Ehm, I was bored. So I wrote a short, majorly pointless drabble. w00t!
Disclaimer: Not mine. I did, however, get a forehead protector as a late b-day gift from my aunt. I'm very proud o' that.
I sit here on the edge of the fountain, drawing. People pass me, and I try to capture them onto the paper fast enough. I never did bother with that whole ninja stuff, my brother was killed on a mission and I wasn't prepared to meet that same fate. So I stayed in Konoha, safe behind the walls, and expressed my thanks for this town in other ways.
I'm an artist. I write, I draw, I paint. I'm happy. I see little kids longing for adventure, longing to be a ninja, just like the people they admire most. I look at the genins, chuunin's, jounin, Anbu... and I wonder how different my life would be if I were mixed up in that. I ponder why people strived to become greater. I see several chuunin's; I wonder why they decided to become ninja's.
I catch some of their eyes, and give them a small smile, to encourage them. I see people scowling at me because I'm just an artist, not a ninja. I draw all of that, even the hate people have for me.
I see people wanting. Wanting to be stronger, wanting to be recognized, wanting... just wanting.
Sometimes I'll catch the eye of some one, some one who'll stare at me, just for a moment, as if they'd give anything to be the one sitting on this fountain, drawing. With their eyes, they question if I'm happy, if I enjoy life and all its beauty. I smile, saying yes, and get back to drawing them.
But never have I seen anyone like him. Someone who I just had to draw, and draw perfectly, flawless. He looked so... lonely. Like he wanted to be loved. He was attractive enough that I'm sure he could've gotten a girl friend, but he didn't want a girl friend, he wanted love, respect... all that stuff.
I stare at him, for a moment, and for a brief second, he stares back. His pupilless eyes examining me. I wonder what he's thinking about. If he were just an artist like me, I wonder if we'd paint the sunrise together, or perhaps draw each other. I wonder if he were just an artist like me, would I even have ever gotten to look at him, like I have now?
He walks away, after smiling sadly. The expression on his face, the expression of loneliness and regret, like he could've been happy if he were sitting there with me. I wish he had been... I wish I could've given him the love he needed.
After I sketch his face onto my sheet of paper, working so hard on the expression, until it was flawless, I begin to shade his face in. I add misty shadows to his eyes, almost hiding the reflection of myself in them.
I needed to make him know, that he was alone with someone. I wanted him to know that I understood his loneliness. I wished I could cure it.
It didn't take long to find out who that boy was. Supposedly he was some hot shot rookie of the year a while back. It made me even sadder for him when I found that out... so lonely that he trained so much, so lonely that he had to become strong in order to get recognized as something other than just another shinobi.
In the bottom left hand corner of the paper I had drawn on, I write three words of advice I want him to follow.
He opens the letter addressed to him in a large yellow envelope folder thing. I stare at him from behind a bush, and watch as his lips curl into a small smile, as he mutters,
"Find your happiness." He mutters.
I didn't sign the drawing. I didn't give any clue that could make him think of me, but a look in face told me that he knew. He whispered to nobody,
"I will..."
An: Totally random, I was just sooo bored and wanted to write something. Sorry for wasting your time like this.