Chapter 1
A/N: Okay... ANOTHER on-going fic, but it'll be short. This mainly focuses on an OC I've rolled around in my head for a LONG time. It takes place when the third part of the Chuunin exam is interrupted by Orochimaru and all these other people. I hope you'll recall the scene where the academy students are still in their class working alone.
There's a mention of god, but in a general manner. Please don't be offended!
Remember, Last Name and then First Name. You'll see what I'm talking about. (I just didn't want people to be confused.)
Enjoy!
Caressing light shone through the clear windows. Pencils scratched against papers, papers against desks. No one talked, but everyone knew what everyone was thinking about.
Something is wrong.
Academy students glanced around the quiet room, the usual commotion suddenly silenced. Serene as it seemed, it was dangerous, danger blaring with hushed warning. Iruka-sensei was still away, leaving the students in their classroom. The pencil still scratched, etched warnings into the desks and scrambled nonsense.
A girl sat with her burgundy locks of hair and pools of translucent green. She looked down at the picture she drew. A crooked gray kunai lay on the frame of paper.
She glanced at it with curiosity. Emerald eyes blinked, completely hypnotized by the idea of handling such a weapon in the future. The metal meeting skin, judging the life's end with the sharpness.
"Hey, Akuma, can I borrow your color pencil?"
A small voice cracked against thick silence hanging heavily.
She came out of her thoughts.
Carefully, the girl closed the box, cardboard scraping each other inaudibly. She handed it to him with the utmost care in the world. It was the box of colored pencils that created this nonexistent kunai, after all.
Reciting a small "thanks," he turned back to his work of art.
Nothing was left to do. She wondered the strange disappearances of the teachers and the deadly silent tone the village had given. Something is wrong.
She wanted to bring the kunai to life. It was crooked, and the proportions were completely incorrect, but she was gravitated toward its essence. Being about eight years old, this was rather twisted to say the least. She quickly wrote something on the back of the kunai.
Learning the shinobi way is the only way for me.
A wave of inspiration swept her off her feet, and she wrote more.
Hello, there. My name is Uchitoru Akuma. My name alone beholds strong purposes of my future.
Akuma, demon, and evil spirit.
Uchitoru, to arrest, and kill.
Gruesome name it is, for one of so young. I haven't a clue why I was named as mentioned, but it has my fate scribbled all over it. My instincts urge me to take and control the shinobi path, slice off directly at the vital points and mutely disappear. By embracing death, for I can see it every day of my life, I've become fearless. No one touches me. They can tell.
Children can tell everything.
I am a doll filled with nothing but the flammable gasoline that can light up any time. Just one action and the fire will burn forever. Nothing can put it out. It must be a message from god.
Her color pencils were returned, and she tucked it away under her desk.
Today seems to be momentous; I believe Iruka-sensei will drop in any time and declare a sudden evacuation drill.
Because a war is going on. I hear it. The clanking of metal, I felt the grotesque chakra that pressed against the bodies of those fighting until they crush into atoms. I wait for that man with the scar across his nose. I wait for him say, "This is an evacuation drill. Exit in single file."
He's close. I think I can hear him. Like the chakra stuck in the air, his footsteps are heavy with worry and desperation. I see his conscience; it's shivering with fear and stress. What can he do? His village was in danger.
My journey will begin now, a treacherous one at that, but it'll be all worth it.
I can tell.
All students shuffled out of their seats and were led outside. She folded the paper and placed it with her colored pencils. She was the first in line and she looked up at the man. She saw him fumbling with his fingers; he wanted to bite his nails. She frankly didn't want to stress the man with her honesty, but she couldn't help the scraping match against her skull wanting to light up the inside.
"Iruka-sensei?"
He glanced down at her. He tried to look calm and normal. "Yes?"
"Are we going to die?"
He froze at the question. The man couldn't think. Was it the simple questions children asked, or was it of the complex form?
Iruka hoped it was the former.
"No, you're not going to die."
Her eyes gleamed with knowing, penetrating his lies. "Then tell me," she paused, lowering her voice for other ears, "Why is our village being destroyed?"
There was nothing he can say to that. He stared at her with utter disbelief.
"I'm sorry, sensei. I promise I won't tell anyone else."
"It's okay, Uchitoru-chan."
They walked around the village so that in case the village was on fire they'd be able to avoid it. The class came to a wall and Iruka-sensei used some hand signs and opened a part that couldn't be seen before. Everyone was supposed to learn this in case of emergency.
The worried face on the sensei finally lightened for the class was supposedly safe for a moment. Iruka led them to another way, but with a swift movement of her feet, it was like she was never there.
I don't know what I was thinking…
But I ran.
A/N: Umm... Yeah. This'll probably take about three or four chapters. If you can, TELL ME IDEAS!!
Review, please.