Talons
Summary: In which Minato comes home, a little something less than human. Or maybe he has always been this way.
That flaxen haired young man looked out as he leaned over the railing of the old steamship. He had not seen home for some time and all he could think about was having a piping hot cup of tea. The bitter but sweat smelling substance. He would long to have it scorch his throat.
"Minato-san." Came the hesitant call and he turned to the man with his tired, crystal blue eyes and the wind gently lifted up the thick strands of hair and he smelled food and fresh water in the air. Minato almost could not hear the dark haired ninja. He himself had recently became an anbu, at least to him it was recently and the other was already an established Jonin.
"Ah, I have come here on behalf of the hokage and my own curiosity. It's not my style, kid, really." He continued awkwardly. "I have been told you refuse to become a jonin, although your stats say otherwise. You may think this job is boring or something and it is, but, shit. I am really am not good at this." Shikaku cursed as he scratched the back of his head.
"It is not the job itself that I don't agree with." Minato said quietly and he was sure he made the older man a tad bit confused, but he offered no explanation. He was tired actually. His muscles ached and his head was beginning to throb as he closed his eyes and saw images of burnt, contorted bodies. He didn't answer the older man as he went on with whatever he was saying.
He began to draw a blank. Kushina was, well she was something. He loved her but he wasn't sure if that was the kind of love he wanted it to sound like. He had admitted that he became interested in many things and he would always be that way. His teacher had called it a short attention span, but Minato called it a revelry. He would stop, not in the heat of combat, but he would stop and looked at the vast, massive, strong trees of his home.
He would make a list of all the pretty things he saw, all the ugly things he knew, and all the things he wanted.
He saw the green grasses, the wild flowers, the bushes and groves. The edge of the river banks, with water so clear it almost seemed wrong to swim in it and taint the crystal water with his body. The blood of his enemies, his blood, the dirt and grime on his hands. The hands that broke, destroyed but never really created. The people of his village deemed him one of those pretty things in their list and he would disagree. He wasn't pretty if he could hate, love and bask in the defeating of another, the killings, the blood.
The ugly things were vast and abundant. The world was ugly. People, his friends would talk fondly of the times they had when they killed villagers, Konoha trampled and stampeded again and he never understood it. They were not invincible. He could be killed, he could be on the opposing side. The blood he watched drip to the grassy grounds of his lands other lands they never were beautiful. A poet might say so to entrance an audience, but that would be a lie. Minato hated lying. So he hated himself even more. 'What more could I do?'
He wants to die old and have lived to seen many things. He wants a life that does not consist of killing. He wants to wake up from a dream, not a nightmare. The quilts wouldn't be soaked and he would have no fears. He wants to never have to go through this.
He looks up once more at the skies and he sighs as he breathes in the air of his home. The excited voices of his fellow shinobi, the relief that they had lived, killed and would see so many pretty things. It was disgusting and he grunted, he had never grunted.
He was the first to step off the ship, it had not docked but he had jumped off.
He was almost there and he felt that damnable itching creep up his side. He did not what to be there, he was not sure he ever had.
He wandered aimlessly and he imagined that he looked strange, his anbu mask in his hand as he stared at the bustling little town. The women giggled and he saw a mother struggling with groceries as she looked behind her to see if her little boy was still there.
How would they die? Would she be willing to hush his cries and tell him not to worry or to close his eyes?
"Minato-kun, you're back." Kushina smiled broadly as she hugged the blonde shonobi tight and Minato forced a smile and he hugged her back, his was over quickly and she did not notice that his hugs were always that way.
Minato looked at her long red hair it moved with her as she laughed about a joke she had told him and he smiled at her, like he always did and ate quietly, while she ate in large portions and told the dirtiest of jokes straight from the taverns. But he just accepted that Kushina was pretty that way. She was loud and obnoxious and he couldn't imagine her any other way.
They always sat together like this at the small yet highly popular ramen shop, eating talking, well mostly Kushina about the day the whether their latest mission and sometimes he berated himself for feeling the slightest tinged of joy when she had that look of defeat in her dark eyes. Those were moments of silence that he basked in. He would hide his smile or at least make it appear to be a sad one.
Her eyes are too happy. But she is just frightened. The demon inside her, the friends she does not have but wants. The way her eyes look at me. But, I am not her array of hope.
Her delusions, he had never influenced them or tried to strengthen them, no he was not that kind of man. He was a shrew individual, he always did things for a reason. He made friends because he was expected to. He became a shonobi because he came from a long line of them.
Some of which whom had the pleasure of being the Senjus medics, couriers, and fighters. He bore his surname with pride but he had a feeling no one would remember it, his clan which became diluted. He had a feeling that people would assume and assume wrong.
"You are a hero" His student's hesitant voice came and he looked down at onyx eyes, the boy was going to die if he believed that. The other two, the sweet yet incredibly oblivious girl, stared at the silver haired boy longingly, while that boy ignored there stares and stared off into space. He was most likely going over the rules of the shonobi in his head.
Minato did not contest with boys' statement he did not ignore but stared long and hard as if he were trying to detect a lie.
He had been hailed a hero and he wanted to scream out in protest, he was not a hero for killing, for killing more than his brethren. His beloved student died, an innocent boy and yet. His home, this earthly place full of loyalty branded him with a title but he figured it was just. He had been named Hokage, he deserved to know that every time he deployed his ninja on a mission that they were likely to not come back. His eyes were as flat as water but he made it believable for everyone to see him as the hero. He never influenced it, he just gave it, whatever it was, enough prowess to be thought of as the truth.
Then his son, his son, the small weeping boy, the wretched girl who laid dying in his arms, who never saw through it but maybe he would. "Naruto." The baby boy continued to cry, this child would be branded but he would never be a hero. Minato made sure of that. The mark of a beast, the hope to end it all, or at least he wouldn't live long enough to be called one to his face.
"I should be the one in your place. Granted you might hate me. But, I don't want this for you. I am sorry this is all I can offer. I hope my soul rots in hell. Your life will be hell but maybe, maybe you can understand me. Maybe you can see that I have not completely damned you my precious Naruto." Minato let a tear escaped and run down his face. He falls down dead. His eyes open staring at the wall gently, he fades from this life. Transparent and unseen. His clan, his life, his love, his son.
What more could I do?
Something terrible has just happened.
I thought it would help my writing if I wrote about a complex character. Minato is a hero, but is he really? I don't think he felt that way at all. No, not really. Well review and whatnot. I think I should focus on Naruto characters following the canon and then place Oc's somewhere in the mix. Look for more Naruto characters and canon plots. Mito is the hardest to me, Madara just makes people fan girl crazy and I feel like Hashirama has a dark side. Naruto and Tobirama have weird marks on their faces and they have a sense of humor. Well Naruto not so much, he just does funny shit. Haha Tell me who I should write about next.