Orange.

Naruto sat up and yawned as he stretched, cracking his neck left then right. His right hand plucked the gopher hat off of his head and plopped it on top of his pillow. Scratching his head he swung his feet over the edge of the bed, setting them on the cool wooden floorboards.

Making his way into the bathroom, he striped off his boxers and night shirt. He thanked Kami as he showered under the warm spray of water. Soap, lather, rinse, no repeat. Wrapping his towel around his waist, he finished his daily routine by brushing his teeth and running a hand through his hair.

Walking back into the small bedroom, he pulled a fresh pair of boxers out of the top dresser drawer. Next he snagged a black wife beater and put that on as well. Then his eyes roved over to the right and as he spotted his colors.

The pants went on first, followed closely by the jacket. The outfit he was known for. It fit him loosely, and sure they were tattered and had an odd smell, but they said all that Naruto felt without him having to say a word. They were his colors. Walking out and boiling the water for his ramen breakfast, Naurto allowed himself to remember why his colors were what they were... regardless of what people said about it being a bad color for a shinobi.

Orange. The blend of two colors together. Red and Yellow. Yellow and Red. Red like the Kyuubi's fur, Yellow like his own hair. Red like the anger the villagers felt for him, yellow for their cowardly reasons for that anger.

Naruto smiled. He poured the hot water into his cup ramen, waited the three minutes, then ate. He tossed the empty cup into the trash bin as he ran out the door to meet with his team on the bridge. He stopped just a little ways away from where Sakura and Sasuke waited.

Orange.

Yellowfor the happiness Red for the suicidal thoughts.

Orange. ... on the edge of happy and dead. Left for the sun shine, right for a bloody night. So fine a thread of life.

Naruto plastered on a large smile as he ran towards his teammates and greeted them with his usual good mornings.

He wore his orange as a warning to everyone... that he was on the brink.

...too bad no one took the time to think about what orange stood for.