Disclaimer: No, I do not own Naruto, or anything of high value for that matter.
Chapter 1: Mist
Nightfall blackened the sky, stars blotted out by the passing clouds. The moon was barely visible, it's lights obscured by the passing clouds. A cold wind blew westerly, ruffling the tall trees around the forest. Occasionally, a drop of water would fall from a leaf, gracefully dropping into the grass below, cutting through the thin mist.
Standing underneath those trees, braving the bitter chills, was a young shinobi. Long, black, fringeless hair hung over his face, over the metal forehead protector. A neatly tied ponytail was wet with the moisture in the air, droplets forming. Two scar-like marks on either side of his nose ran down his cheeks, down to his mouth level, seemingly even deeper than it usually would be. His eyes grew intent, waiting patiently, unwillingly.
Stronger winds blew across, but the young shinobi did not stir, his concentration unwavered. He could sense it. Somehow, he knew. He knew the change in the atmosphere, the presence of someone else. Knew that, one way or another, he would have to take the consequences.
"Uchiha…Itachi…" said a cold voice behind him. The young shinobi didn't bother to turn around. He closed his eyes, but otherwise remained motionless. The man stepped out of the shadows, his face completely hidden by a mask, save one eye hole. The artistic patterns on the mask were hypnotising, the lines drawing to his eye. Long, spiky hair flowed down to his waist. A cold, dark aura seemed to radiate from him, his luminous red eyes stabbed into the hearts of people, like a spear through a fish.
Their conversion was brief and straight-forward, but seemed a lot longer. Time no longer had a meaning. Finally, the masked man turned to leave, and although it's impossible to confirm, he seemed to be smiling, not a happy smile, but one filled with evil and chaos. His steps echoed into the young shinobi's ears, as quiet as they were.
The young shinobi continued to stare at the direction of the other man, even after he was long gone, being sucked into a swerving vortex. An eternity passed, but the shinobi did not advert his gaze, didn't even shift his body. A flood of emotions roared through his heart, but his face remained the same, engraved into stone.
The first of sunlight began poking its way out from the horizon, though it was hard to see through the woods. Water continued to drip down, the mist continued to flow. The young shinobi finally turned around and stepped away from the area, leaving shallow footprints behind. Only the tightening of his fist gave his composure away, his knuckles turning white, his nails biting into his sweaty palm. Droplets fell from him as he travelled, silently shattering as it hit the ground.
No matter what would happen, there will be…
Bloodshed.
Author's note: This is my first lengthy-ish fanfiction I've posted. Huge thanks for my "beta readers", Rosebunse and Aelia Uchiha. Reviews will be greatly appreciated. And finally, thank YOU for reading!
Peace.