Chapter One
Dear Diary,
Cold and thin and ragged, practically nothing but bones. That is how you would describe today's generation of shinobi; pitiful dirty creatures that roam the streets of old Konoha, like stray dogs, hunting for scraps of food and haunted by happy and recently bad memories of their past which was no more. Ah, but not all of us- albeit, some of us are clean, on account that some of us work in brothels, and are required to be kept clean, though not pampered, clean and in fresh clothing with our hair combed- even though we too must rely on scraps, for all are skin and bone at the very least. Most of us, including the kunoichi of my own shinobi class from the days at the academy, are suffering from a disease recently brought here from South Korea. Slowly but surely, we are dying, and but for the small daily dosage of antidote given to us by the staff, we would be decaying already.
Though they're not willing, the wealthy, to share their cure, they do give us the antidotes so that we will last months, perhaps a few years more, and we alone are thankful for that. And because I am kept clean, and albeit a little more healthier here in the brothel, sleeping with those men is a small price to pay, and I think everyone else agrees. There are even brothels of men, so that thankfully, my male friends from my shinobi days are able to survive as well as I do, however painful it remains.
They've gone, you know- along with Naruto and Sasuke, to set up a second village, about five years ago- Tsunade, Jiraiya, Kakashi, Gai, Lee, Neji, Kiba, most of the Hyuuga, half the village council, Kurenai, Iruka, Genma…they all went to settle with half the population of Sand, all the way on the other side of the continent, and due to harsh weather, crossing all the way through seems to be a problem for both halves of Konoha. After all, starvation and poverty and war, and dulled our Shinobi abilities.
But anyway, it was after they all left- vulnerable as we were, it was easy for Lightning Country to invade us; they bombed our buildings and killed most of the remaining ANBU and civilians. They ravaged, raped and burned us to the ground, and now, there are few rebuilt buildings, mostly brothels and shelters and a few hotels in the area we cleaned up. After they'd bled us dry, Lightning did, naturally we had to start from scratch. We, the remaining villagers, traveled to Sand and Waterfall, who were our last hope for allies, and begged on our knees, trading anything we had for food, crops, etc. And we managed to rebuild and clean up enough, so that we still attracted some wealthy tourists, but mostly we had to live off the land, or others, meaning the crime rate rose high, and chaos ruled. Us shinobi used our remaining skills and strength to replant trees and dig up a new creek, and some of our own cabins (not me, of course, I'm referring to the last of the ANBU and Jounin). And now, I work in the Brothels, wearing my only delicate red kimono; the last heirloom of my family with our symbol that my pride dare not let me trade it in. I see Tenten from time to time, but besides Moegi, my other kunoichi friends had gone to the new village, and I couldn't make friends with anyone else- around here, people die every day, and you really don't want to get attached to someone who could potentially die tomorrow. And, after Chouji was killed, I think I had cried myself out to where I couldn't grieve anymore.
Regardless, I lie on my futon, night after night, longing for the touch of…of…them. Naruto and Sasuke. Daily, I wonder where they are, if they are still together- what are they doing, where are they going? And even so, I can only wonder, because as the days pass, still no one comes home. And each day, another friend dies, I earn a few yen, my hair grows longer, my skin gets colder and paler, and I lose another pound, and get raped by another old man. Same old thing, every single day…if it wasn't for that small, lingering flame of hope that they would come, I'd probably kill myself.
Anyway, I saw this diary in the junk store today, and since I've nothing else of interest to buy, I bought it. I guess I could keep a record of what happens here; not that anyone would want to read such gruesome, gloomy entries, but there's nothing else to do, and I guess that if anyone comes back after I die, then this can be my last testament, or whatever.
Yours,
Haruno Sakura