Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the franchises that will be mentioned in this fanfiction. All rights go to their respective owners.
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It is a simple fact that everything in this world, this universe, is so abstractly complex yet amazingly simple at the same time. From books to animals to life itself, all could change, giving different views, various points and understanding.
All that is needed is a change of perspective.
For example, tea can go from a simple drink made from leaves and boiled water to amazingly intricate and complicated brew that takes hours upon hours to create, taking precise timing and herbs to make the calming refreshment just right.
Life, likewise, is simply a game of chess. We play different opponents, gain pieces, win, lose, and, most importantly, learn. Sometimes we are pieces in other games, however willing. In the end, everyone, no matter whom, is just a small pawn in the grand scheme of the world, of the universe.
Every game builds us up, makes us stronger. We falter, and we fall. We move on, and we overcome. It is so simple, yet so complicated at the same time. It reminds us that all games are worth something; taking out a single battle, winning or losing one match, could affect everything.
There is always one opponent that we face constantly, no matter what we do, who we face, and how we play. All matches prepare us for this game, this battle, against the being that has no equal, who can never be beat. You can stall, but it will always win in the end.
That opponent is Death, an ethereal being, a dark knight flying around the board, eliminating, protecting, and defying. It cannot be controlled, tamed, or tampered with. It is simply not done. All eventually falls to that opponent, no matter the tricks or traps pulled.
Many play on at their own pace, not in any hurry to finish or wanting to do anything to lengthen the game. Some forfeit the match, finding it hard to continue through the torturous game. Others desperately try to delay the inevitable, pulling out every trick in the book in a hopeless attempt to win.
When you lose (because it is not if, will never be if), Death will take your hand, lead you from the board, and into a new life. All other games you play stop, freezing forever at your departure. There are no resets, no rematches, no new challenges. You have lost, and you pay the price.
There is only one exception. Sometimes, and those who have experienced it will never know why, Death will simply reach over, place his hand over yours, and ask to play again. You do not have a choice in the matter. So you restart the games, with new experiences, new strategies, and a new mind.
As the pieces reset, however, everything changes.
(+)-=-(+)-=-(+)
My death, I knew, would come early. All things that rise must come down eventually, and the higher they go, the harder the fall. Upon the bones and ashes of my victims rose a criminal empire unlike any other. Whether it be thieves, drug dealers, assassins, or even the common thug, we united under our emblem; two dragons, circling around the moon, another symbol for eternal life.
Immortality was a foolish thought and all who lived like we did knew that. Death waited for you around every corner, never giving you a moment to rest without another challenge; the cost of failure being your life. I overcame, and rose to the top of the food chain. All in the underground feared Eternal and it's members, working hard to join, ensuring their survival.
It was all too good to last.
When the time finally came, it was a bit disappointing how it turned out. There were no infiltration tricks, no ambushes, no traps. The police busted straight through the main door and proceeded to take out each and every one of us one by one.
Criminals and thugs knew the true scum that was the Earth and humanity, so we all bonded by that mutual hatred and disgust. Watching the blood of my associates (because even though they barely knew each other, all knew everyone else's name in the very least) was, in short, terrifying, but at the same time thrilling. Crimson liquid dripping and flowing from wounds, screams as others were shot down, the constant flow of adrenaline pumping through my veins, the pushing to just stay alive… fighting had never been more enjoyable.
I knew my end had come as soon as the last thug fell, and every bit of attention trained on me. Grinning a maniacal, broken, tooth-filled smile, I raced out of the room, listening in amusement as shouts and rapid footfalls echoed through the halls as I sprinted through the labyrinth, jumping up countless flights of stairs and running past empty rooms. I could hardly feel the bullet wounds in my body, blood steadly seeping around the crimson-stained ammunition.
Making one last final push of strength, I busted open a large, ornate door. Ignoring the scattered papers and bloody corpse of my former boss, I quickly climbed over the oak desk, weakly fumbled for a moment, and after a couple seconds, threw open a giant window in the back of the room. Climbing onto the windowsill, I grinned victoriously as cops began filling the room, watching me with cautious and surprised eyes. Wind rippled through my raggedly cut sandy hair, the drying blood matted into the locks, only making the scene darker.
Smirking, I raised my hand in a mock-salute, lazily observing how their bodies tensed at the gesture, one policeman shaking in fury at the obvious disrespect. All had their guns up and ready, fingers resting on the trigger, twitching in anticipation. Placing my hand on my pistol for reassurance, I felt my self-assured smirk grow until it was a full-out insane grin, jagged and broken at the edges. Letting out a childish giggle, I tilted backwards over the sill, saying only five parting words;
"See you in hell, bastards."
Gunshots sounded and bullets sailed above me as my small, limp body flew threw the wild air and toward the rapidly nearing concrete, all happening while I pulled two small items out of my pocket. The first was a beautifully crafted ebony chess piece, shaped like a king, with various grooves and details accenting the intricate figure.
The piece was simply a comfort object, left over and given to me by Father (my parent, my mentor, my teacher) before he had passed, if only to help me get over my pathetic grief. What was dead was dead, there was no changing that. 'Even so', I thought, griping the tiny object tightly in my right hand, placing the limb holding the priceless (yet in the end, worthless) piece over my heart, 'I'll be seeing my Father soon enough.'
In my left held the most dangerous of the weapons in my stash, however unassuming it may be. It was a small metal box with an unusual red button in the bottom left corner.
10…
My body continued it's descent as civilians below began noticing the falling form that was myself.
9…
Adults began herding children away; soft shrieks and fearful screams filling the street.
8…
I heard voices begin calling out, shouting why I had given up. I'm certain that no one actually said that, however.
7…
After all, no one worries for a monster.
6…
I had lost this game to Death.
5…
After many years of evasion, of stalling, he had forced me to a checkmate; a forfeit.
4…
My hand clenched around both the ebony king and the metallic box, mentally preparing myself.
3…
I rested my thumb on top of the button.
2…
I closed my eyes.
1…
The desperate and scared screams of the growing crowd hadn't died.
0…
My thumb pressed down.
Flames burned at my flesh for a few moments, pain coming in sharp jabs throughout my body as it hit the ground, bones splintering and tissues tearing. Screams, not no long ago filled with sadness and desperation were now brimming with fear and shock. Explosions boomed from the surround buildings, flames crackled, and debris fell as their supports crashed down.
The sweet harmony of destruction filled my ears as peaceful darkness overcame my vision.
At that moment, Dylan Kinston, spymaster of Eternal, died.
If only it would last.
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This is simply a late-night ramble that's probably going to turn into a large mess at some point. My brain was screaming at me to create this, so I thought 'Why not?' I have absolutely no idea where this is going, but hopefully it works out. I hope this isn't to terrible and if you see any mistakes, please tell me so I can fix them (constructive criticism is needed!)
I am just giving you a heads up now though. If you are looking for a happy-go-lucky, morally correct SI OC then you have come to the wrong place. My oc (name will be given next chapter) has one word to describe her; insane. I hope to try and make her as little of a Mary-Sue as I can. The Naru-verse will be introduced next chapter, don't worry!
Thanks for your time and for reading the beginning of this story!
Ja-Ne~