Lazy Hero: Naruto Time Travel

Prologue

(Translate)
Harden tone
"Sayings from Hikari's Flashbacks."
"Talking"
'Thinking'
"Kurama Talking"
"Hikari Talking..."
(Author Talking)
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-zZz- Time skip/ Somewhere

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"I finally did it..." A 16 year old Naruto whispered breathily, a strained smile on his face, coughing up blood in the process. The 4th Shinobi War finally seized after 3 months had passed of endless battles, by which felt like it took years.

The dust had settled long ago, however, the scent of blood that filled the air remained, everything sickeningly bloody red from left and right.

Madara Uchiha was certainly a force to be reckoned with, a dangerous enemy indeed.

Naruto's once cerulean orbs that would glint in excitement and sheer determination, changed into something more dull as time passed over the past few months, draining away his youthful energy to an all out war.

War... funny how a short word could cause such destruction.

He chuckled dryly, realizing later on that he couldn't hear his voice.

Why did it have to be so quiet?

His smile dropped into a frown, eyes wandering off to analyze the surroundings, his eyesight flickering black from the impact received as he clutched his Hokage robe with a tight grip, his knuckles turning white. His vision focused, only to see dead lifeless bodies covered in blood, the crimson liquid also forming a puddle, reflecting the moon and the supposedly night sky that shone as red as blood.

It was red when the war started, and it still is.

Naruto Uzumaki-Namikaze, the 7th Hokage, The Hero and also the Jinchuriki of the Nine-Tailed Fox, Kurama, was now the last survivor of the war along with the Tailed Beast sealed inside him who he befriended, and will always be known as his friend.

And the only one left...

The blonde blinked, snapping out of his daze and struggled as he began to shakily walk away from the field of corpses that surrounded the entire battlefield. He trembled as he kept taking on each step, eyeing each and every shinobi who were deceased on the ground.

His vision starts to blur, the tears about to form as they burned from the bottled up emotions behind the mask of neutral emotion that he tended to keep.

Thoughts raced his mind, and he held back a choked cry of desperation as he wobbly landed on his knees on the cold hard ground, stained once again with that sickening red liquid.

He understood Lady Tsunade completely.

And it hurts.

All of the Shinobi who fought in the war are now dead.

It was only him.

The only shinobi alive.

Alone.

"War does not determine who is right, it determines who is left."

He stood back up with much more effort he could gather up, wiping away his tears. Reluctantly, he continued to walk. But why does he still have to move on? What was the point? What dream do you have left if it's impossible?

He picked up the pace, clenching his fists enough to drip more blood from his scarred hands from war, ignoring the pain that continued to release out of his horrendous wounds, reaching for a nearby rock that had blood splattered all over it. He stretched out a shaky hand to reach out for it, since his eyes couldn't hold out much longer.