Disclaimer: No, I don't own Naruto, and no, I don't profit off of this, so no sueing.
A/N: This was inspired by the Song Chop Suey. It was going to be a song fic, but my last one didn't turn out so well, so I decided against it.
Also, I don't have a beta, or spell check, so please excuse any errors that I didn't catch.
Warning: This has spoilers for future characters. But since the Manga has gone so far, I'd hope that people'd know about Kaguya Kimimarou and Uchiha Obito.
Lingering Memories
Orange streaks of light shone through blinds and blurred across a faded wood floor. Wincing at the bright instrusion, blue eyes grogerly opened only to be sheilded by a blanket pulled over them. As a bundle under said blanket moved about an arm popped out, pushing the covers away. A tall figure sat upright, mussing blond hair. Mumbling to himself, the man walked across his room, leaving and entering the ajacent washroom, closing the door behind him.
Twenty minutes later, the door reopened, letting steam pour out. The mirror above the counter was covered in condensation. With a tan hand it was wipped away. Naruto looked at himself for a moment, his gaze fixated on the spiral seal on his torso, partly covered by a towel. He quickly dressed, cleaning up the washroom before returning to it. With his seal covered, his eyes now observed the scars on his face. Audibly exhaling, he grabbed a jar and smoothed its contents onto the whisker marks with his thumb, covering them. Looking back up at the reflection, he walked out of the room and locked his front door before shutting it behind him.
He left his keys on the table. After all, he wouldn't need them anymore.
The morning wind blew across a large field, pulling at the small green blades of grass. Pointed spikes appeared haphazardly out of the ground, some angled to reveal the source in the middle. The spiny formation was slightly aged, some of protrusions covered in brown speckles of blood spilled years before.
Sand adorned the ground at the bases of each spike and appeared around a single white flower that seemed to grow out of the center of them all.
The wind weaved its way through the large mass, tugging at it. The fossils groaned and seemed to catch hold of the breeze, twisting it in various ways and speeds to make a noise that could be called a whisper. The soft noise changed from mere inconprehendable sputterings into words and sentences. They grew in volume and the words started to stream together and began to tell a past tale.The tale of a boy who was imprisoned by his own people because he became too powerful. About when the Mist Ninja came and he was the only one who had a chance in the unfair battle, so he was used. About when he had to wander into the forest alone because he was the last of the Kaguya clan now and he had nowhere to go but maybe he could follow that nice man he met, the one with serpintine eyes and that funny purple bow around his waist.
Clouds gathered around the site with thunder on their tails. They blocked out the morning sun with a green canopy of condensation so thick it threatened to drown the earth below. Thunder belowed above, demanding another relapse in history while trying to cover up the bone's gentle memory.
But the bones didn't stop, and they took the darkining mood from the clouds and went on. The sky started to leak water, and rain pelted the ground. The storm rumbled in approval as the story moved closer to the final conflict, the rain cheering it on with gaps in its waterfall that could resemble people.
Orochimaru had mentally congratulated himself in finding such an extrodinary little orphan, good enough to perphaps become his new body someday. Kimimarou always did his best, did whatever Orochimaru wanted him to, after all, he couldn't upset his new adoptive father.
But he was struck ill and sent to his deathbed and soon out of the gaze and interest of the corrupted man.
The boy soon figured out that Orochimaru-sama wanted some Uchiha kid, so he set out to get him, then maybe the sannin would be proud of him again.
He didn't expect a fight though, but no problem, he'd just use his special technique and while his enemies where gaping at his grotesque manuvers he could attack. Moulding and shaping the bones in his own body, he'd pull them out and use them as weapons.
The scene in the drops of falling rain became clearer as it showed two figures fighting.
Kimimarou had met his match, but that red head couldn't protect himself with sand forever, and so, despite the constant pain screaming through every muscle he'd pull out another bone and run forward, intending on squewing his opponet. He hadn't expected to lose nor did he see his sand coffin coming as he was slowly dragged underground.
The rain seemed to flood the middle of the white forest as more sand appeared on the ground, spinning like a whirpool.
He couldn't die like this, he wouldn't die like this and when the sand didn't let him back up he knew that only the curse he'd gotten would save him so he let the second level of it out and it took so much energy for that attack he didn't have any more to hold his breath. Before he died a multitude of bones shot out and nearly killed his opponet.
The rain died down as did the storm after the scene was over. But the storm would come back the next year like it always did, and show the boy's struggle over and over again because the bones were restless and needed the tell their tale even though no one would see it. It would repeat this over and over until somebody knew, somebody cared and maybe they'd find out that his life wasn't in vain and there was a piont to all of this. But that day would never come since the remains always knew that the only person who could make all of this go away, the same one who had taken Kimimarou under his wing, the first one to fully respect his power and strength and all he'd fought for. . .
couldn't care less.
Sasuke stood in front of a large alter staring at the large list of names. They were arranged by date of death because the surnames were identical. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the abandoned compound let alone this faded room. Eight years, nine? He didn't really know and didn't wish to either. He'd come back because Orochimaru was dead now, his own make shift village rioting against him until there were too many ninja to defend himself even with his summoning.
Faintly, Sasuke could hear the murmurs of voices, the soft tappings of footsteps. Knowing no one was there, he didn't turn to acknowledge them this time. If he ignored them, maybe they'd go away.
He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder, why hadn't he sensed them? Turning around quickly, he came face to face with,
no one.
Glaring at the air, Sasuke turned his attention back towards the old Uchiha alter. He gazed through crimson irises, his eyes permanently set in sharingan like his older brother. He'd used it so much, that the chakra suppy to his eyes became constant and involuntary.
Lighting the large arrange of candles Sasuke tried to ignore the presense still behind him. No one was there, and that was just the problem. Ever since he'd been able to activate his sharingan, he'd praticed it till his chakra was exhausted. He would only train outside of the compound though as he had heard his father warn Itachi of using it within the vecinity of the houses when he was younger. Forgeting that simple rule he had walked all the way home one day with his eyes still swirling red, to see a few...unexpected people. To say that Sasuke was surprised would be an understatment as all the people milling about bore the Uchiha crest. Confused, Sasuke let his eyes fade back to black to get a better look only to see that everyone had dissapeared. Shrugging it off as dehydration, Sasuke continued about his daily business.
The next time that it happened Sasuke didn't take it as lightly. A few years older, he was just curious enough to investigate. Only when he got close enough did he realize that the people walking about where the same he had seen seven years ago, before his clan died. What made it all the worse was that if you looked carefully, the people were unnaturally pale, even a tad blue, with gashes around their chests and necks. Lost in thought of his new revelation, he didn't notice one come up to him unitl a cold hand gripped his wrist.
" . . .Uru. . .chi," Sasuke mumbled, shocked to see his deceased aunt again. However, his shock quickly turned into panic as her once clam face turned suddenly angry and her grip on his wrist searingly cold as she twisted it. All but yanking his hand free, he stumbled backwards from her and looked around hurriedly as more and more people started to turn towards him, their faces contored with anger and malice. Remembering what happened last time, Sasuke deactivated his sharingan, the feeling of icy grips instantly vanishing.
He hadn't gone to sleep that night.
Sasuke inwardly shivered at the memories as he watched the candles burn. Gripping a kunai in his left hand, he heard more foot steps as the temperature in the room dropped, his breath now visible. His grip on the weapon tightened as he felt multiple hands grabbing at his arm and shoulders, all trying to turn him around, seeking attention.
Not able to muffle a yell of pain, he felt those cold hands burn through his skin and he turned, knocking a few off. He couldn't use the kunai on his own family to make them dissapear again, he couldn't disable his kekkei genkai anymore, and he couldn't ignore them because they all knew he could see them.
Pushing his way throught the room towards the door hands grasped his arms and torso, all finding a way to stop him. Not being able to look anymore, he shut his eyes. They were all screaming something at him, but he could only hear heated whispers and still see the silent screams sketched on thier faces.
Panic started to take over again and he now shoved his way through the door and down the crowded hallway, the mass of people backing up to the front of the house. Some tried to grab at his fet to hold him steadfast, but he began to run out of their reach. Keeping his eyes closed he felt the open air again, but felt the crowd following him still.
For the second time in his life, Sasuke ran in fear from his own home.
A/N: Alrighty, this was only the prolouge, so sorry for the shortness. I'm not sure on whether or not to actually continue it, if I get enough positive feedback I will. So, does this story deserve another chapter? Yay? Nay? Reveiw!