A/N: Well, been hooked on this show for a while and needed to get this out of my head before it chocked every single thought I'm capable of. That said, to my followers that don't know about this, the show is called "Randy Cunningham: 9th Grade Ninja. You should watch it if you didn't. I think it's worth checking it out at least once.

Anyway, about the usage of "ninja" and "Ninja"... in the show people seems to use it both as a "class definition" (like "swordsman", "archer", etc) and as a name. Hence the whole ninja/Ninja thing.

As usual, I have no idea exactly where I'm going with this thing and beside a few core ideas, I'm making things up as I go. I don't know when I will be able to update it, if I'll keep going on or lose interest (I tend to do that. I'm horribly erratic with the things I do), but for now, I got it out of my head. Yay me!

About the title, it sucks, I know. Nothing better would come, though, so I'll have to stick with it till I get a better one (if it'll ever happen. Chances are, it'll be definitive)...

And I don't have a beta, so errors will be there no matter how many times I read this.

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Invisible Chains

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The huge flames reached high in the sky, their yellows, oranges and reds a stark contrast to the moonless night. People had long fled the old village, leaving behind nothing but belongings and those that had died in the initial attack. It was amidst this chaos that a lone figure stood its ground, holding a giant stone above its head with shaking arms.

"You have caused us all great suffering," it shouted, revealing a young male voice filled with anger, pain and determination. "You do not deserve to walk this land. Not now... not ever!"

The figure's legs buckled under the weight of the stone and the one holding it up found himself on his knees. Blue eyes looked down into a deep hole in front of him and narrowed, the red rim of the mask seemingly following the movement and granting the wearer a far more angered expression than the one he already had.

Down the hole, two small white dots returned the anger and glints of gold moved about, filling the cavern with the sound of metal. "Mark my words," the growling voice of the evil prisoner echoed, barely audible through the crackling and popping of the burning village. "You have only delayed the inevitable. I shall rise once again, and when I do... You will pay. Dearly."

The one holding the rock shook his head, the long red scarf around his neck waving gently with the movement. "Not while I live," he replied. "And you know what that means, don't you?"

A spectral hiss was the reply and the two stared at each other, feeling as if time itself was slowing down to grant them one last confrontation. But time was unforgiving and soon the weight of the stone grew too much on the slim limbs of the one holding it up. With the last of the strength he possessed, the giant stone was thrown on top of the hole. The symbol on it flashed red for a moment, then faded away as it completed its intended task of sealing the cavern and the one within it.

Perhaps one day the evil would rise again, but the figure knew it would be a long time before that happened. So, for the first time in days he let his own body slump to the ground in a messy heap, too tired to care that he was in the middle of a burning village and knowing that his suit, crafted from the feathers of the Tengu, would protect him from the raging fire.

Before falling unconscious, however, he caught sight of blurred figures challenging the flames to approach him with haste. A few moments later he felt two arms hoist him up and carry him away until everything faded into darkness.

But the motion didn't stop for the whole duration of his unconsciousness and when he finally regained enough strength to open his eyes again, what he saw was completely different than a burning village in the middle of the night. It was a wide and long corridor, brightly lit by sunlight coming in through large windows that made the white and blue of the walls look lighter than they actually were. Even the golden highlights and lines of the decorations seemed to shine of their own light.

"Whu... where..?"

The person carrying him slowed down upon hearing his slurred words and tried to hold him better to not cause unnecessary pain. "Try to not move, Ninja," a male voice said. "You don't have any wounds, but that explosion knocked you through the entire field. You have been unconscious for over ten minutes. I knew we shouldn't have let you fight so soon..."

At those words, some memories started to return to him. They were slow in the process, though, and he felt like he was missing a lot of them. He knew he was the Ninja of Norrisville, that he protected everyone from the attacks of monsters and that he was the last line of defense that the entire world had against the Sorcerer, but he could not remember when he had started doing it and why his body hurt so badly and felt so heavy to move. Perhaps the explosion mentioned to him was the reason of his pain.

Blue eyes looked up and focused on the face of the man carrying him. He had a narrow face with dark skin, framed by a short dark brown beard and round shades. For some reason, the Ninja of Norrisville knew that the man was blind and that he was navigating the halls by memory alone.

"I know you," the ninja murmured, feeling drowsy. "I just... can't remember your name. Or why I know you. All I know is that you're really important for what I do..."

"Indeed I am, boy," the man replied, his mouth drawing a light frown. "But that doesn't matter right now. Think you can stay awake till we get there?"

The ninja sighed, then cast his eyes around the hall and caught sight of several kids and a few adults. They weren't many, but every single one had a worried expression while looking at him and the man carrying him.

After a few seconds of that, however, the ninja lost interest and turned his drowsy attention to his hands. They were resting on his stomach and were one of the few parts of his body that didn't feel sore or in pain. He rubbed his fingers against the fabric covering his body and marveled at how it felt. It was like touching a feather. The only exception was the inside of his hands, where the material became rough. Perfect for grasping things and not let them go. There was a belt around his waist and a long scarf around his neck, all made of the same feathery material. Just colored red instead of black.

"Where are we going?" he asked after a while, closing his eyes. The sunlight was starting to give him a headache. He also felt his body sag, but it felt so good that he didn't care. Nor he did care that his senses were dulling and his mind was losing touch with reality.

The ninja heard the man speak again, but his words were so muddled together that he could not understand them. All he could make out was the urgent tone and the increase of the swaying movement that accompanied the man's walk. There were a few more shouts, a door that banged in the distance and finally the feeling of being set down on something really soft and comfortable. Then everything just faded into darkness a second time. The only difference this time was that there was no shifting of scenarios.