I can't believe I'm doing this.
This is just a random idea floating off in a corner of my mind. I just think that Naruto could be a lot darker if you changed the tone of the writing. And I find it more interesting like this. I haven't found a single story that portrays a non-bright/peppy girl in the right way, really… at least, none that come to mind at the moment. There probably are. Or not. I don't know.
Extended author's note at the bottom. Please read it.
29 September 2012 UPDATE: This chapter has been edited.
Also, rating is still T, but there is a small pg-13 scene at the end. REALLY nothing graphic, it involves SEX, okay? If you're not cool with that, I'm sorry. Read at your own discretion, please.
N
chapter one
December 2007 – journal entry, cont.
...
Anyways, I've been reading fanfiction again, even though I swore off it a few months ago. Forgot how addicting it can be. I'm focused on Naruto right now.
Why are there so many about normal people warping to the Naruto world? They're so annoying. Girls who are all bubbly or sarcastic, losers or talented, "ugly" or beautiful. They call themselves "normal," and go out and all of a sudden they're the youngest most beautiful little princesses in the land. Haha, or even better – the main character is "dark." Ooh, mysterious past? Sexy scars? History of a hundred triple black belts in judo and karate and kung-fu? And of course, she finds her one true love in the end, blah blah.
It's actually kind of funny. But how can people be so naïve? Like hell a normal person would survive in the Naruto world. I mean, come on! Little kids are killers. So-called "prodigies" definitely don't seem to be very hard to find. Family massacres are common, kids wander the world with only one teacher, even weak people can walk on water... How the hell can anyone think a "regular teenager" could be thrown into that and survive? There'd be so many issues – and I don't mean romance drama.
Ugh. I guess I let it get to me too much. Well, it's just fanfiction. It guess it is an interesting plot. It's kinda like Twilight, actually – You know it's unrealistic, but it's pretty damn addicting anyways.
Hah, makes me wonder... If anyone offered to let me go to the Naruto world..
..
…
...Oh my gosh. I'm such a dork...
xoxoxo
Life is normal.
I sit, full from the Tanakas' dinner party and content. It had been a housewarming thing, and all the Japanese-Americans in our little circle had come. I smile, remembering the looks on the guys' faces when I beat Sam for the fifth time at Halo.
Mom talks on the phone – illegally, not that she cares – in the driver's seat. Dad is so tired that he looks stoned. Shun is playing a game on his iPad, which would be fine, but he's making loud noises as he plays, and I fight back the urge to snap at him. Usually I would just make him stop with a scathing remark, but I'm happy from all the good food offered at the party. I watch the world outside pass by instead, fingers tapping lightly to the beat coming form my earphones.
It is then that I realize -
Someone is watching me.
We turn onto a short stretch of road that's more narrow than what's normal, with the trees pressing in on us from both sides. I look at the darkness and feel foggy. I'm in a foggy mood. My imagination runs wild in a calm sort of way, imagining all sorts of possibilities having to do with that darkness beyond the trees. I know this part of town well, but it looks different in the dark and I love to imagine.
Suddenly, a dot of red flashes from the shadows. A figure of a man in some sort of shapeless clothing stands by a tall tree trunk, all black in the darkness except for that gleam of red, and I feel like it's watching me.
It is.
Our headlights pass by, and for a second I think I see the color orange, and perhaps a different flash of red. It lasts for only a few seconds as we drive by, but it feels like the car is slowing down as we pass. My eyes are riveted on the figure as both our heads turn just so slightly to follow each other's movement -
And then he's gone, granted invisibility once again by the tress blocking my vision.
For a moment I can't comprehend what I've seen. A man in the woods? My imagination runs free as it thinks up all sorts of possibilities, and soon I can't differentiate whether the incident really happened or not. I dismiss it as an interesting topic to think about, and move on.
Life is normal.
But it's not.
xoxoxo
Sometimes I find red marks on my body, marks I don't know how I got. Sometimes they're even bruises. They disappear quickly, though, and I can't keep track of them. It's not too unusual to me. I get random cuts all the time without knowing the cause. Why should strange bruises be any different?
But there's something a little eerie about it. And lately I've been a bit more jumpy. I feel like there's another presence in the room with me sometimes, invisible. And I haven't watched any horror movies lately.
I don't really know what to think.
xoxoxo
I've been noticing flashes of red lately. Heavy cloaks flap from the darkness, shady silhouettes appear to disappear again in a second… And always, always, I feel like I'm being watched.
It's kind of scary.
xoxoxo
Maybe I'm just hallucinating. I remember season 5 (or was it 6?) of House. Dr. House was hallucinating. Crazily realistic hallucinations, ones that fooled even the genius. Maybe I'm hallucinating too. Am I going crazy?
But I'm not a painkiller addict. I don't do drugs. What is it?
I didn't know hallucinations would feel this real.
xoxoxo
I think I need help.
xoxoxo
I shiver underneath the covers, eyes shut tight to ward against the evil I know is standing in my room. This is the first time I've ever felt such utter fear. It's a feeling that overwhelms and creeps up my spine and just won't go away no matter what I do. All I know is that I don't want to look up to see something that shouldn't be there. I don't want to look up from under my blankets to see something that's only supposed to exist in stories and movies. I don't want to see.
The fear is overwhelming. It won't recede. It just builds. My neck prickles and my arms get goose bumps. I can't stand it any longer. I don't know what to do.
My body feels heavy, as if the presence is leaning over me. I don't want to see, don't want to see, don't want to see…
The blankets lift.
My eyes fly open. Nothing this terrifying has ever happened to me before. What do I do? I never really learned how to scream. I can't act stupid and terrified, because my pride won't let me. When I'm scared, my brain works in overdrive and my mind is completely clear to think up a variety of possible answers as to why whatever happened is happening. I don't know what to do. What do I do? This is unlike anything else. This is real. The appearances, the feeling of being stalked, the flashes in the dark…
This is real.
I sit up slowly, so scared it hurts. Finally, I turn.
It's a man.
He has black hair, somehow spiky even with its long length. A single red eye stares at me from a circular hole punched into an otherwise covering orange face mask. His cloak is black with red clouds.
My heart stutters. I know this man. His name is Madara Uchiha, and he is not supposed to exist. He is a character – the antagonist – of a manga I used to read. Naruto. The world of ninja and betrayal and hypocrisy.
He doesn't speak. We stare at each other for what feels like forever. I can't think of what to do – my rules of logic have just been shattered in a single moment, and there is a fictional character in my room.
He's scarier than I would have thought he'd be.
All of a sudden I feel wearier than ever before, and I fall back into my pillows. I don't want to save the world or deal with fictional characters I might have once jumped at the chance to meet. I want to go to sleep and forget any of this ever happened. I want to rest and forget.
I sleep. I don't forget.
xoxoxo
It's too dark outside. The darkness is different nowadays. It no longer means peace or silence. It means that fictional characters defying the rules of logic and all common sense will appear and bring that stupid irrational fear with their stupid ominous bodies. I don't like darkness anymore. I refuse to look into closed closets or the streets outside at night, and I turn on lights as fast as possible when I enter a room.
I've been going back through the manga lately. Looking up hand signs and rules about genjutsu and ninjutsu and whatever. Halfheartedly memorizing the map of the countries. Trying to remember where each hidden village is.
Even though it's something I don't want to think about, I know it's a possibility that I'll be taken away. I just hope to God only Madara is here. I don't want to deal with the entire lot of them. It's too much even just seeing the one.
I want to be prepared. And so I look at the pictures one last time, discreetly forming my fingers halfway under the under the desk, as if embarrassed to be watching myself do it. It is embarrassing. I've always been overly self-conscious. If I was kidnapped by someone even remotely attractive, my biggest problem wouldn't be only trying to survive, but maintaining my reputation while doing it.
So stupid.
The presence fills the void behind me, and I freeze in the middle of forming the sign for the tiger. The fear fills me again, and I start hearing every creak and crack of my surroundings. I can't hear his breathing. I never do.
"It won't do you any good, you know. We made sure to alter all hand signs a bit so that they won't really work, even if you did use chakra."
After a pause, I manage to croak, "Ah." My voice cracks subtly in the middle. I wish I could clear my throat, but it feels too loud in the thick silence.
My brain goes crazy from his simple statement, coming up with theories and dismissing them in the same moment. I can guess that the Naruto manga is something run by someone from the "manga" itself. Perhaps Kishimoto is a special ninja. Maybe it's a henge of Madara himself. Or maybe Zetsu, since he can be anywhere at once. I start to delve deeper, but shake myself into the real world. Or can I even call it real anymore?
"Your name. What is it?"
He speaks in Japanese. I briefly thank God that I was born Japanese. Imagine if I couldn't understand him. (My mind goes off on a tangent again. If he comes to Earth often, wouldn't he know English? Why is the original even in Japanese? They might not even speak it there… And so my inner ramblings continue.)
"Rei." I'm afraid if I speak in more than one-word answers, I'll start rambling aloud, too. It's a nasty habit of mine.
He speaks again, voice deep and somehow terrifying. "I've been watching you for a while now."
And he doesn't even know my name? I find it unlikely. Probably said it for dramatic tension or something. Maybe he didn't know how to start the conversation going. But what am I supposed to say to that?
I believe I am hysterical.
"I've noticed," I finally reply.
Suddenly the presence moves – or rather, disappears to reappear in another place – and my chair is shoved backwards into my bed. I'm trapped between two arms and pushed against the back of my seat, with an orange mask and that fear-inducing eye staring me down. I notice vaguely, ah, this is what it's like to be that girl in those shoujo mangas, trapped between the arms of a male. I always thought it was incredibly sexy when a guy did that. Now that I'm in that position myself, I can't say I like it much.
The lights are off. Were they always off? It's too dark, too dark, too dark...
He doesn't say anything at first, just looks at me in silence, tracing my face with a gloved finger, lasers beaming through my clothes as he takes in my body. The funny thing is, his head barely moves as he does it. Vaguely, I wonder how he takes in my entire body with his face so close to me.
Vaguely, vaguely, vaguely. Everything I do, I do vaguely. I can't think. Everything's hazy. It feels too real to be true. But I don't think I'm dreaming.
I feel his breath for the first time, washing over my face in a hot wave. I realize his mask must be off. Kishimoto hasn't shown us his face so far, and I'm curious for a second, before remembering this is real life, and a fictional character is trapping me to my chair. A powerful fictional character who shows no mercy. The fear rises again.
My heart pounds harder as the breath washes over my face slowly, arms coming together to clutch at my shoulder and cheek. I search my mind to find the right word to describe how I feel.
One hand caresses my cheek slowly while the others runs lightly down my side. I shiver and, embarrassingly enough, feel like I'm blushing. I wonder if I am. I hope not.
He leans close to my ear and bites at it. It doesn't hurt, just feels strange. It's the first time a guy has done that to me. It's something lovers do. It's something dreamed about by countless teenage girls all over the world.
x
It's a man said to be a hundred years old. It's a man who's not supposed to exist.
x
A throaty whisper: "I've found you."
xo
.
xo
It's too dark.
xoxoxo
I don't like to shower anymore.
I used to spend ages in the stall, thinking and singing like most people do. But now I try to enter, wash, and leave as fast as I can. The shower stall is too small a place. It makes me feel contained and trapped – and vulnerable, just a naked, weak girl with no power at all. Someone could hurt me, kill me, rape me, and no one would rescue me.
But it is a necessity, so I turn on the water and wait.
At least my parents are downstairs. They're going to leave soon for something at Shun's school, but if I really hurry I might be able to finish my shower before they leave. I can scream if something shows up -
I force myself to focus on my reflection in the mirror. I've been too paranoid, lately.
My face looks paler than it once was. It's smaller, too – I haven't been eating as much these last few weeks. I've never been fat, but now I look at my arms and think they definitely look too skinny. Have I always been like this? It might just be my imagination, but I think my hair looks a little thinner, although my natural waves are still there and the color is as brown as ever. A small, vain part of myself is relieved.
The water has become hot enough to steam up my mirrors, so I swallow and start to take off my clothes. It feels like I'm walking to my demise, but this routine has felt like that for weeks now. I ignore the feeling and fold my clothes semi-neatly on the counter. Then I walk into the shower stall.
Shampoo, rinse. Conditioner. So far, so good. My parents haven't left yet and I'm almost done. I reach for the body wash -
He's outside.
He's outside the shower stall.
He's there.
He's here.
My heart is thumping too fast, like I'm having a heart attack or something. My stomach hurts, as if my gut was twisting around and trying to jump out of my body. I can't breath can't breathe and the water's too hot.
He parts the curtain.
He enters.
And then he is standing in front of me.
I am frozen. What the fuck do I do I do I do? I'm naked and he's there and he's shirtless and ohmygosh I'm naked and he doesn't exist why is he here why why why why let me scream can't scream help me get out get out get out GO AWAY -
He steps forward. I step back.
He steps forward again. I step back – but this time I'm pressed against the wall. The sudden cold does nothing to sharpen reality. I'm still in a foggy daze but at the same time everything's too real -
His chest touches mine. My hand jerks back, and something clatters to the floor.
I hear the garage door open downstairs.
No.
The car starts, the familiar bustle of the engine murmuring faintly from downstairs.
No no no no don't go
The garage door sounds again, and I can't hear the car anymore.
Nonononononono
He slides a knee between my legs, and his arms grasp mine almost gently. I want to cry. His hands start to rub my arms like he were petting me or something. But his intents aren't that innocent, I know. He is shirtless and I am naked. No one's at home anymore.
I don't need his whispered reminder.
"No one's going to hear you scream."
It's okay; he doesn't need to worry. I don't know how to scream.
Maybe I'll learn today, though.
xox
xox
xox
xoxoxo
chapter end
I'm supposed to be doing my homework right now. But I didn't want to, so I wrote this. I am so screwed.
I just want to say, as a quick little note, that all OCs can be categorized as a Mary Sue in some way or the other. After all, stories about completely normal girls in normal situations acting normally just aren't interesting. They have to be special in some kind of way; otherwise, why are they there?
This is just a test. I want to know if anyone likes this kind of story. If not, I'll take it down and maybe write a little when I'm in the mood. If people like it, I'll try to keep writing.
I've been procrastinating on my other stories that I feel like a real bitch, posting this. I don't think I should write ongoing stories. But I can't help it. All the interesting stories are the ones that go on for a while. But then homework stacks up and I get tired and flute and orchestra and…
Just… I'm sorry. I have a crappy work ethic, I am irresponsible, conceited, and just a plain bad person.
Please review. I need to know whether people are going to read this or not. Otherwise, I guess I'll just delete it. Tell me if it's bad, too. Whatever you want. Tell me what you had for dinner last night. Your favorite teacher. What you want to work as when you "grow up". Latest random idea. The name of your crush. Whatever.
I love you all :)