Disclaimers: Naruto is not mine.
Warnings: OOC, a lot of OCs, shonen-ai (probably)
A/N: Remember to review!
Dragging his badly injured body out of the busy hospital, he proceeded to head back to his shabby apartment. Normally, one would have been hospitalized in his condition, but not him. He had always avoided the hospital. It was not because of the hateful glares he would receive from the staff, patients or visitors. It was also not due to the possible 'accidents' that would suddenly happen to him. It was ironic though that the place where one was supposed to be able to heal properly would cause him more injuries. The reason he shunned that place was the depression that would weigh on his soul. He could take any physical injuries since the unwilling tenant in his stomach would heal him. He would even welcome death more. He just couldn't take the despair. He had failed – failed to rescue his team-mate, the one he considered his rival and best friend, from the lies of that snaky freak; failed in fulfilling the promise he made to the girl he liked, and failed the leader of his village as well, the person he loved as a sister; but most of all, he had failed his village. Stubborn tears clung to the edge of his normally bright blue eyes. He had his head down – the very image of despondency.
"Naruto!" suddenly, a sharp female voice called out to him, pulling him out of desolation.
The blonde haired boy forced a smile onto his face. "Saku…"
Slap!
"You freak! I heard from my mother; you are the nine-tailed demon. You have killed so many people in the past and now, you must be the reason Sasuke did not want to stay. You chased Sasuke away!"
Naruto froze. He couldn't move, couldn't defend himself. His wide eyes stared unblinkingly at the tear-streaked face of the girl in front of him. As much as he blamed himself, he still couldn't believe that Sakura-chan would treat him like this. Unknowing to him, the tears he had tried so hard not to let fall escaped his eyes and streamed down his face. In the distant, he could hear the sound of something breaking. Thousands of needles stabbed into his heart. He couldn't register anything else; not the fact that the villagers had joined in in blaming him for every single thing that had gone wrong in their lives, not that they had started throwing things at him – trash, vegetables, eggs, and even shuriken and stones.
Suddenly, something very hard hit the side of his head. The sudden pain brought him to his already weakened knees. His tears were unstoppable, not that he could even think of stopping them. Warm thick crimson liquid turned his sight red, but he did not wipe them away. Distant sharp pains were felt all over his body, yet he ignored them as well.
"Hahahaha…!" Out of the blue, a peel of laughter rang in his ears. Who did that empty laughs belonged to? Why was that person so sad? The voice sounded familiar. Of course it did; it was his! "Hahaha…!" His hollow laughs turned into choked sobs.
At the devastating sight, Sakura was startled out of her own despairing rage. She stared wide-eyed at her team-mate. "Na…" The name couldn't form on her tongue. Guilt ate away at her. "I…"
"What happened here?" the leader of the villagers asked in a loud voice, finally stopping the riot. When she saw the bloodied boy kneeling in the middle of the street, her stern expression turned to one of horror. "Naruto!"
Naruto stopped laughing. He turned to look at the Hokage. "Baa-cha…" His voice was too faint to be heard at the end. The familiar face in front of him swam. It was becoming blurred. Spots of blacks appeared in his vision. Soon, all he could see was black. The sounds were becoming faint until they disappeared. His body was falling and falling, until he couldn't feel anything at all – nothing except the pain of his heart breaking.
"Naruto!"
A young adult sprang awake from the bed in the darkened lavish room. His damp clothes clung to his body; the wet locks to his head and framed his face. He lifted his hand to wipe away the sweats on his face. His breathed in deep a few times to calm himself down. His rapid heartbeats slowed to a normal rhythm.
Knock! Knock!
His sharp eyes turned towards the door. They glowed eerily in the dark. "Come in." His voice was brusque, with not a drop of warmth inside.
A man dressed casually walked in and knelt down in front of him. "It is morning now, Emperor."
The young man in bed nodded his head. He got up and strode towards the bathroom. After a shower, he was revitalized. He dressed in an ordinary dark red garb; one that would allow him freedom to move or fight. A glance in the mirror showed a young handsome face with a head of whitish blond hair. There were nine thin crimson streaks in his hair. A face that any men would kill for and any women would be crazy over.
However, a glimpse at his eyes would have scared even the bravest man into wetting his pants. There was nothing abnormal with them; no third eye, no bizarre pupils, no odd colour – nothing anomalous about them. In fact his eyes were a beautiful blue colour; as blue as the spring sky. It was the intensity of his gaze that the others couldn't endure – as if he could see through their physical essence and psyche into their souls to judge them. Most importantly, they could see the cold flames of Hell in his eyes – pains, sufferings, despair, hopelessness, misery and bleakness; they could see them in the windows to his soul. The once cheerful prankster was no more.
Walking out into his room, he looked at the man, who was his wake-up call, putting the last pillow on top of the tidy pile. With the curtain drawn, the room was bright; the morning sunlight lit up the former dark room, chasing away the gloomy atmosphere. Although the room was spacious, it held simple furniture and decorations – a king-sized bed, a closet, and a set of new-looking sofas with a classy coffee table in the middle. All fabrics in the room were crimson in colour. The light blue wallpapers and a few pots of money plants completed the room. There was no flowers, no arts, no photos – some would probably consider this room bare and not lived-in. To him, this was sanctuary. A comfortable haven after a trying day, a place he could be alone with his thoughts.
"Emperor, the congress had called for an audience with you," the man said, giving a deep bow.
He raised his eyebrows slightly. The congress would never call for a meeting with him directly. Usually, all matters were directed to Kage. Only urgent matters were to consult him directly – for example, wars. He doubted that any other villages would declare war with them since no outsiders knew of the location of their village. It might sound absurd, but it was the truth. He founded this village, which was built on a very strategic island. With the fresh soil here, it was suitable for planting rice and other types of vegetables. Since it was an island, the villagers also depended on the rich sea for their livings.
Even though this island might be a big source of income for the village, it was not the town. The village town was in Kagekagure, the former poor town that had now prospered under his guide. It was famous for its weapons; but the food markets were busy everyday from morning till sunset as well. Ask anyone and they would tell you that the weapons were of the best quality and there was also an abundance of fresh foods to buy, especially rice and seafood. Though, they would also relayed their confusions and curiosities over how the town bounced back from poverty and ruins into the illustrious settlement it was today; and how the town had been safe from the greedy hands when it had not even a shinobi. Some would probably laugh at the ironic reality – a town famous for its quality weapons having no one that could wield them.
That was true. Kagekagure was not a shinobi village. At least, it was supposedly not a shinobi village. To the outsiders, it was just a normal flourishing hamlet. To him and the villagers, the public Kagekagure was the town where they did business; where anyone with money and no intentions for crimes or violence were welcomed. Behind this public stage, was their real village, and that was this island. Their village was true to its name: Kagekagure; kage meaning shadow. The island was the shadow behind the town. He, the true leader hid behind his shadow, Kage, who made appearances in public as the Kagedaime of Kagekagure. Only his loyal people knew of this. When he said loyal, he meant loyal; and that was comprised of all the villagers and no foreigner.
One might say that he was too naïve to think that the villagers would truly be loyal, that they would turn and stabbed him in the back as soon as he fell from the pedestal. He knew they wouldn't. Every single entity in Kagekagure owed him for their lives, and for what they had today. They had sworn fealty to him. Even if someday, someone woke up and suddenly had the idea of betraying him or the village, he had taken measures to make sure that the traitor would not succeed. His power in Kagekagure was absolute.
"Delay my earlier plans for today," he ordered to the waiting man. "And Itsuki, tell Kage to be prepared to take over my duties if the meeting exceeds an hour." Itsuki was his personal secretary and also his chief guard. He held command over his twelve guards and five other troops of guards. Those five troops were the sentinels for the four members of the congress and Kage. Each troop consisted of twelve guards headed by one chief guard that reported back to Itsuki and from Itsuki to him.
"Hai!"
To be continued…