A/N: If you don't get the last line, think of why he gave the fake smile.
Easel
In front of me, the easel
Held a blank canvas.
The paintbrush, I lifted
To the plate of paint.
Today I was going to paint something new
Something with red.
I read that red meant "passion"—
That was an emotion, wasn't it?
Light and dark, the red world
Was a world of emotions,
Like the swirling clouds you see
Up in the sky at dusk.
There was red on the canvas,
Nothing else.
Its color was one of unity and individuality,
Spinning and rolling and exploding and showering.
The painting was too big
For me to carry.
And I had an important mission
On that day.
Danzo-sama wanted me
To infiltrate Team 7 of
A girl named Sakura
And a boy, Naruto.
Before I leave, my fingers touched
The still-wet paint
Across the flimsy thing
We call paper.
It was sticky and cold,
Holding no heat:
It was the blood of a carcass,
Long since dying.
My finger left the work of art,
Yet the slight chill lingered.
I wiped away the red paint
And headed out, but not before looking back.
The water jug, where two brushes lay,
It stared back at me.
Muddied water of crimson drowned
A boy with blank eyes.
I gave a fake smile of farewell,
And opened the door.
The sun meet me outside,
And, for once, I felt warmth.
There was no one in the room.