Yes, I do own the characters Drachamaru and Gobo, Nobomoru and everyone else up to the point I've reached in my story, except Mochimori and Nagaharu, they are my sister's characters who co-exist in my village of Kanegakure (I am fully aware that this is not an original name for a village, but I am still going with it.) I also own the clan Juukinzuko and am not aware of any other people owning a similarly named clan so that is probably also mine. I'll keep you updated as the story goes along as to whom the characters belong.
This story is rated T for a certain, non-graphic scenario that takes place within the story, please tell me if you believe this should be changed for whatever reason. If it is the rating that would keep you from reading I can assure you that it is not heavily described by any stretch of the imagination, but subtly hinted upon. And, yes I have censored curse words with brackets and put in lesser words in their stead, use your imagination if you're really curious what they actually say, yes I suppose they do actually say those words, just keep in mind when I wrote them in, I was going for a rough, tough city which is probably the only reason I'd use those words. Enjoy!
This is the story of Juukinzuko Drachamaru. I have taken the liberty to include Drachamaru's prior life before he meets the actual characters of Naruto. I hope to make this story one you will enjoy and cherish as well as learn from his mistakes, his joys, and his decisions he makes throughout his life.
Chapter Selections:
Today was going great
Today was going to be exciting
And who can tell me what this is
School only lasts until lunchtime
I remember when my mommy used to sing to me when I was scared
The next thing I knew, I was in a bathtub
I woke up in the middle of the night
I slept so late
When I walked home I saw the twins again
When I got home I didn't feel like talking with my family
A week later my grades were lacking
I landed on my back
When I woke up, he wasn't there
Hey
Dad didn't come back until late that night
The next day I studied my butt off for a test on the thing we had built a week and a half ago
Story:
Today was going great. This morning I woke up at five thirty and made myself a big bowl of breakfast, which consisted of five scrambled eggs, a batch of noodles, chicken oil, twenty seven strips of bacon, and two more eggs Sunnyside up. I ate it in record timing too, three seconds faster than my last record, which was four minutes and thirty-seven seconds. Then I got dressed in my favorite outfit. I had put them in the washing machine last night to clean them, but now I realize I'd put too much soap in because it
smelled like what the soap was scented with. I was pretty sure the walk to school would make it loose that though, so I wasn't worried.
Since I still had four hours left until school, I practiced making batteries from scratch to power a light bulb like my mom had taught me before two months ago when she died. What's really fun that she taught me is that you can actually explode the bulb if you work it correctly, which is even more fun than making the battery.
Then my sister woke up. She normally wakes up at this hour because she stays up late singing her baby to sleep. The baby never sleeps, and it never will either because its fabric. Instead the baby waits for her to fall asleep and then she tucks herself away too, but she never sleeps.
She was crying today; probably because she thought I was Mommy. She's two years younger than me, so it's okay for her to think that even though Mom died and can't come back to make breakfast for her, or give her kisses on her scars, or help her put the baby to sleep.
I went over to her and kissed her on the forehead like Mommy used to every morning. She sniffed her snot back up her nose and rubbed her eye with the hand that wasn't holding her baby.
"Dracha, how are you?"
She was normally this polite, because she wanted to be a princess when she grew up. She must have still been tired, or so I figured because she didn't say my full name. I asked her what she wanted for breakfast, but she said she'd make it herself. I doubted her ability to actually do this, but I waited to see what would happen.
Her nightgown's hem had broken and she was stepping awkwardly on and off of it, nearly making herself trip. She was also carrying not only her baby, which she kept in the crook of her left arm, but her blanket from upstairs which belonged on her bed under the comforter. She had this slung over her right shoulder and snaking behind her like a bridal gown's train. Then her free hand was shoved into her mouth and hung from it while she searched the room for something that might help her get breakfast.
I stood in the archway of the kitchen watching her, nearly laughing as I saw her take her hand from her mouth and grab onto one of the chairs pushed under the tabletop. Her hand had slipped due to the saliva on her fingers and she fell on her butt. She didn't cry, but she did look frustrated. Then she looked at me. I rolled my eyes because I knew she wanted me to stop looking at her, but I left from my spot anyway to go find something else to do.
Even in the living room I could hear her struggling to move the chair. I shook my head at her stubbornness, but I knew that that was something I'd just have to get used to. After all, my dad said that she was turning out to be just like Mommy, and he always used to call Mom a stubborn female dog.
To find something to do, I went into the library and searched for a book I could look at while I waited for school. Our library has a rolling stairway in it, so you can get hard to reach books from anywhere in the room. My sister and I used to play on it, until she fell from the second highest rung and had to get five stitches.
That was before Mom died, about a few weeks before. I remember that because Mom smacked me really hard on my face for playing on the ladder even though I knew better. Then she sat down and brought me onto her lap and hugged me and said that she was sorry she'd hurt me. She just needed me to look out for my sister, because I was the oldest.
I was careful when using the ladder so I wouldn't fall and hurt myself while getting a book. I picked one of the mechanic books that had a lot of pictures of machines. Then I listened hard for Daddy's footsteps, but he must have still been asleep. Silently, I jumped down from the ladder and ran away from the room just in case I had left any signs that I'd jumped from the
thirteenth rung, which is something I'm not aloud to do since my sister tried to.
I went back into the living room. Sitting on the floor and opening the book at a random page, I started looking through. It was a profession of my family's to build and take apart mechanisms and I was certainly not going be left out. I have been going to preliminary school for the study of basic mechanics since I was five. My sister will be starting the school soon too, but she needs to wait half a year. By then I'll be in academy, so I won't be attending the same school with her until she turns seven.
I thumbed through the book to my favorite section. It's all about bombs. I've made only small ones in class, but soon I'll be able to make stronger ones. The book doesn't tell you how to make any though, so I'd have to make them another way. The best part is that you can get paid to make bombs, if they're any good. Lots of my family works making bombs for the city like my mom did, but not my dad.
I closed the book and turned around. I nearly met my great aunt when I saw my sister lying on the couch hugging her baby sleeping. I mustn't have seen her there when I came in, but now that I did I had a hunch she had given up on making breakfast. I sighed and picked up the book while standing up and moved into the kitchen to make more breakfast. This time, however, I didn't make as much food because my sister is watching her figure: just a bowl of scrambled eggs and two pieces of bacon. Then I poured her some milk and put a napkin next to the bowl. I went back into the living room and put my hand on her measly shoulder and my mouth to her ear, whispering to her.
"Gobo… your breakfast is ready…"
I shook her gently for extra measure and she stirred. Sitting up from her sleep she lost her baby on her lap in a big stretch and a yawn. She looked into my eyes just like how a kitten might while she rubbed one of her eyes. Then she rose up her hands to me because she wanted to be carried to her food. Before I could react, she adjusted herself: moving her hair out of her face and reclaiming her baby in her hands. Then she regained her raised position and I picked her up to carry the princess to her royal buffet.
My sister is like a monster. She nearly squeezed the life out of me while I carried her away from the couch and over to the table. That's nothing though; she can also pick me up nearly half a meter off the ground. If there were ever a time where she'd need to hang on for dear life, she was ready.
After I set her down and my lungs could finally get air into them again, I sat down on a chair next to her. She speculated her food like she thought I'd poisoned it. Stealing a glance over towards me, she picked up her utensils and started to eat. She eats very slowly, like it's her last supper. She reached for her glass, but paused and brought the drink to the level of her eyes.
"Why did you give me milk, Drachamaru?"
My sister has another gift. She knows how to look and sound like an angel while her words are dripping with venom. You'd have thought I had peed in her cup. I looked at her in the nicest way I could feel towards my snippy sister and replied.
"Milk is good for you, Gobo. It helps give you the calcium you need to build strong bones."
I'd learned this at school on a handout. Milk is expensive in my city because it needs to be shipped from far away. They gave us the handout to bring to our parents so that they make sure to buy it. But you need to drink every last drop, or you'll get your butt smacked. I learned that from my dad; the hard way.
"Drachamaru, I don't like milk: it tastes funny and it makes me blow up fat."
"You're not going to get fat." I nearly had what I was saying rehearsed in my head, "Your bones know that they need the calcium and they will get stronger. It'll make you taller, and fat people aren't tall. Look at Dad: he's a giant and he's not fat."
"Yes, but Daddy is a boy. Girls get fatter than boys."
I shook my head in disbelief. My sister is the most gullible person I know sometimes. She's really smart on some things, but then once you talk about her appearance she believes you to the end. I searched my mind for things to tell her.
"Girls don't get fatter than boys… where- where didja here that?"
"Nobomoru said-"
"Nobomoru is a freaking moron who wouldn't know a girl from a boy if they completely made out with him! His mom probably had to tell him what gender he was so he'd stop wearing dresses."
"Drachamaru, that's rude! You should be nicer to him."
"Like heck I will… that lousy-"
But I tried to regain my composure despite how my next-door neighbor had really done a number now. He probably had called her fat. I took a deep breath… and sighed.
"Look, Gobo: you are not fat. You're as skinny as any Juukinzuko girl I ever met. So drink your milk."
Gobo huffed, but still jammed her face into her glass to drain the whole thing in one drink. That's probably the thing I love the most about her; she listens to reason, or at least she listens to me. After that she took her hands into her bowl and grabbed some food to get rid of the taste. It wasn't ladylike, but I'm sure no one would blame her. Milk only tastes good with cookies and sugar dumplings. When Mommy was alive, she always gave us either of those when making us drink milk.
"Drachamaru, you don't have to be the boss of me!"
Yeah, she was still angry at me. I was sure when she grew up nice and lean standing six feet tall she'd think differently. Right now she's still stuck on want she wants, not what she needs, and being silly about it. Daddy said it was a phase she's going through, which is funny because it wasn't like that way before.
"I'm not the boss of you, Gobo. I'm just looking out for you."
"Why?"
"Because I'm the oldest of us. If you don't like it, go back in time and make it so your fanny was first out of Mom."
I try to make things simple for my sister, but this time I must have bewildered her. She doesn't do well with the whole 'back in time' thing. Instead she likes the present and the future. She sat there staring dumb out at the wall. After a while, she looked like she dismissed the idea and went back to eating.
Then Dad came into the room. He was all dressed for work and smelled a little like aftershave. His kind of work required distress on the other end. This could mean he wasn't going to work today, or could mean that he would be called to duty at any time. His eyes roamed the interior of the kitchen and then focused into Gobo's eyes, then mine.
"How are you two bumbles doing today?"
My dad uses a lot of weird words to call us. It's sometimes funny what he comes up with. Mom used to explain to us what they meant; now I have to look them up, but they don't always make sense because every once in a while he makes them up.
"I'm good Daddy."
"I'm good Dad."
He paused like he was trying to find the true meaning of our words, but then he sat down loudly and reach for the fruit bowl we keep in the middle of
the table. Pulling it towards him, he scooped up one of the apples and bite into it hard. He chewed it and then swallowed. His face, which had previously been pleasant and semi-thoughtful, turned stern, although still a little nice, and his gaze fell back onto us.
"Gobo, did you drink all your milk."
He must have spotted the remains of the white liquid on the cup's walls. Gobo shifted in her chair like she had an important announcement.
"Yes, Daddy"
"And you, Dracha: any milk?"
"No Daddy, I had water."
He pointed his thumb over to the refrigerator while his eyes went up and he took another bite of his apple. I knew what he meant; he wanted me to get some for myself. I was going to wait until he told me to though, because technically he hadn't really given me an order yet. I busied myself in watching Gobo move all the pieces leftover in her bowl to one place so she could eat them collectively. She glared up at me again and retorted.
"What?"
"Nothing…"
My little sister was blowing my cover!
"Go get some milk, Drachamaru."
I eased up on my pained expression I'd etched on my face when I turned over to him. His stern look had returned to his eyes and he watched me with his head tilted upright as if to make me feel even smaller than I already was.
I slunk off my chair and over to the fridge to have some milk. My Dad got up and stood behind me. He opened the refrigerator door and took out a bottle of coffee and then went over to the stove to pour it into a pot and heat it up. That's his version of premade coffee. He monitored me as I grabbed the milk container and set it on the countertop. After I clambered up on the counter to reach the glasses from the cabinet above, Daddy came over and poured me a full glass of milk.
"Drink it."
He left to go back to heating his coffee, but I was too busy staring down a monster of a cup filled to the brim with milk. Gobo giggled. My eyes darted to hers and I glared at her for a good long while before my dad reminded me to start drinking. I picked up the glass carefully, to avoid spills. I took a back glance over to my daddy and he was looking at me like if I didn't drink it Hell would rise. I put the glass to my mouth. It was bad enough I had to look at it, but now I had to smell it every second I kept myself from doom, knowing full well I'd soon have to taste it.
I took a sip. It was horrible. I took my time getting down my throat, waiting for my gag reflex to kick in. I thought if I could just throw it up, Dad wouldn't make me drink anymore than I already did.
"If you spit that out, I'm gonna start loosening my belt."
I could see my plan fade before my eyes, and so I went to plan B: chug the whole thing down. My sister was a master at this. It's as though her taste buds stop working if she doesn't allow it to stay in her mouth for more than a second.
Before my senses could tell what I was doing, I jammed the cup into my mouth, nearly chipping one of my teeth. I gulped it down really fast, but it was like it magically refilled itself. I choked halfway.
Quickly, I moved the cup away from my mouth and slammed it on the counter. I put my other hand to my mouth as I hiccupped, causing the milk to splash up my nose. I caught a glance of my dad's face. He looked frustrated. For a minute, I couldn't breath. I thought I was going to die. Gobo's face was etched with worry; milk was spilling from my nose and mouth. I could see the headlines in the paper: DUMB KID DIES FROM MILK.
And then I swallowed… and burped. I straightened up, suddenly feeling better. I wiped my nose and mouth. I snuffed up the rest of the milk in my nose and swallowed. My dad looked grimly concerned and asked if I was okay. Nodding my head, I turned to look at the milk cup. The milk inside was still swaying with milk dripping down the side of the cup and down the side of the counter from when I had put the cup on the countertop.
Before I did anything I knew I'd have to do about it, Daddy came over and took the glass. Wiping it with a dishrag, he asked me if I was all ready for school. I nodded. Dad nodded too, looking far off.
"You better start walking; it'll start in about half an hour."
"Yes, Daddy"
"Gobo, how about we both go to the park today?"
"Yes, thank you, Daddy"
Dad brought the still half-full cup to my attention.
"This'll be waiting for you when you get back."
"Yes, Daddy"
"Drink it… and hold the theatrics."
I looked at the ground.
"Yes daddy"
"Good: go."
I rushed away from him and looked for my bag in the muck of all the other stuff in the hallway by the door. After I wrenched it out, I slung it on my left shoulder and took a glance in the mirror. This was something Mommy used to make us do before we left. I could see Gobo bouncing up and down in her seat listening to Daddy's fun packed day for her. She bounced so much; her baby slid off her lap and fell on the floor. She stopped to pick her up by grabbing her by the foot.
I looked back to my reflection. I shook my fingers through my hair to make it stick out more. I smirked at the other me, nodding my head in satisfaction. I went half way to my great aunt's when my dad poked his head into the hall suddenly. We looked at each other through our reflections.
"What are you going to do at school today?"
"Be nice, play fairly, no cheating on tests, eat all my lunch, not throw things at people, don't tease them, and pay attention-"
My dad smiled.
"In other words: behave!"
I started walking backwards to the door, still keeping eye contact with Dad. I did another smirk, raising my eyebrows and shrugging.
"What don't I always?"
Out of the corner of my eyes I could see him smile and shake his head as I turned around to open the door. The heavy door gave way to let in a hefty amount of chilly wind before I was able to close it. I looked around my block. The frigid air woke my sense up as I pulled my hood over my head to keep my ears from getting cold. The sky was so white with clouds and little flurries of snow waved around in the breeze as I walked down my sidewalk towards school.
