Ambivalence. Double polarity. Paradox. Contradiction. Duality. And, perhaps, the spiral was merely a line who felt lonely.

AN: The paradox that is Naruto. The paradox that is Dark Naruto. He's the one closer to darkness, but all he ever wanted... was just to keep them both alive.

And despite the Chidori hole in his chest, he screamed.

Part two.

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Ambivalence.

His mind was still in a state of blank (painpainpainpainpain) shock when it crashed down into darkness.

Even before vision blurred its way back into his glazed eyes, he was met with an angry fist to the face. The punch snapped his head back with a sharp crik of the neck, but the rest of his numb body remained held in place...

...by the hole in his chest which was not supposed to be there.

"GWAAAAAAARGH!"

The hysterical scream exploded right in his face. He blinked once.

His head swam. His vision remained fuzzy.

"I HATE HIM!" Someone was yelling. "Who does he think he is? Huh? Why did he betray us all? He's throwing away everyth— why are you even going after him? Why is he trying to kill you? – WHY THE HELL ARE YOU GETTING KILLED?"

Oh, he realised. It's you.

The confusion he felt was vague and strangely disconnected from the rest of himself.

Why're you so upset?

Slowly, he managed to force his arm to move. Pressing ice-cold fingers to his cheek, he smiled stiffly.

"...Doesn't hurt, you know." He let his hand drop, staring expectantly at the other.

A pair of hands seized his jacket violently.

"You—"

They were nose-to-nose, and he could see it clearly by then – that furious, desperate face, exactly like his own.

"TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF, DAMMIT!"

There was hate and anguish in the other's eyes, with a half-choked sadness and a strange horror which lay beneath it all. The pressure which held him in mid-air by the gaping round hole – where his lung was supposed to be – suddenly disappeared, leaving him no longer speared on nothingness, and he felt himself slumping downwards. The other boy's tight hold on his jacket did not loosen however, still holding him upright even though his arms shook horribly from the effort. (Perhaps that was not the only reason.)

(He noticed an identical hole in the other's chest, a fist-shaped all-the-way-through not-supposed-to-be-there-dammit wound drenched with dark-dark-dark blood, black with pain and scarlet with hate.)

"Doesn't hurt," he insisted, voice barely audible.

The other boy made a strangled half-way sound, somewhere between a snort of mad laughter and a sob disguised as a scream.

"Which one?" He snarled harshly, sarcasm sliding sluggishly down his torso.

He smiled.

"Which one?" His double pressed. "Which one are you referring to? Tell me!"

He would have shrugged, if it was physically possible then.

"Yours," he remarked wryly. "The other one hurts like hell... but somehow..." he paused, pressing his hand over his heart. "This one hurts the most."

"...Yet your punch doesn't at all. Weird, isn't it?" He made a weak attempt at a grin.

And then, because it really really mattered, "I'm sorry."

The strangest and most unreadable expression came over the other's face at that moment, before it was wiped completely blank.

"Don't apologise, dammit," The boy snapped. "Especially when there's no need to. It's a sign of weakness."

He grinned weakly. "If you say so. But I wanted to."

The other boy scowled at him. "Don't die, either." Then, more quietly, "...I don't want to."

"Got it."

A sea of scarlet engulfed them, and he felt himself pushed into it as the hands let go.

Thanks.

I hate him.

I made a promise.

Don't die.

I want to keep that promise.

Don't die.

I will fight and bring him back.

Don't die.

I won't.

...Idiot.

Thanks for keeping me alive.

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He failed the promise.

But you're alive. Keep it that way.

(And he may or may not have added, please.)

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to be continued.