Description: This is a tale of love and pain. A story about five boys who've all got something to gain. They'll travel, cry, and fight together. The true test lies, in how only one will suffer. Will he accept the lost or seek revenge? One path leads to a road with no end. [Warning/Tags: AU, Gaara, Naruto, Sasuke, Cocky-Shikamaru, Kiba, Many ships like ShikaxGaara, NaruxSasu, ShinKib, ect , Memories, Kidnapping, Yaoi, Murder, Death, Love, Lost, Hate, Possession, Obsession, Action-ish, Guns, Violence, Legends, Hints of Abuse/Rape, suggestive/disturbing language, Angst, Nudity, BLOOD, Dark humor to cope with internal pain suppressed by laughter]

Important Note: The Story Has Been Rewritten! Also, Gaara Has Eyebrows! Everything is revealed over time and or hinted to allow the cogs to turn. As for the ships, you'll see hints on either side and some more than others. Key reasons are age, mindset, and luck. Due to certain events, names are also flipped momentarily to set up the story. It shouldn't be hard to guess whose who. It'll be revealed early on as well. Other than that, I do hope you all enjoy!

Story Symbols: ~/./~ Anything between this is a memory or session ~/./~

\::/ Anything between this means a break to something else or time skip \::/

Everything else is pretty much self explanatory.

Disclaimer: I don't own …. Naruto.

Claimer: Majority of the rhymes or poems are my own creation. If something is not mine, its owner will be referenced.

Post: Every Monday and Wednesday A New Chapter. (This gap gives me time to finish other stories)


~ Once upon a time...~

A small village underwent genocide in the middle of the night. Flames blazed from homes against the dark skies just as bodies young and old were burned to a similar hue.

What was their crime?

Simply suspicion of rebellion against their king.

Of course no such thing was taking place, but does it matter? Paranoia can make anyone take drastic courses of actions. So imagine paranoia in four men and women all ruling one kingdom together.

Every conspiracy thought of was reportedly against their own people.

Like all bad things though, it wasn't always like that. A mindset of this magnitude took time. At the height of their most proudest and noble achievements, fear began to brew. It led them to do many atrocious and unnatural things, for these nobles began to believe that the only way to insure true order was to not only be kings, but god's. And as gods, they needed someone to act as each of their swords.

The 1st King employed a callous redhead named Ishida and a wild man named Toriumi, as his knights.

The 2nd King employed no such knight, but rumored to have kept woman assassins that were rarely ever seen.

The 3rd King employed the most ruthless, named Menma, as his knight.

And the 4th employed a clever knight named Moriku.

All four knights were part of a program for warrior born children. They were stolen from birth and raised to bring a likeness of hell on earth.

They were given one oath.

Be loyal to thy kingdom.

They were given one goal.

A place in the temple to praise thy father.

They were given one tactic.

Kill.

The knights were lead by the oldest, Menma, for his ruthlessness and devotion. He was an astonishingly devilish man with the charcoal hair of Satan, ocean eyes to drown you, and three scars on each side of his face that was a reminder of which king he served.

He conducted many battles and raids. He took many lives of every age. He was death at that point in time, thinking he could be nothing more..have nothing more.

This village was the receiver of death per orders given just hours before.

Menma was walking down the dirt streets of the burning community, amidst the smoke and civilians running from his army that chased them. His target was the hut just in front of him at the end of the lane. There the other three knights stood, waiting for him with an elderly woman at their feet, clearly beaten but alive.

Her right eye was swollen, limiting her vision in seeing the demon approaching her. When she blinked the best she could, he was right there in front of her with a torch in hand and the other on the handle of his claymore. It startled her, but where could she go? His men had already rendered her legs of any use.

"Do you revolt?" His voice was deep, dark, and empty as if any answer would be wrong either way.

This old woman wasn't afraid, yet. She looked him straight in the eyes, recognizing them to long ago belong to a once innocent infant. But now, there was not a fragment left no matter how hard she hoped. She so responded with, "What does it matter to you, demon?"

Menma stared, his gaze like a brick wall. "Tsunade Senju of Sannin village. You are the head healer here."

Tsunade glanced up at him. "And?"

"You also dwell in necromancy."

Now she was confused. Is that why she was alive still? Is that really why they were there? She began to believe the rumors to be true about the kings dwelling in things they shouldn't. If so, she'd rather die than aid those hypocrites in any kind of way. She so let her silence be her answer.

"Did you search the witch's house, Moriku?"

"We found nothing, Menma. Nothing but potions, herbs, books, and bottles inside. There is a necklace around her neck that she hides with witchcraft though." He was as clever and precise as he sounded with shoulder length black hair seeping from his helmet.

Tsunade panicked, keeping her head down to hide her fright. 'How did he-' Her inner thought was broken as she suddenly let out a deathly scream and pushed away from one of the knights that had gotten down on all fours, sniffing her. She couldn't crawl fast due to her injuries. Plus, the point of a sword found her throat when she turned around to army crawl again.

"Witch." Menma used the blade to lift her chin and make her sit up. When she was upright, he tossed his torch into her home and watched her eyes widen. "Moriku says you have a necklace hidden on you, and Umi can smell the devils work."

The one called Toriumi was still on all fours like a dog. He focused with startling, shining charcoal slitted eyes through his armored helmet, head tilted to the side. And then, he let out a low growl. The scent of witchcraft, magic, ect, made him sick. "She's a bedlam, Commander."

"That she is, Umi. Perhaps I should let you rip her apart."

Tsunade snapped her eyes back to Menma, spite in them and sorrow. "You and the rest of your pets can do whatever you want to me. I'll never give you a damn thing willingly!" She then spat up a good amount of crimson at the lead Knight's armored legs, but she never looked him in the eyes after that.

"If we cut off your head, cut you into pieces, or simply remove your wretched heart, the enchantment will be broken and the necklace you hold so dear will show itself. You could spare yourself a bed in the internal fire by simply handing over the gem."

That maliciously calm voice didn't come from Menma, so it had to be the one that hadn't spoken yet. The shortest one with flaming hair near Moriku. Tsunade rebelled in the chill of night anyway. "Ha, you're all hard of hearing! I said I'd never-"

"We heard," Menma cut her off, literally. He then shoved the tip of his bloodstained sword into the dirt and took a knee to get on eye level and watch her choke on her own red liquid spilling at a pace from her neck and mouth. "By order of the Third King, you may die."

"Y-you, ngh, will l-live agh, to regre-" She coughed up the clot, her tearing caramel eyes turning a pale green like the emerald gem that had began to reveal itself around her neck. She had to do something quick. She then grabbed hold of the knights leg she'd tainted with her blood and now more of it and finished with, "t-to regret the day you, ngh, kill for yourself!"

That same sword that slit her throat, was then used to pierce through her back. It rendered her green eyes to their natural color and yet, lifeless like her body that dropped.

Menma watched her last breath, twisting his sword till he heard bones crack to make sure. When she was gone, he yanked the necklace off of her neck and stood back up, looking it over. "Useless," he uttered a word he'd heard many times as a child and dropped the necklace whose value appeared less to him now despite his knowledge of what it was. "Why'd you plead with this witch, Ishida?"

"Because, my Master, I feared for the poor soul that would have to clean her sinful life off your sword. They'd never be allowed in the temple for years."

"Ever so beautiful and kind, Ishida." Menma chuckled low and glanced at the comrade he intended to piss off, wrenching the claymore out of the woman's back.

"Thank you, my Ma-"

"I don't think it's time for commendations. The men have gathered the last few of the traitors over there, Menma." Moriku interrupted rather abruptly and aggressively with a gesture to the center of the town, proving to have been triggered by their commander.

Menma smirked slightly, turning to look out at the village asunder, flames dancing within those dead ocean orbs of his.

Toriumi was at his side, sniffing the air, picking up the scent of witchcraft. He wasn't sure why it was coming from his commander though and not the necklace that was right at his feet. He picked up the gem to sniff it more, not picking up anything. It confused him to no end. He then tossed it far, choosing not to say anything about it to his commander who was starting wreak of witchcraft, toughing it out.

The ruthless knight then nodded, alerting his three comrades to follow him over to the eyes of his soon fell upon a small group of people gathered in the center. All were held in one bunch by Menma's favorite and most proud soldier, Ijen.

"We've gathered the last of the traitors here, Sir."

"Good work, Lieutenant." Menma then took a stand in front of the bunch. "I serve Kazuhiko Inoue. He is Third King of this Kingdom that you've all taken for granted!"

Uproar, accusations, and then why. That's how it always went.

"We didn't do anything!"

"You're doing this for your own sick pleasure!"

"What did we do?!"

Menma listened to their outcry like music. He then stepped forward closer to their group, making them all go silent. Without any sign of warning, he snatched away a young boy from their mother. His men stepped in to pen the woman down from trying to get her child back. He dragged the boy only a good bits away by his hair and turned their fretting self around to face the people. "I've been sent here to deal with traitors to the kingdom and a witch! To crush a rebellion and purge the unrighteous! Meaning every single one of you!"

"NOOOO!" The mother cried out above the people, thrashing almost as much as her baby. "PLEASE! DON'T HURT MY CHILD-"

How many times had he heard the same scream? The same plea? The same pain?

Ever since birth.

Menma twitched a little, yanking the lad squirming in his hand like a doll. When said kid stopped wiggling against him after that near brain damaging shake, he ordered,"Sing!"

The child wasn't the only one stunned by the request. His mother on the other hand leaped at any chance she thought she could have of saving her son. "I'll sing!"

"No. I want the boy to sing. The children made this song about me. I don't doubt he knows it."

"We don't sing any ill will abo-"

"Do you want your son to be the first?" Menma was done with the begging. He withdrew his claymore with his free hand, being the only man alive to be able to do so. Swiftly he held it just beneath the child's throat, forcing him to stay still and making their head tilt a bit at the angle.

Silence fell like the lives he took from the village and the lives he was yet to take.

"Sing." He wasn't going to ask again.

So the little boy now in tears, bit back his fear for his mother's life and began to sing an eerie little tune, focusing on the ladybug on the knight's sword.

"His hair is the shade of death.
And his eyes the brightest abyss.
So be weary of his hands young miss.
Or you'll find yourself snapped in a ditch."

Another jerk by his spiky, short and jet black hair, encouraged him to keep going.

"Oh no, do you think you are safe?
You think being male secures your fate?
Sorry to say but his hands don't debate.
Nor his sword or the age at his blade."

He took a deep breath in many tears and went on.

"He's the cruelest warrior to live.
And all at the third king's will.
He's like a demon always ready to kill.
Best believe and run for the hills.
For no one can best this enigma."

"Finish it!" The knight pushed him closer to the blade when he hesitated.

"And love will always run from Menma!"

Those were the last words from the village.


~~ Once upon a time, again... ~


Those were not the last words of four stolen children in a specific period of modern time.

Each varied in age, appearance, and mind.

The redhead was 14.

The smart one was 13.

The puppy like one was 11.

The proudest one was also 11.

The youngest newest one was only 10.

Each young male stood side by side in the pouring thunder, facing a dark tunnel.

Above the tunnel stood four looming figures.

The tallest of the figures on the right end spoke, his voice heavier than the rain and louder than the thunder, "The road is a treacherous place!"

The second figure to the speakers left responded with a booming question, "Why is it treacherous?!"

"Because one's past can come back to haunt us! All it needs is a path and in its wake," the main speaker figure paused, pulling a gun from his coat and raising it in the air, "lay destruction and wraith!"

The lesson continued down the line to the left to the third. "You boys are not the haunted! You are the hunter! Luck is an excuse for the unprepared! Do any of you feel lucky?!"

"NO!" shouted the neat redhead.

"NO!" shouted the smart one whose black hair was up in a ponytail.

"Heh, NO!" shouted the playful puppy like one who had two cute, girly, hair pins in his hair and triangle marks on his cheeks.

"NEVER!" shouted the proudest one with long black hair free falling.

"I-I..want to go home…" The smallest one shivered and hugged his wet body, dropping to his knees in tears, blond spiky hair drooping. "I WANT TO GO HOME!" he screamed again, that little voice making a wave through the storm nonetheless. He couldn't do this anymore. He never wanted to do this. He never asked for this. He didn't understand how he got here. He didn't know where his parents were. Why did they leave him? What did he do? Why...WHy..WHY?! He called out from the inside over and over.

The third figure watched his student wither and cry like the child it was. This was for his own good. "Drag him!"

POW! Off went the gun, bullet rippling through the rain.

Of course the small child didn't hear such an order, but he heard the gunshot. Within seconds, his arms were pulled from around his body. His chest and stomach were soaked even further as he was dragged through the mud by the other kids into the dark, scary, and unforgiving tunnel. He shut those pretty eyes of his tight and held onto the forearm of whoever was pulling him.

Deep into the dimly lit darkness out of ear shot, the little child heard a kind voice as he was let go. Opening his eyes slowly, he came upon equally kind emerald that were always there whenever he was afraid. "I-Ishida!"

"You should try to walk on your own now, Menma. The wetter you get, the higher the chances you'll get sick."

That wasn't his name, but he knew better than to not answer to it so he said, "Why do we h-have to do this?!"

Moriku knelt down on eye level with the new kid and gave him a thunk on the forehead. "Because you'll die, idiot."

"Don't do that, Moriku!" Ishida glared at the mean pony-tailed kid that stood back up.

"Last time I checked, I can say whatever the hell I want, Ishida." Moriku grumbled lazily, hands in his soaked jacket pockets. "I'm tired of his uselessness."

"Guys! Neji is leaving us!"

"Let him, Umi!"

Toriumi sat there crouched, looking back from them then to Neji's sprinting form, worried."But Ishida...he'll- he'll..he'll be the only one to get to eat again!"

"Umi- DON'T!" But it was to late. No matter what Ishida said next, the puppy boy was gone.

"Fuck this. I'm out of here."

"Moriku…not again."

Moriku stopped with his back to them and said, "You know, to be as smart as you are, Ishida, I'd thought you would of cut your losses with this deadweight days ago," before walking off.

The one called Menma began to cry again, sitting up and hugging onto Ishida. They were the only one that understood. He himself couldn't help but feel bad for constantly holding him back though. "I-I'm- I'm so s-sorry, I-Ishida! I just can't! I want-"

"I know, I know." Ishida nodded, hugging the young child back tight. "You want to go home."

"YES!"

"We can't! Not for a while at least." He ran his fingers through messy blond hair, seeing that calmed the child down most when he first got there. "You have anyone back home that makes you happy when you think about them?"

"...Yes.."

"Good! I want you to think about them over and over again. Remember to say there name in your head because sooner or later you're going to forget."

"No I won't!" He clung onto Ishida tighter, remembering he'd promised himself he'd never let that happen.

"Prove it then, think about them." This was something that calmed Ishida down for the longest while during his first year at the compound. Of course now, he couldn't for the life of him remember who or what he thought about. As would the young child in his arms succumb to eventually.

Forgetting.

When he thought Menma was relaxed enough, he got him up and they walked hand in hand through the tunnel. They did their best to maneuver together around bob wire, pitfalls, and concussion bombs. Injuries were inevitable, blood ran thick, and headaches led to temporarily blurred vision, but they made it out together.

"Ishida, Ishida, Ishida!" The main speaker before their little race, approached his kind-hearted student that had fallen to the ground with the dead last just outside the tunnel. The closer he got, the quicker his pretty little redhead made sure they were standing by the time he got there. After the man took a knee in front of the children, he caressed the gingers dirty face. "Still so warm."

Ishida winced and flinched away, never looking at the horrible man that could send him into a panic attack at any moment. "Can I take Menma to the quarters now? We...We need to get cleaned."

"You both failed."

"Don't you think starving us is enough?" He kept his eyes down, wincing again when the man got near him. The action made him hold his breath, only to feel his mentors own heated one on his neck and ear, making him sick, scared, and nearly triggering a episode again. He fought it back whenever he was around his friends to save them from worry.

"You may get cleaned, but tell me, are you still mad I got Umi? You know he can always replace you...in certain services that is."

Menma hated whenever this guy would talk to Ishida. He always made the redhead cry, hide, go mute, or disappear for hours at a time for reasons which he was too young to understand. Feeling bold, he thought he could stand up for him for once. "L-Leave him alone!"

"What?!" The man snapped.

"He said nothing! ….Obito, please." Ishida then brought his arm from around the blond child's waist and moved the respected hand over said kid's eyes. He didn't need to see this.

Menma was now back in the dark again, but he could hear Ishida suddenly whimper and then, nothing. They were at least back walking again after a minute or so had passed, but he still couldn't see anything. "I-Ishida?"

"Yes…."

"Are you okay?"

"...How's a nice warm bath sound, Menma?"

"That sounds almost better than food!" Menma could hear Ishida's light laugh and that made him feel accomplished and relaxed. Though he was still held in the dark, he was kept close and so felt safe.

The warm bath then proved to be the most inviting thing in the world. Even if it was only for 60 seconds. They made the most of it got cleaned up and dried off. While walking back to the small resting area in their standard beige pajamas, a little someone had a thought.

"Hey, Ishida. Why are they so mean?"

Ishida shrugged, holding the child's hand. "They'll tell you their little backstory when it's time."

"How long will that be?" Menma frowned, fearing the answer to show how long he'd have to stay there.

'Till your last memory fades...maybe even this one.' Of course he didn't tell the new kid this thought. "A long while, Menma."

"Oh…"

"It won't be all be bad. You'll have us." He gave the blond child's hand a squeeze, getting a smile from him.

"You mean I have you! Moriku and the others hate me!"

"No they don't!"

"Uhuh! Toriumi tried to ea-"

"Ignore that! That's not him." Ishida interrupted pulling him along quickly, their rest area right ahead. "He's...Our mentor is a.."

"A monster." Menma sniffled, finishing for him.

"Correct."

"I can hear you guys from in here!" Moriku grumbled out as they finally came inside and shut door. He sat there on his cot in indian-style with his hair down, glaring at them. "You want five days in the box on top of going hungry tonight?"

"No, Moriku." Ishida smiled, helping Menma over to his own cot across from the grumpy smart kid. To their surprise, on the new kids bed was a piece of paper with a small chunk of bread and cheese on it. "Awww, Mori-"

"I did it for you, not for him." Moriku then shifted back in his bed, pushing the covers up so he could get under. "If he's weak tomorrow when we move, you're just going to suffer with him."

"That's still kind of you."

"Thank you!" Menma shouted in a whisper, climbing on top the bed and going to town on the meal that wasn't no where near going to fill him.

"Slow down, Menma," Ishida warned on his way to his own cot by the smart kid, "if you leave crumbs, it'll attract rats." At his bed, he found a piece of paper with his favorite, a slice of red apple. "Moriku?!"

"Keep your voice down for fucks sake, Ishida!... It's nothing!" Moriku slipped under the covers and turned his back to him. Softly he asked, "That is your favorite, isn't it?"

Ishida beamed, jumping up on his bed and grabbing the slice. "Of course!" he responded excitedly, taking a small bite. "Mmm!"

"You two are weird…"

"And you're not so bad as I thought you were!" Menma mumbled out through chews.

"Hmph, what are you talking about? The next time you win, your meal is mine."

"Fair, fair. Hey, you guys want to know something weird I just remembered?" The new kid sat there on his bed with this thoughtful look on his face, mouth half full with the last bits of food.

"Sure, Menma."

"I don't care."

"Well, I'm going to tell you anyway, Moriku." Shouldn't of gave him food. "My best friend is allergic to apples!"

"How about that?" Ishida chuckled, still savoring his little gift.

"Your best friend isn't here. It's only been your second week and I'm sick of hearing about the pale bastard and your rich parents already! So shut it or I'll tell your mentor your babbling about them again!" Moriku then brought a pillow over his head.

"Sorry!" He realized then why Ishida always told him to keep it in his head. Frowning again, he lifted the paper and funneled the crumbs into his mouth. He crumbled it up afterwards and tossed it into the bin nearby. He then looked to the empty cot next to him and then to Ishida. "Is Toriumi not sleeping here tonight again?"

"No."

"And Neji?"

"Him too. They both won 1st and 2nd, remember?" Ishida finished, tossing away the the now balled up paper. "You need to brush up on the rules around here. We'll go over them tomorrow as we pack, okay?"

"Okay." Menma sighed, choosing to stay up for bit. "Goodnight you guys."

"Goodnight, Menma," Ishida said back, kindly.

Moriku muffled out, "Try not to makes jokes or sing some stupid song again, deadweight. You know I can't fall asleep till midnight."

"I won't. I'll behave from now on, for you guys," Menma promised, looking out the barbed window at the storm going on outside.

Of the two promises he made there, he was only able keep one.