To whom it may concern:
I do not claim ownership to any of the intellectual property of Masashi Kishimoto. Note that US copyright law declares fanfiction to be a derivative work where the content of the writer is protected should its originality be sufficient. I know my originality is more than sufficient. Should you however feel offended by the use of this work, I will be amiable to remove it. I request that you contact me should you require this. Please note that this message applies to all chapters of this work.
-The Writer
~Preface~
Idly he wondered why no one had ever tried it before. The clouds towered above, hiding secrets untold to man. The contraption he was dragging behind, a bird-shaped mass of wood and cloth, was likened to a bird only in the greatest stretch of imagination, yet it was adequate for the "flight."
The boy, smaller than the contraption, though not by much, had a dumb smile on his face. This could not go wrong, at least more than it already had. It was a bright idea upon the wrong person at the wrong time. The extent of technology, closed circuit televisions and radios, implied an advanced industrial society, but the arcane devices were always assembled by artisan electricians, and factories and mass-production were nowhere to be found. Technology never seemed to progress, only regress.
Of course, there were inventions. New ways of killing in the ever-elongating wars that rip smaller countries to shreds and larger countries weather at the cost of entire generations of men, and, recently, women. Perhaps the nature of the Elemental countries begat the incessant focus of the intelligent on how to better kill the dredges that form the armies of Daimyos' wars.
Perhaps such a war-like society would generate pacifistic sentiments, but it seemed that even the forces of heaven wanted war. In times of peace, enormous demons would stalk the land, perhaps in coincidence, requiring an everlasting military presence. The professional soldier, known as a Knight in western culture, lives in combat called a Samurai, or Ninja, eliminating the common footsoldier from larger wars. Perhaps these days were simpler, where if there wasn't a fight, the necessary military made one.
The average human, a poor sustenance farmer on the outskirts of the larger countries, often suffered the most from conflicts. Their lands ravaged on any occasion of war, the outer area of a country never had the economic integrity to construct infrastructure, and never could dig themselves out of the hole of poverty.
Seemingly strait out of modern ones, cities in the Elemental countries were often of skyscrapers and steel giants that are never built; only kept, the ability to build them long gone. Cities built by average humans tended to be of wood and paper, and they made up the majority of housing, even if radios and closed-circuit televisions can be made.
One can conclude, from all this, that the Elemental countries were a land once touched by great technologies and knowledge, now lost to the ages, the proponents of which now make meager livings as artisans due to incessant conflict. Flight, the pinnacle of the human experience, allowing for Globalization, may have never been discovered, or perhaps it was lost among the ages, until one boy had an idea.
Thus, the boy made it to the top of the hill. The clouds, not an inch closer than from the bottom, floated effortless seemingly mocking him. The sun shone higher in the sky than when he had begun his trek, and now he stood on top of the hill, positioning his "bird" so its wheels would lead it downhill to gain momentum until it hit the ramp he had placed at the bottom. The ramp would launch it in the air, where it would allow him to fly and meet the clouds.
The contraption swiveled out of control before it even got to the ramp, crashing into a tree and falling to pieces. The boy later blamed his crying fit on the fact that everyone in his "village" seemingly dislikes him. Moving on.
The boy's life would be a fight for this gift, perhaps to unify the world in the glory of flight, or maybe to, like his father, destroy an entire generation of men with a new facet of weaponry. Perhaps the fight is not in the gift of flight, but the confliction between its uses.
From that I bid thee to judge what ye will upon the actions of this boy, for his story is one much told that perhaps, with the wisdom of a new age we can dissect for the true knowledge he holds, and cast away the accursed mask assaulting our minds.
~Age 10~
Today is the day he thought as he jostled in his seat. This time it will work. I know it.
The words around him didn't matter. Someone was talking to him, though they might as well been talking to a brick wall, for he wasn't paying much attention.
A few hours and I'll be flying.
As the flustered teacher walked away, Naruto Uzumaki mulled over his predicament. First I have to go home and dump this stuff, then get everything ready.
Today for him marked the culmination of ten years' worth of his effort (he was 10 now). With luck today he would finally fly. Of course, it isn't the only time his efforts have culminated. Without success, the boy known as Naruto has launched flying machine after flying machine off of the Hokage Mountain. Not in the direction of the village, of course; the mountain has other cliff faces miles from the city.
Getting there after this much practice shouldn't be a problem. It didn't take the young Uzumaki long to learn that he wasn't allowed out of the city. Why, he didn't know, but a long time ago he found a way out; a series of tunnels near and inside the Hokage Mountain and going under and away from Konoha. The junction of these tunnels was conveniently spacious for his projects.
Here he planned to go after his confounded classes finally ended. 'Home' he called it, because he moved his workshop out of his apartment a long time ago. The apartment now is only what he calls 'a place to crash,' and indeed he crashes a lot.
Eventually class ended and he traveled quickly to his apartment to drop off his books and academy supplies. Kunai, Shuriken, these tools did not interest him, nor did the life of a Shinobi. He didn't remember life before the academy, and whenever he confronted the teachers about why he was there, they would only mutter about "the Hokage's orders" and return to what they were doing. He showed up, of course. When he failed to, the ninja in the masks came and took him back. Sometimes they would even stay there to make sure he was in class.
These tools hastily discarded, he changed out of his ninja fatigues (consisting of a black shirt and black pants) into his flight suit. A garish, orange ordeal, the "flight suit" he wore was not the most practical garment at all. His love for it seems to be held by himself alone. He does not wear it to class, however. He only wears it when he plans to fly.
The city passes him by with disdain: a thing he never truly bothered to understand. It was always that way. There were of course periods where this caused him tremendous angst, but he got over it. It is hard to live like that, he would conclude, full of hate and enmity for all those around him. It is easier to live in apathy, living away from people, immersed in that which he loved: flying.
A smile grew on his face. The thought of flying makes him happy. He is by no means unemotional, as his relationship with people might suggest. He is perfectly happy to live alone. Yes. Perfectly happy. His smile disappeared.
He reached the tunnel entrance, girding himself for potential failure. He always failed, but his strength is not in success, but dogged perseverance. This time, maybe things would be different.
The tunnels twisted and turned going down in a combination only he had memorized. Eventually he entered a large room. The Junction, he called it. A cavern with a high ceiling perhaps fifty meters up, this room had become Naruto's home away from home. In various corners, there was storage of food and supplies, a bedroom and bathroom (installing plumbing was hard, but he wasn't going to build a latrine), a power generator, and a junkyard for all his failed machines.
In the center of it all was the workshop. Chalkboards with schematics arranged in a semi-circle surrounding his latest contraption. A few spacious work tables finished the rest of the circle, and tools and parts littered the ground. The flying machine was the latest on the line of ever-failing devices.
This machine might be different, however, because it had a different design from the "bird" design that he usually used. He had experimented with paper airplanes and wooden designs that would fly, and discovered that making the wings larger didn't significantly help it stay in flight, which led to Naruto examining the shape of bird's wings. This led to no significant discovery, but this specific design incorporated a differently shaped wing: one that inadvertently utilizes the aviation principle now known as lift.
Its wings aside, its cockpit was minimalist: a board with a strap. Turning would come later. Crawl before you walk, as they say. Its back extended into a tailfin of sorts. A board jutted up from the back to stabilize its flight.
He didn't understand that shaping a wing to force air particles above it to move faster than those below would cause high pressure under the wing, pushing it up. The science was beyond him. He didn't have a proper education, as no ninja would. Who need smarts to fight? Besides, the concepts of aeronautics were lost to the ages with the great crumbling cities. The chance of discovering the key to flight off of trial and error alone was one in a million, but time and time again Naruto would prove those odds were perfect for him.
He began to roll his contraption through the tunnels. Instead of the rough rocky floor, the floor was wooden panels he had laid to allow transportation. The machine rolled the path all its predecessors had before. It was hard work pushing it up. He had worked up a sweat and was breathing hard when it finally reached the top of the Hokage mount. He overlooked a different cliff face than where the faces were carved. This one had a track built into it, hidden as well as Naruto could have managed with foliage. No one really came up here anyway. Even the Hidden Leaf Village had its blindspot.
He set the contraption on the track. Getting the machine to go straight down and launch itself into the air was something he had perfected long ago. Now the issue was preventing it from going straight up and then straight down.
He stepped onto the contraption. He kicked off and the machine began to roll in its tracks. He strapped himself in, a giddy smile on his face. Despite his dark mood, flying was a rush of joy. And adrenaline. As the contraption accelerated towards the ground, the ramp approached. Then it was on the ramp, then it was in the air.
Instead of falling strait down in an arc, the plane flew up in a way right out of its occupant's fantasies. When it reached the peak of its arc, it glided through the clouds faster than Naruto has ever seen any ninja run. The wind forced him to squint. Luckily he had his flight goggles. He put them on.
He yelled in joy. Few miles away, all could hear a distinct "Yeah!" Unfortunately vocalizing at that speed and height was very difficult.
He reached up to touch the clouds. They weren't solid, to his disappointment. He tried to swallow part of one. It tasted like steam, which is to say nothing. Then the machine went into a cloud, and emerged wet. It began its downward arc slowly, gliding down to sullen earth. It was a majestic descent, but as he got closer to the ground he realized just how fast he was going. An impact would be painful, if not deadly.
Luckily Konoha is blessed with an abundance of leaves and branches. Naruto's flight was slowed to manageable speeds as his machine sped, snapping branches and sending leaves flying, towards a tree. With a wise bit of foresight, Naruto jumped off the contraption before it made impact. With a terrible crack the flying machine struck the tree and became splinters and scrap. With a sigh of relief and a tired laugh, Naruto landed harmlessly on the grass.
"I can fly!" He remarked to himself.
~To Be Continued~
A/N:
As I try hard to conform to the writing styles and rules of fanfiction while actually bringing meaning in a story to the table, I humbly ask that any reader who has enjoyed the previous work to review. I will answer any reviewer's questions in the next chapter.