gagging him with layers of thick fabric ripped from Naruto's own jacket. Fists fell, glass tore, torches burned, and red bloomed as screams of pain from a child tore through the air. As a large foot kicked him in the ribs, another pressed down on his chest, breaking his left ribs with an audible crunch just as a shard of glass severed his left leg, causing Naruto to scream and arch his back into the air, pain lancing through him in waves as blood pore onto the floor. Shutting his eyes, Naruto begged his mind to take him somewhere else, anywhere else, and images of Kakashi-sensei and Sakura and Sasuke filled his head as he lay completely still, shutting out the pain as the villagers began to slowly disperse.

Silence.

God-blessed, beautiful silence as the crowd finally vanished, leaving Naruto on the floor, clothes in shreds, three knives stuck in his right shoulder, left leg, and lower left chest. As he stumbled upward, even the Kyuubi hard-pressed to heal his wounds, three men stepped out of the shadows, a wicked smile on each of their faces. In a single movement, they were pinning him back down in a pool of his own blood, Naruto writhing and begging for mercy as they began to unbuckle their pants and then cut open Naruto's.

A scream of anguish and shattering heartbreak rang through the air as the men thrust in, one by one, each one of them climaxing with a stifled grunt before pulling out and allowing the next to take a turn, until Naruto was bleeding and screaming, until they were smiling in malicious laughter as they walked away, buckling their belts, leaving Naruto laying alone in the dark alley.

He didn't try to get up because he wanted to walk, to live, to breath, to eat and train and laugh and celebrate Christmas with a nonexistent family just like every other year of his wretched, unimportant, worthless life. Buying himself a small cake, buying himself a small present-what was the point? What was the point of this life that he led, valued by none, hated by all?

Instead, he got up for the nib laying ten feet away, which had stabbed twenty holes into his flesh. The untouched patch of brick wall behind him.

He got up for the final time, he promised himself, a final time from being pushed and kicked when he was down, got up a final time from desperate searches for acceptance and suffocating refusal from anyone, everyone, a final time from hatred and scathing loathing from everyone who laid an eye on him. He got up to reach forward, grasping the nib in a trembling hand and dipping it into his nearest wound, writing in sloppy kanji his suicide note.

Then, as Naruto stood up, pushing himself up with a shaking, blood-covered hand, he searched for a knife, ignoring, pretending the blood around him from his lost virginity didn't exist, until he found a long sharp carving knife and then raising it high above his head, the point aimed toward his own heart.

Deep inside his head, Naruto wished for someone to rush in, to grab his hand, to tell him to please, Naruto, stop, I value you, you matter to me, stop, stop, stop! but nobody did.

Nobody ever did, or ever would.

And so Naruto brought the blade down, a silver flash of metal in the air as the blade whistled, the tip digging into the flesh just above Naruto's heart and then-

A flash of smoke

Three people, one tall with silver hair, one with pink, and one with black,

"NO!" All of them screamed, taking in the sight of Naruto with his wounds, his pants down, blood leaking, eyes spilling over with tears as he gazed at Kakashi Hatake, Sakura Haruno, and Sasuke Uchiha sprint toward him, eyes wide with panic and sadness as they ran, ran, ran-

But it was too late.

As the blade ripped into his heart with an audible thunk, Naruto's face creased into a small, true, peaceful, absolutely pure smile. Sakura screamed a high, shrill, cry of grief. As Naruto's body swayed, then fell into a puddle of scarlet blood and sinful white liquid, Kakashi dropped to his knees, staring at that alcove of sin that was blood, semen, weapons, and even two shards of bone.

At the boy in the middle, the boy formed of so much false happiness and aching deep inside that he had finally cracked. Finally broken. Finally ended his own life.

The words in kanji on the wall caused even Sasuke to choke down a sob of anguish and rage.

"I hope you're happy, Konohagakure.

I am.

I'm sorry, Kaka-sensei, Sasuke, Sakura.

I can't do this anymore.

Merry Christmas. I got tricked by a box of traps, but I guess in the end, I got my desired gift.

I'm sorry.

Goodbye.

Yes, depressing af. Sorry if you're scarred for eternity, but it just turned out like this. I've explained that my writing never comes as "planned," the writing shapes itself and the story as I write it.

I'm really sorry I haven't updated for Wings of Gods, I've kinda hit a writer's block, I'll be back by January for sure, maybe this Sunday. I'm really sorry!

I've also written a Throne of Glass tragedy, if you guys want me to post it, I'll do so gladly.

Hope you enjoyed! Please read and review!