I bore witness to a sight I would never forget for as long as I live. My imagination was a wicked creature; in crafted a lady so fine and pure, instructed her to paint a master piece the whole world could adore and forced me to watch the art come to life and whistle. The tune was ghostly, mournful and breathy. It came from the house, from the window, from the boy…

As you all may know I like being dramatic. The above piece of literature is half true. I was delirious from sickness and I saw the story come to life right before my very eyes and it was glorious!

…ok, ok I admit I was scared to death and I thought about killing myself but I didn't so… forget I said anything.

The summary can be gotten from what I wrote at the top. If you don't get it read the story below…

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN Naruto

The House By the Lake

"I didn't kill them! You have to believe me!"

The tall spikey, white haired man looked down on the crying mass on the floor with pure, unadulterated disdain. He scoffed at the boy and walked out of the house he was in, ignoring the boy's pleas. The boy kept crying, snot dribbling out of his nose unhindered. The man that left was the last connection he had to his dead parents. The man's name was jiriaya, his father's teacher.

This was how the boy's life had been since they died.

His parent's friends' would come around for the last time and spit on him in disgust, condemning him to a life of forced solitude. All because they thought he killed his parents. The only person that didn't spit on him was her…

The mere thought of her warmed his 12 year old heart but didn't reduce his sobs. She was forced by her parents to relocate somewhere far, far away. He would never see her again.

The most he could remember of the night of the murder was slurry and blurry. It was like walking in maple syrup, the colours blurring into each other and the dim light in the houses halls glowing eerily. It was an hour to midnight and the boy padded quietly to his room to their room to complain of a noise he heard outside it was too late. They were already dead.

His addled mind only remembered seeing the bedside lamp illuminate his precious mothers bleeding hand before it flickered out of life. The room turned as his mind tried to process what was happening, he stumbled to them in his daze and grabbed her hand, the only part of her body he could remember, and gave it a firm shake, muttering to himself that this was just a nightmare. The rooms last light, the one in the bathroom flickered out and the bedroom was bathed in the moons beam, it too seemed to mourn the death of his precious parents with him. After all, they were great people in the process of doing great things…

Someone cleared his throat from behind him and he turned slowly, his eyes wide with fear, and caught a glimpse of a masked man with an eyehole that held a glowing red eye before he promptly passed out.

He didn't wake up until the police found him. He was covered in their blood, his blonde hair soaked in the fluid to its roots and shirtless. They said he was wearing a satisfied grin, occasionally smacking his lips, revealing his also blood soaked teeth. They called him a demon. A blood sucker. A vampire.

And no one, not even the people that knew him since he was in his precious mothers belly, believed he was innocent. Well, except for her…

She was his brief glow of light in the dark and damp tunnel his mind always threw him in. she came around with her parents on his 4th birthday, they became fast friends. The blushing girl and the motor mouth boy were always seen talking to each other, sending messenger birds to each other whenever there was time. They were best friends; she was also his first crush…

And he would never see her again.

His tear stained eyes looked around his dimly lit house, his parent's house. The place was a mess, his parent's friends and his own friends refused to help him clean up; he couldn't clean the blood out of his parents room himself. His body writhed in emotional pain, wracking through his body mercilessly, filling his eyes with tears. He had been betrayed by all he thought he could trust, by all he thought he knew so well.

His god mother, Senju Tsunade.

His father's student, Hatake Kakashi.

His mother's best friend, Uchiha Mikoto.

His father's business partner, Uchiha Fugaku.

His idol, Uchiha Itachi.

His idols brother, Uchiha Sasuke.

All his father's body guards.

The last person was his god father, Jiriaya.

He stumbled to his parent's room and fell on the floor, hungry and tired; he hadn't eaten or slept in a month. He slumped on the room's window, where his mother liked rocking him to sleep when he was younger and his father would tell him stories of when he was younger if his mother was at her night shift in the hospital. His glassy blue eyes stared out of the window up at the moon, the blood moon. A hollow chuckle escaped his lips, he pursed and licked them before he whistled a tune he heard from his late surrogate grandfather about a young boy that got lost at sea and was never seen again. The ghostly and dead tune became softer by the minute until he couldn't keep going; his eyes rolled into his head and his body finally gave up. Namikaze Naruto, son of Namikaze Minato and Uzumaki Kushina, was dead. A lone tear escaped his eyes.

The heavens cried that night, despite the blaring red moon.

Time skip: 300 years later…

The first sign Hinata found that her father's new house was haunted was that when she slept she would always hear a ghostly whistle where she knew her window was but didn't have the strength to open her eyes. Her father didn't believe her, chalking her rambling for cowardice, but her sister at least tried to sympathize with her. Hanabi soothed whatever nerves she had till she fell asleep. Funny how the younger sister would sing the older one to sleep.

They were new to the town and her father liked keeping away from 'the lesser people' so he bought the less used but luxurious house by the lake. The real estate agent said that it has been there since the 1700's, it used to be owned by a former mayor and that it had a dark past. But the house looked pristine and new, directly contrasting the fact that it was older than her father.

He worked as the head of a private security company that specialized in hand to hand combat and a little bit of weapons. She was deemed too soft to go into the family business so he tended to ignore her, occasionally sneering at her, though less and less as the years passed. Her sister was another story, she was strong, brave and quick witted, though Hanabi always had a soft spot for her dear sister. It was the family business because her whole clan, as scattered as they were, still worked there.

She chose the less violent path in life; she wanted to be an artist. If there was anything she was a prodigy in it would be painting and poetry. This was another reason her father, Hiashi Hyuuga, purchased the house-or mansion-and the land around it, the lake included. It had more than 10 rooms with bathrooms in each, a basement, and attic, a kitchen, a dining area, a living room, a porch, a training ground at the back. He built a smaller but still relatively large house at the wide backyard/training ground for the servants and maids. She knew her father still loved her but showed it in less obvious and 'weak' ways; he gave her a room and the attic to practice her art all she wanted. The attic contained her painting and her poem chest.

Hinata Hyuuga had lost count of all the awards her art had gotten her. The number of times her father had hollowly told her he was proud of her.

Right now, she was in her art room, or the attic, painting a dream she had the previous night. It depicted a boy, slumped over a window staring at a blood red moon with soulful yet still empty eyes. The air around him was dark and murky but the moons beam cut through it and bathed him in its ethereal glow. He wore a torn and dirtied version of a white suit shirt and black shorts that frayed at his knees. The room around him was dark but at where one could guess the door was there was a single red glowing dot that emanated joy and satisfaction. Hinata had been having those sort of dreams since the day she moved in, it couldn't be classified as nightmares, per say, because nothing bad happened to her. She just watched a boy her age crying on the ground, she never being able to touch him so she would comfort him somehow, and his relatives coming one by one to spite him. She even saw someone that looked exactly like her father but more…free, less broody and stiff. The Hyuuga-he had the same eyes as her clan-smiled at the boy before he forced his unwilling-and identical to her-daughter out of the house.

It was another master piece in the making.

"Hinata-sama, Higuarashi-san is here to see you." A gentle voice said from behind her, she just nodded and mixed a bit of her black and white to make grey and dabbed it under his eyes to make it seem like he was crying silver tears. She got back absorbed in her work of art and that was all that mattered at the moment. The Hyuuga maids were used to their mistresses behaviour and had learnt to respect it; she was usually a polite and attentive girl. She bowed to Hinata's back and shuffled out of the room to show in her mistress's best friend.

The purple haired girl put the last reddish stroke in the boy's glassy eyes before she dropped her pallet and admired the painting. She took off her apron and hung it in a wardrobe near the large window in the attic.

"It looks cool, Hina." Her tom-boyish best friend said from behind her. She was a girl-that was for sure-but she like…questionable things, like knives and explosives. Though she wasn't a threat to herself and humanity she was a definite threat to perverse boys and perverse boys that bugged Hinata. She wore blood red tights and a red shirt under a black cardigan. She also wore ballet flats and styled her hair into two buns. She wasn't into art but science. "What inspired you this time?"

Hinata gave her a gentle smile and responded, "I dreamt of him last night." She then ruffled through her desk for her homework, "have you done Mrs Kureanai's essay?"

"Yeah. Do you want to copy it" she said this with a teasing smirk; the Hyuuga just rolled her eyes in response before she sat down to write the essay on konoha's leaders. Her friend chose to recline in one of the sofas in the room and play on her phone. She finished the essay a little bit before sunset, "well, I've got to get home before my dad blows a gasket, see you whenever." Hinata silently waved at her then looked at her finished homework.

That night was a night she would never forget.

After dinner, she stalked to her room and closed the door. When it was about an hour after midnight she heard…whistling, a ghostly sound that made the air feel thick and palpable. The tune was mournful but still hopeful. She opened her eyes and stifled her gasp; the room was dark and the air thick and grey scale, the moon shone through her window onto someone that should not be in her room. The boy in her painting. He was exactly how she depicted him to be, every last detail. His body was translucent and wispy. The moon outside was even red, she stood up and stalked to him, it felt like she was swimming in the water, her body leaving ripples as she moved. The boy remained unaware, as far as she knew; he whistled solemnly, a tribute to his grandfather. She was now directly behind his slumped form, and was about to reach over and grab him but held herself, waiting to see where this tearful but beautiful song would lead to. The door creaked and she got a brief flash of red then it was gone, the man leaving as quietly as he came.

His song stopped in his throat. He licked his lips and said quietly, "you look just like her." Hinata took a step back in shock that he did know of her presence. He didn't even turn around to acknowledge it though; he just stayed where he was, his body gaunt and weak, his cloths torn with bloody specks and mud on it. He took a deep breath and coughed slightly, "if I believed in reincarnation I would say you were her." He chuckled emptily, the sound send chills down her spine, "but I would say that it's a kami damned coincidence."

She managed to get control of her brain processes and asked him, "coincidence" the words bubbled out of her mouth and floated in the air.

"Hai, you both have the same names, clan, hobbies, passions, you even look like her." He sighed to himself, "the only difference is that you don't know me…"

The eldest Hyuuga child rolled her tongue in her mouth, "…we can always try to know each other…" she walked forward and stood beside him with her hands in front of her chest, tapping her fingers nervously.

The mystery boy was silent before he said, "my name is Namikaze Naruto, the only child of Namikaze Minato and Uzumaki Kushina, we lived in this house a long time ago before they were murdered and I died of neglect. The people my parents trusted accused me of killing them."

"So isn't true how Namikaze-sama died, that his son killed him?"

"I love my parents, I love them more than you can imagine, Hinata, I couldn't even bring myself to lie to them let alone kill them…but I gave up trying to prove my innocence the day my god father left." He cleared his throat and looked at her from the side of his eyes, "I wanted to see you for myself, not your shadow. I don't need to know you because I already do." He puffed out some air from his nose and sighed "It seemed that was all I needed to do because I can finally hear my mother calling me. I plan on going to meet my parents in the afterlife and maybe meet the other Hinata there too if I'm lucky…you aren't crazy Hinata, this is as real as the world can get."

"Why would you care if I were crazy, Naruto?"

He didn't respond for a while but did with a simple, "because I'm not evil." He stood up slowly, his bones creaking audibly from disuse and his joints cracking from stiffness, he was a good foot taller than her and she felt her cheeks dusting with a blush. To her he looked like an angel, the moon beam hit his body at just the right angle to make his translucent body glow. He had three peculiar whisker like birth marks on each cheek, a soft smile on his lips and electric blue eyes that warmed her very soul when he looked at her, and ever so slightly rubbed her red cheeks, his hands literally ghosting over them, he turned to the blood moon and murmured wistfully, "I'm coming, Hina-chan…" he looked at the flustered girl beside him, "I trust you'll write about this." She nodded numbly, "good girl." His translucent form slowly broke up and flew out the window in a golden yellow mist that was too glorious for the young girl to look away from. The mist went upwards and disappeared into the sky with a final blink. Her legs went on automatic, she walked backwards till the back of her knees hit the bed and she fell on it, covering herself up to her neck and fell asleep. The heavy air lightened till it was back to normal.

The only thing that did not go back to normal was the single red glow behind her door that shone in rage. The masked murderer grits his teeth in anger and swished his shadowy cloak, promptly disappearing in thin air, although he left a parting message.

The phantoms voice echoed in her room, "I will come back, Hinata, and you will pay for that soul…with one of your loved ones own." He cackled and his presence left the room, leaving a peacefully unaware Hinata dreaming of dancing under a blood red moon with the mysterious blonde boy named Namikaze Naruto.

Authors note

Was it any good or did I just waste my time writing this stuff. I deeply apologise if what I said at the top offended anyone. Bring your random story plots to me and I will write them if I can. Because if you can guess this is a betrayal fic. Should I write a sequel?

Well, give me your opinions, positive and negative if you wish.

Review!

B.j.