Chapter 1 – The Firstborn
Disclaimer: I do not own any
of the rights to Naruto. I only
claim ownership on the story
ideas, and my OCs.
Nitamo woke. It was the same dream again. He never could remember anything from the dream after he was awake, besides a boy with yellow hair, smiling at him as he sailed away on a ship. Nitamo didn't know, or didn't remember who the boy was, and he had no idea where the boy was sailing to, but he felt as though they were connected in some way.
Nitamo looked out the window. It wasn't light out yet, but Nitamo couldn't sleep. So he got dressed and headed outside to start the day's work. As he walked out the door, he felt a slight breeze hit him from the East. It was a cool breeze, and felt good to start a late spring morning.
Nitamo worked as a farmer in his village, although he was proficient in many different trades. He had grown up in this village, and he could see himself continuing to live there for the rest of his life. He was an honest and hard-working man, man who embraced the teachings of his elders and always gave proper respect to the women in the village. He would often help the people of the village with any small repair work they might need done as he walked to the rice fields to work. His village was small, but that didn't bother him, he enjoyed seeing all of the residents come together in times of need and help each other in a way that wouldn't have been possible for a larger village.
Nitamo brushed his hair out of his face as he continued to walk to the rice field. The farmers of the village were currently transplanting the rice seedlings from the seedbeds and move them to the rice paddies. He would be the first person to get to the fields, and that was fine by him, it would make a shorter work day for the rest of the farmers, most of whom had wives and children, and Nitamo knew that the other men would want to spend as much time with their families as possible, and since he had no family to go home to, it only makes sense that he should do the brunt of the work so that those who had other priorities could have time to do whatever else they needed to do. And besides, working early meant that Nitamo would have some peaceful time to himself to think on his dream.
It wasn't long before the sun rose and warmed the village, and Nitamo had finished quite a bit of work in that short period of time, but for all the time he had to think about that boy with yellow hair, he still couldn't make anything of his dream. Soon all of the other workers arrived, and work commenced as usual. Before Nitamo knew it, the work was done, and he was walking home again.
On his way home, however, he decided to go inquire of the village leader, the Omoidekage, to see if he could decipher the dream that had been on Nitamo's mind.
He arrived at the tall building, painted to blend in with the Forest behind it so perfectly that you would miss it if you didn't know where to look. Nitamo walked into the main office of the building and asked the woman behind the desk if the Omoidekage could see him at the moment. The young receptionist glanced down at a paper before telling him that he could head right up. She directed him in the correct direction and then returned to her desk. Nitamo knocked on the door to the office, he then heard the voice from inside the door bid him enter. He did so and, upon entering, was told to close the door. Again he did as he was told, and then turned back to face the Omoidekage.
The Omoidekage was an older man in his late sixties. He did not look like the strongest sort of man, but Nitamo would never have called him weak. He was a man who had spent his life as a shinobi, and was once feared as one of the greatest shinobi to have walked the earth. He had an authoritative air about him, and everyone in the village respected him as the wise leader he was.
Nitamo walked forward, into the middle of the room and noticed all of the shinobi artifacts that hung on the walls of the office. Nitamo's village did not have a shinobi force, so it was interesting to see all of the different weapons of war that were used by them. Nitamo himself had been trained to an extent as a shinobi early on in his life by the Omoidekage, as did every able and willing man of the village, to be able to protect the other citizens should the need arise.
The Omoidekage was the first to talk. "I can tell something is bothering you, my boy. Come, have a seat and I'll call down to Anna for a drink." He said as he walked towards the door. "What would you like?" "Just a cup of water is fine, thank you." Nitamo replied as he sat down in a seat in front of the desk.
The receptionist soon came into the room with two glasses of water. She set them down on the desk and left the room. "Lord Omoidekage…" Nitamo began before being cut-off by the Omoidekage raising his hand. "Please," the Omoidekage said "You needn't call me by my title here. You can just call me by my clan name, Uchiha."