INTRO:

My reason for writing AWOL - I wanted to make a story where Naruto had committed this devious crime, something nobody would have expected of him. And he has done this secretly, with no one knowing, so he has to live with the threat - and fear - of being found out.

I don't know how close this will end to what I aspire, but here is my attempt.

WARNING:

Not Post-Timeskip Compliant, but then again, I don't think anything of mine is.

Oh "It's the madness in his eyes"
As he breaks the night to cry:

"It's really Me, really You
And really Me
It's so hard for us to really be
Really You and really Me
You'll lose me though I'm always really free."

- Davie Bowie, Wild-Eyed Boy From Freecloud.

Jiraiya has long suspected that Naruto is not quite right in the head. He tends to smile much more than he should, looking almost like an idiot with his cheeks pulled so. And even though Jiraiya never actually sees anything (and he watches closely - sometimes too closely, having to make jokes as he hides his unease) there are never any bugs about their camp. (And this is frightenly wrong.)

Jiraiya would be much more worried normally, but he doesn't actually see anything, and he never hears anything, and when he wakes up in the middle of the night and finds Naruto's face through the dying embers of their fire, the boy is still smiling. Even in sleep.

This is more bizarre than scary (and Jiraiya has nothing but his unease to go on - a flimsy argument), so what reason would he have to fear a fool like Naruto?

So Jiraiya misses the darkness lighting the corners of Naruto's eyes, misses the way things run from them as they walk. Misses the crushed wings in Naruto's teeth and under his nails.

Naruto is grateful for this. Sometimes it is hard to hide his madness.

Gai is a chuunin on his way to meet with his teacher and his team, and he walkes with a purposeful air knowing that soon he will be competing in the Jounin exams. His pride in both himself and the pride (he believes) the village places in him will not allow him to fail.

So he doesn't see the small boy that almost trips him, and makes his arms flail out mockingly as he tries to keep his feet.

Only when balance has been restored (a brief collection of seconds that greatly disturbs him, as he will be the best), can he see the child's face.

It is dirty and covered with blood. The boy's eye is bruised, and though the dirt smeared across his face makes it difficult to tell the difference between what is damaged flesh and what is merely stain, he can clearly see the trauma with his eyes.

There is sweat on the forehead, some still lingering in sticky strands of blonde hair that clump. Gai knows this child, and finds it slightly disturbing to hear that gasping breath as if the child has just been running for his life.

But he was not. He was standing still when Gai tripped over him.

Gai smiles at the one who he knows is named Naruto. (Just like every other nin knows in the frantic after when there was no Kyuubi burning the skies and the sudden calm sent chills down every spine, shinobi or civilian.)

Naruto gapes up at him, his breathes only now just easing ..

But shown this sudden kindness of bright teeth lifting and such face widning, the boy starts off at a frightened pace. His frantic dash around Gai - to escape him - would nearly miss a civilian's eye.

Gai could easily catch him, but that is not the point. Cornering anything already so afraid (as Naruto clearly is, and this pains Gai's heart because why would any child wear such a look on their face?) would do nothing to help.

Gai frowns at this, and makes a note in his mind to relay these events to the Hokage when he next sees him. What kind of a life must Naruto have to be so scared like that? Ah, the poor youth..

This image of Naruto stays with him the rest of the day, until Gai eventually finds himself sitting in Sarutobi's offfice with a struggle to remain still as the Third readies himself and he can think of nothing to say. What words would he use? What was he qualified to say?

With the Hokage watching him, all he can see is that look in Naruto's eyes, Naruto running away, and when he leaves, the only part of the conversation he remembers is being told, gently,

"It's none of your concern."

Naruto slips in through the back door and lets it close quietly behind him, leaning on it with his back and a tense look on his face. He is breathing sharply through his nose as if from a fight or a run. But he is not sweating and there are no bruises, torn skin, or ripped clothes about him.

Ibiki is on the other side of the room, looking busy. He has too many files in one hand, and is visibly torn between balancing some more papers in the other or seperating them into the files. He turns around when Naruto enters and immediately turns back to face the wall.

He lets the papers flip through his hands in a solid succession - like a fall of leaves - and focuses his gaze solidly on them.

Naruto knows he is being ignored, but makes his way across the room anyway to stand at Ibiki's side, where he knows the man can see him. His hands in his pockets, he sways a little in boredom and hums a catchy tune.

Ibiki makes no comment on Naruto's entrance, and after several long minutes of swaying and soft hums to break the silence, Naruto gets bored of this too and starts up.

He speaks quickly, his words a rambling rush that makes them seem unprepared. Ibiki grunts once, but Naruto isn't sure if it's aimed at him and can make nothing of it.

Naruto was digging a grave in the middle of the night in what looked like an open field but had the stench of sweat and blood and rotting remains.

Should anyone find him .. should anyone see the body he dragged across the street, he'd be dead.

He had wrapped his foster father in several sheets until the smell of vomit and the sight of blood was no more. Then he threw him out the open window of their apartment, cringing at the sound the body made landing.

Being almost four, the easier route was down the stairs. So he took it, skipping.

The light was stretch from the sky in a way that gave a blanket of darkness to the village and made Iruka wonder if the morning was coming or going.

He couldn't say with certainty - he had spent so many hours in a lamp-lit room of the school that he was wary to guess the day.

That last bitter cup of coffee still clung to the back of his throat in a way more reminscent and seen in barnacles.

"I'm worried about him.."