12:02 p.m.: nine hours thirty four minutes and counting
The afternoon light that blares across my eyelids is the only thing that wakes me up. Of course, after a whole night of working hard to set up for this evening, I would much rather sleep.
But I know that it's a want that can wait…there are still things yet to do.
So, being the reasonable person I am, I get up and shower off the stench of gasoline and gunpowder from the activities of the night before, dress, and then eat a hearty brunch. Chomping away the eggs and rice and meat I made, the ratty calendar on my wall catches my eye.
I know what would be seen as a pleased and knowing smile must have shown its self on my face as I chewed my meal. I was the only one who knew why this particular tenth of October would be circled so enthusiastically with blue and dark red ink.
Yeah…only I knew.
4:10 p.m.: five hours twenty six minutes and counting
I sulk around the apartment for a bit, killing a lot of time. Looked through a few of the scrolls and books I owned, wondering which ones would be the wisest to bring with me. Eventually I decide on my copies of The Catcher in the Rye and A Separate Peace would probably keep me entertained long enough that I wouldn't have to gnaw off my hand.
Packed my clothes quietly, folding them in hopes they wouldn't wrinkle too badly. Clean the dishes and make my bed. Lock all the doors and windows. Gather my bag and look around at my empty apartment one last time.
Locking the door, I'msort of sad to realize that I'm not going to miss it in the slightest
8:20 p.m.: one hour sixteen minutes and counting
I know it's almost time for the show to start. So, as quietly as a shadow, I race from the village, finding the perch in the top of a tree I had found the night before that I had deemed the best seat of the house.
Not too close and yet not to far away.
9:30 p.m.: six minutes and counting
I stare in envy as the lights of the festival flicker happily, the shouts of rejoicing for the defeat of a demon meeting my ears.
The little clock on my wrist tells me that it' two minutes away from the moment of my birth, and a song I often overheard parents singing to their children when they were to turn a year older flittered into my head…
Happy Birthday to me
Happy Birthday to me
Happy Birthday dear Naruto
Even from the miles away where I sat on the top of that tree, I could still feel the tremendous quake the first explosion brought. I watched in sick satisfaction as the once great faces of the Hokage monument crumbled under their own weight, panicked wails and screams rising from the city.
And as the second and third and fourth and fifth planted bombs made themselves known to the people who (not but a minutes or two ago) had been enjoying a festival in memory of their lost ones, the skyline burst into ragged red flames and many billowing clouds of dark black smoke.
Looking at my shoes for a moment, a thought crosses my mind: The skyline must have looked the exact same mixed color of black and red when the Kyuubi attacked the village fifteen years ago.
For a while longer I sit in that high tree top and watch the city burn and listen to the screams and cries of people become more incoherent and crazed as building begin to collapse and crumble.
I snort happily as I finally get up to leave, the smell of acidic smoke and the sight of ash clouds throwing the night sky into an even deeper darkness than before at my back. Hopping from tree branch to tree branch, as tears of what I think are happiness and regret fall from my eyes, four little words escape my mouth.
"Happy Birthday to me"
Happy Birthday to me, a child born into chaos: It's only fitting that I leave the place I was born to in complete chaos
9:36 p.m.: count down complete
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Yeah…Happy Birthday my beloved psycho fit of a Naruto, I love you. Sorry to all who are reading my other stories, please don't give up on me. I've been stressed and tired and I am trying to update, please keep that in mind as you curse me under your breath for not updating in almost a month.
Coffee is appreciated more than cookies…