Author: XxDreaming of RealityxX
Comments: Please read beforehand! A while back, I read an emotionally moving and breathtaking story that made me think, and it made me cry. So, I adapted it myself, writing in more detail, and I wanted to share this all with you. I don't know the origins or where it came from, but no matter what, I just had to take the time and think that sometimes not everything is as it seems. I hope you'll find this story as beautiful as I did, and that I did it justice. I don't really have any warnings this time, except that it's a sad story and wonderful at the same time.
Disclaimer: Although I love this story, I was not the original creator and merely re-adjusted it to a oneshot, I also don't own Naruto.
An Hour
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man, a blond with piercing blue eyes, was situated by the window, allowed to sit up to let the fluid drain from his lungs. The other had to lay flat on his back; he was unable to move, his hair was a dark shade of black and his eyes were ebony-onyx. The two would talk together, sharing their lives and their experiences.
Naruto was always smiling, looking out the window as they shared tales of their families, their friends, their homes, their involvement in the military service, their feelings when they were teenagers and everything they did during their time outside the hospital. They would just lie and relax, the calming sound of each other's voices, allowing them to smile softly and picture the different things each of them had gone through.
Then, for one hour, Naruto would tell Sasuke about everything beyond the window, looking out and sharing the beautiful sights he saw, the colours, the life beyond their walls. Lying on his back, Sasuke would listen, just simply picturing the scene beyond the glass, outside, and wanting to see it for himself; to be able to move once again. Soon, Sasuke began to live for those one hour periods, where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the colour and activity outside.
The window overlooked a park with a crystalline lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arms in arms amidst flowers of every colour and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.
On a warm afternoon, Naruto would tell Sasuke about the parade outside, smiling as he occasionally watched the sky, speaking of the picturesque scene beyond the window. Even if it was only an hour, Sasuke would love hearing that voice, telling him of everything he wanted to see for himself, telling him of this beautiful scene outside, of the world waiting for him beyond the window. He would just close his eyes and listen.
Although the raven could not hear the band, he could see it in his mind's eyes as the blond by the window portrayed it with exquisite, descriptive words.
Days, weeks and months passed.
It was a warm morning when the nurse arrived to bring water for their baths, smiling kindly with her pink curls falling in tumbles over her back. Only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. Sakura sadly called the hospital attendants to take his passed body away.
As soon as it seemed appropriate, the Uchiha asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch and, after making sure that he was comfortable, she left him alone.
Slowly…painfully…he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside – the colours, the parades, the children, lake, lovers, skyline, the natural beauty. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.
It faced a blank wall.
Sasuke asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased friend and roommate who had described all these wonderful things outside the window.
Sakura responded that the man was blind, and could not even see the wall. She said, 'Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.'
A/N: Once again, thank you for reading, I hope that sharing this story with you also made you think, just as I did.