Okay, so finally I live. Listen guys, this is my best work in my opinion. It's just awesomeness. I know, it's based around some of my OCs but it's got Naruto characters mostly. It's for me and my friends. But I hope you like it.


~The Fire, the Ice, and the Wind~

-1-

-

-

-

Kikyo Ot… suki.

Sa… kura Haruno.

Shiro Shini… gami.

Hid…eo Shinigami.

Itachi U… chiha.

Kazu… ki Inahara.

Only… six. Six… of them. In a dusty… old town. In a… dusty old country. With a… dusty government (that is really none at all).

The land… breathes… And only a few can hear it… anymore. Love… is like… a dying firefly… a flickering flame… and a lovely, yet frozen, flower, soon to wither as time puts its iron fist down.

Unlikely people. Children, big kids, young adults, students, and kids. All titles that they can claim.

A few they'd rather not have, too.

Monster.

Schizophrenic.

Unloved.

Orphan.

Blamed.

Abused.

But they all can find one question that they need, want to be answered:

Why?


-~+{[( Kikyo )]}+~-

I hate the stars. They wink at me, teasing me.

We are free. You are not. We are free. You- are- not!

'Shut up!' I slammed my fist into the wall. Thinking about stars made me angry. Gritting my teeth, I pulled my sky blue hair into a messy ponytail. I stuffed my books into my tattered old messenger bag. I hurried out of the crappy old apartment with its leaking ceiling and cracked paint and out into the cobblestone street. I rubbed my face with my sleeve as I stalked down the road.

People stared at me. I glared back. What's so weird about a teenage girl storming out of her ugly apartment at six thirty in the morning? Nothing. Nothing at all. Happens all the freaking time.

I'm rude. I did not introduce myself to you. I am Kikyo Otsuki.

I have triangular clan markings on my face. They are dark blue. I don't like them because I didn't put them there and I have no need for clan tattoos because nobody else is left.

I'm a orphan, I live alone, whoop- dee- doo.

I like to read a little bit, but I'm not a complete bookworm.

I keep to myself. I don't care about fashion.

I like wearing clean things- which I sometimes can't do.

I don't like meeting new people.

I also don't like boys, but I'll tell you why in a second. Just wait.

I am wearing a battered old tan jacket with big brown buttons. I have black boots that go up to my knees and some dark brown pants that I stuffed into the boots. They look like slops now. My shirt has, mercifully, no holes, and is a plain white tee.

I generally don't like to sound self- centered, but I end up doing so because my sentences start with 'I' most of the time. Someone told me that once, and I felt annoyed and scared so I told them I didn't care. I started my sentence with 'I', too. Just for the satisfaction.

I've done that ever since.

I have pretty eyes, at least. They are a sea of light violet, and I don't wear makeup because my eyes are for me. I don't like people looking at me.

I think boys are stupid. I mean, I'm currently passing the empty lot next to the school. There are a bunch of boys there. Tall, short, jocks, nerds. All of them. Some even have the emblem choker that makes them bad. I never did like boys, and my dislike has grown to hatred after many years of hair-pulling and name-calling.

By the way, I don't know why the emblem choker is bad. The officers tell me so. 'Someday,' they told me, 'all the bad will be gone. You'll be safe then, Kikyo.'

I hate how they make me feel like a child. I'm fifteen, not four.

Girls wear it too. It's like a symbol for something. They always pull on it like it's strangling them. A collar. Just a black leather collar with a design on it in shiny silver metal.

Looks itchy to me.

Passing a particularly nasty interaction between a girl and a boy, I inwardly gagged and made sure not to look. I'd never let a boy touch me like that. It's violating, dirty, and I'd end up washing myself until my skin was red.

I guess I'm weird, because there were couples making out everywhere.

I just can't escape the stupid. People are just Stupid with a capital 'S'.

I strode up to the grimy double doors that led into the school. Slipping my hand in the handle, I slipped in the right door quietly.

_-{[( Hideo )]}-_

'Look, loser one and loser two.'

'Well, if it isn't emo and invisible. Oh, wait, I can't see invisible. He's not there.'

I ignored the ignorant comments. Or, I should have. Instead, I stuck out my tongue at their backs childishly. Jocks were stupid. They may be six foot one, but they only had about 200 brain cells.

Kazuki walked silently next to me as we made our way to the more quiet part of the lot. He kept his eyes glued to the ground.

I don't think that the mere 200 brain cells could ever comprehend what that kid was thinking. In fact, I'm not sure my IQ of 200 could fully grasp it. That's why he keeps his composition notebook with him.

Paper doesn't need brain cells to have his thoughts on it. Thank god.

I hopped up on the ledge of the old cement stairs. The tan structure had parts crumbling off, and one day it was definitely going to collapse when I sat there.

It'd kill me, I'm sure. Kazuki told me that there was a big boulder approximately 5.7859 meters above my head that would have enough sufficient gravitational potential energy to crack my skull like an eggshell. And when the stairs broke, the chain reaction would dislodge the rock so that it could fulfill my death wish.

Yeah. I like the metaphorical "edge". It makes me happy.

My sister worries about me, but I told her that she should just stop because it wasn't worth wasting thought on how I could die; if I don't, I don't- if I do, it's probably my fault. Or human stupidity.

I just can't escape from the stupid. It's everywhere.

By the way, you're wondering. You are wondering with all your brain cells (which, I hope, is more than that jock's) who the heck I am.

Name is Hideo Shinigami.

I have black hair that 'hates the world' as my sister puts it. It is impossibly spiky, and covers the left side of my face. I find it amusing when people try to figure out what that side of my face looks like. In reality, it's exactly the same as the right side.

My eyes are crimson red. They tend to dilate quickly at random times and freak out people. My sister thinks they're pretty, but that's just because her boyfriend has the same coloration.

I always wear a black trench coat. Little kids are afraid of me because I wear black every day. And combat boots. I like to snicker as they run to their mommies. Kazuki always shakes his head at me, and usually we burst out laughing later.

I don't like my sister's boyfriend, artichokes, losing, and stupid people. I don't like Dragga either; I just put up with him. But he's so gay, it scares me. Probably because I'm heterosexual.

I do like my sister, hard math problems I can do and laugh at idiots when they can't, the dark, technology, and people I consider 'friends.'

I also like to torment Dragga, but that's a two-way street so I get retaliation. That part sucks. He's a creep.

By the way, I am definitely not gay. Just to clear that up. Now. So that I don't hurt someone later.

Kazuki's head snapped up from his writing. The bell rang- time to run.

We raced to the side door and snuck through the janitorial entrance.

Ah, screw it.

-=([{ Sakura }])=-

Being nice is tiring. Smiling hurts my face.

I'm sure that a thousand fake smiles like this one have found their way to my face. I glared at the boy through my pained smile. He was looking at me funny, and it made me angry.

In fact, when I realized that he wasn't looking at my face, I punched him and left.

I honestly think that most boys are idiots. At least at this age. And they were getting taller, too. I loved the days in elementary school when the girls towered over the puny boys.

Haha, puny boys. I can beat all of them in arm wrestling. I could beat them up.

I don't because Aunt Tsunade told me not to.

Oh, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Sakura Haruno. Nice to meet you, unless you are a perverted boy. In that case, I'll warn you once: Run.

I have pastel pink hair and green eyes. I like to be respectable, as in getting good grades and looking professional.

I'm currently wearing a white blouse and a pair of black pants. Oh, and my beloved shoes, which happen to be a pair of short heels that have a rounded toe.

Patent leather, mmm.

I keep my opinions to myself. Except when I tell you that I think people are stupid, petty creatures. There seems no end to the stupidness.

Walking past the accursed boys who insist on staring at me, I half- ran over to the far corner of the lot, stepping over the overgrown grass that grew in clumps in the cracks of the concrete. Watch the shoes, foliage. Patent Leather doesn't like you.

Pulling out my book, which happened to be a collection of Shakespeare (horrible to carry around, but worth it), I settled myself on the old bench.

I liked to read here while watching the others. Now, on the first day of school, the new kids (which weren't many of) stood apart from the loudly socializing residents of this town.

I noticed the regulars out in the big blacktop. The chemistry nerds who hung out near the bike rack; the dumb jocks and their cheerleader girlfriends that they'd dump in a week in the middle of the lot; and lastly the two boys not very far from me. They sat near the collapsing building. The one must be really stupid, seeing as he was always sitting underneath that boulder. The other sat in the grass.

Not really feeling like reading, I shut my book and studied them for the first time.

Neither seemed to talk much. The difference was that the one with the notebook was fixated on what he was writing and the other was just sitting back and flicking his eyes around the grounds. He looked like he was thinking.

Since they were so close, I noticed that his eyes were dilating constantly, and fast. According to my medical textbook (which I adored), this could be harmful if he was in harsh sunlight. According to my mind, it was registered as creepy.

Feeling weird for looking at the same person for so long (especially a guy), I shifted my gaze to the other. His eyes were focused, but when he blinked, it became big again but shrunk when he opened his eye.

It was weird. I like that word. Weird.

And- I saw the collar and averted my gaze.

'Don't look at them, Sakura.'

Why?

'Don't talk to them, Sakura.'

Why?

'Someday, they'll be gone, Sakura.'

…

'We'll all be happy when they are gone, Sakura.'

The collar was bad. That's all they ever told me. Certain people around town have it on- it has a metal symbol on it. Those people tend to be quiet, but the adults look down on them. I frankly don't think it's right, for people to be segregated like that. So I'm always careful to be nice to the people with collars, even when other people tell me that they're bad people. Argh, it's so confusing.

The bell saved me from my thoughts. I snatched my book from the bench beside me and hurried to the doors.

Jostled by the crowd, I never noticed that the kid with the notebook had noticed my scrutiny.

~#((( Kazuki )))#~

Dear Nameless,

You're new. I'm glad I could get a new book. My old one was dead. It was falling apart last week and a day or so ago its remaining cover fell off.

I was worried I wouldn't have enough money to buy a new composition book… but I did.

I'm going to decide what to call you later, journal. But I can tell you what they call me.

I'm Kazuki Inahara. Father says that Inahara shouldn't be my surname, but that's my name. I guess I'll change it later.

I have black hair, and one streak in my bangs is white. I'm fifteen. I have green eyes.

The collar hurts me, Nameless. It burns. So do the looks I get.

The metal emblem flashes in the sun, and it hurts my eyes. So I like the dark better.

Right about now, I'm looking out over the school lot. I notice everything.

The group that I should be in over there- the rest of the collar wearers. The people who push me and Hideo around over there, the normal kids.

The pink- haired girl on the bench reading Shakespeare. I think she's curious about us. No wonder. She looks smart enough to keep up with Hideo, even. Maybe. Smart people tend to be pretty intelligent.

The dawn is pretty. It would warm me, but it chooses not to. My kind- the collars- don't get the embrace of the sun. At least, the government says so. And the police officers.

Principal Tsunade called me last night, while Father was out. She told me that that Girl was coming to our school. I am scared; She knows me; the old me. But She won't remember.

But I don't want to tell Her. She'd run away, and I'd be sad again. Best to just never be near Her.

It was considerate of Tsunade to tell me. I like Principal Tsunade. She's different from the other adults. She treats me like… like a human being.

I strain my eyes to look at the figure moving on the other side of the fence. It is a girl. She is walking fast.

I know it's Her. I can tell.

But She's different. I don't know Her now. It's my fault. She won't even recognize me now. She'll look through me, like most people do.

Father tells me that everything bad is my fault.

It makes me afraid when I find myself agreeing.

Just maybe, someday he'll realize that Yukio isn't much better. I hope. But human stupidity exceeds the universe in both size and matter. Or lack thereof.

Hope never got me anywhere, I am thinking, as I watch Her yank open the door to the School.

She's like a broken promise. An old childhood memory of two little kids on a cliff. I'll know Her name, but She'll have forgotten me.

Kikyo. I'll never forget that name.

The bell just rung. I know we'll run through the janitorial entrance again, like always.

It smells like mops in there.

-{=( Shiro )=}-

Love.

I used to wonder what it was like

I know, now

and I'm glad

because Itachi is next to me

and I can't wipe the smile off my face

I look like a silly child with a Twix bar

my name

is Shiro Shinigami

I am

beautiful

because

he

is next to me

but I have pastel blue

hair and aqua

eyes

I like to walk

to the campus

and imagine

all sorts of

trivial things

like

what the clouds think and

where their parents

are

I can

hear

music when

I

walk

and we are

passing the old high school

where we first met and he asked me for a pencil

I suppose

my little brother is somewhere over

in the shady overgrown

corner of

the old lot,

away from

'the stupid'

of the others

"Remember, Itachi?"

"Yes."

I hear the bell ring

and I hope

to all the clouds and their parents

that he and Kazuki will

be alright

I worry because

the collar will drag dear Kazuki down someday

when they

say,

'It was for the best, Ms. Shinigami.'

…_-=[( Itachi )]=-_...

I suppose I lied. When she asked me, all those years ago, if I'd ever fall in love, I said no.

I was wrong. I always seem to be incorrect when I am around her. That time in the spelling bee, and in class that whole marking period when she sat next to me.

Even though I despise being wrong, I will always make an exception with her.

My name is Itachi Uchiha. I have black hair pulled into a ponytail and dark red eyes. I like to wear dark colors. So right now I am wearing a black tee and dark wash jeans.

Shiro, the girl I am foolishly in love with, walks next to me.

She likes the color white. She is wearing a white sundress and her straw hat with the pink ribbon. Radiating happiness, she is smiling.

Her bright smile can make even my own emotionless face light up with her infectious happiness.

Love is a disease. I believe it is slowly killing me.

Shiro is kind. She is like a white lotus blooming among the dirty waters of this town.

I will leave this place someday, with her. But for now she wants to stay, stay and help this ailing country. Spread her white happiness to the black collars that riddle our town with hatred and sadness.

We are walking down the street. Her white rain boots disrupt the scraggly weeds that have invaded the sidewalk.

A girl with sky blue hair rushes past us. Her hair color is eerily similar to Shiro's, but none will ever be the same. The girl is angry.

I see that look on my brother's face, especially since the incident. Shiro frowned at the girl's back, noticing the stormy look as well.

My brother is named Sasuke. He is full of rage. Righteous fury at the world. Despite this, and his dislike of me, I still care for him deeply. He is all that is left besides Shiro.

I notice that we are passing the school.

She speaks in her bell-voice, "Remember, Itachi?"

I reflect upon the days when we were even younger and even more foolish than we are now and inwardly laughed.

"Yes."

There is no need for more conversation. I know that she is pondering her questions. Special questions, like her. She's one big question mark herself.

What do the stars think of?

Where is the sea's memories?

Why do the clouds frown?

When did the snow change its face?

Who loves the desert's soul?

She has told me her answers for only two so far.

Clouds frown because we pollute them with so much thought, color, and blood. They smile because we show them our love, tears, and happiness. Human stupidity- we cannot escape it. The clouds know.

Snow changed its face when we stained and stepped on it. It will change again when we apologize.

As we pass, my keen ears pick up the school bell's raucous buzzing. Shiro's head jerked up.

The high school students flooded into the school's dirty doors, pushing and shoving each other.

I didn't see Hideo, who has decided to hate me.

Foolish little almost- brother. Shiro read my thoughts and smiled at me.

I am blessed.

A black collar lands upside- down in the dirt. The insignia is not visible. Blood splashes over it as its owner lands next to her shackles.

Serves you right!

A boy cowers in the corner. His brother is not home. Wide eyes scream.

Why? Why, when she only ever helped you?

Shut it, freak.

'Don't be afraid, sweetie. Run. Run away and embrace the light the gods gave you.'

Mother!

She's dead, brat. And now it's your turn… and whoever is on that damn cliff.

But-

I don't care. Stay away from normal people, you'll contaminate them with… with your disease. And then I'll kill you.

…I…

You and all your kind will be dead someday with a bullet in your brain. Where it belongs!

… when you can only whimper and cry, is when you take the name of a collar.

That is when you will know true terror.

A child's blood stains the snow. And the snow will cry tears of pink and chew the red away.

The rain will pour.

The sea will scream as it hits the tall cliffs.

The clouds will turn black with the sooty remains of pain and anger and fear and the smoke left from hope that has been snuffed out.

The desert will whisper to its victims, words of pain.

Souls will howl with their consent to the will of nature.

And the stars will twinkle. Twinkle, twinkle. I want to be loved.

OUT64.