- NOTICE: My English isn't good, and I'm still learning. Thank you for understanding! -

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The real question is not whether life exists after death. The real question is whether you are alive before death.

- Osho Rajneesh

Prologue

"It's about to rain" I whisper, looking up at the clouds gathering in the sky, and although I know that staying out in such terrible weather will result in a nasty cold, I cannot afford to postpone my mission any longer than I already have.

My glance wanders onto the small shrine just a few meters ahead of me, and I can't help but feel uneasy, as I try to contemplate if the weary building will fall on me if I set a foot in it, or if I will be just fine. I honestly consider just turning around and never look back, but I am well aware that it might be my last chance to finish the mission.

According to the old man I received the mission from, I am most definitely not the only one after the scroll. The scroll, that I barely know anything about, but it is none of my business at all, really. My job ends with stealing it and bringing it to that rich folk who will pay me well. Nothing else really matters in this business, because we are not allowed to ask questions. Questions will not get food on my plate, nor new clothes. So, no questions.

I can feel my heartbeat rise by a thousand times, the adrenaline racing through my system, just the way it always does ever since I started working as a criminal. Because one can never know what awaits them in certain missions. Although I have been living like this for years, my hands still tremble slightly, and I can hardly breathe. Every damn time.

However, when I feel the ice cold raindrops, falling onto my skin, I know that it is my call. My call, that I better move and get this mission over with, if I wish to avoid a pneumonia, or an illness of that sort. It wouldn't be great, considering that I don't have any money for medicine nor can I see a doctor. My picture is all over the states since last week, and I'm practically being hunted every second. It's a miracle that today has been calmer than other days. It's a miracle really.

I quickly make my way through the untended garden, with the dried out plants and flowers crackling under my feet by every step. The crippling anxiety slowly taking over my brain wasn't enough to make me run away, a few plants making scary noises definitely won't be it either.

The steps creak under my weight, deafeningly, almost as if they were screaming from the pressure placed onto them; and I don't even consider myself a heavy person. I jump onto the terrace, that's about a meter wide and probably had the same length. It makes the same noise the steps had been making, and I'm honestly surprised that nobody came for me yet. I assume the sound of the slowly intensifying storm has been loud enough to cancel out the sounds of me breaking into a sacred place.

I carefully push the heavy wooden door. To my surprise, the door instead of opening, simply falls out of its frame and loudly crashes into trivial pieces. The hiss coming out of me mostly resembles a scared cat, or a remarkably pathetic snake. After I manage to fight back my urge to run for my life, I somewhat confidently step into the ridiculously tiny shrine. I honestly am a pathetic snake if I can't even make it into the building without wanting to run away.

I can barely see anything in the semi-darkness, and I can't stand the unbearable thought of something or somebody watching me from one of the corners, that I cannot possibly see. I hastily open the bag connected to my belt, to grab my old flashlight. I am honestly surprised that it still works after the things that I have put it through. But it bravely lived for a long four years now. Bless this flashlight.

Realising, that it is hardly the time for getting emotional over a flashlight, I click the broken button. In the sparse light, I notice, that as I hurriedly rummaged through my bag, I managed to drag a few other items out of there. Pens, a broken knife and a rusty necklace scattered on the ground in front of me, or at least these are all that I can see. I recognise all of them, but none of them are too valuable to me. Or at least not enough to waste time over them, I can get attacked any moment now.

In the small room by the way, there are nothing else apart from a small stand.

"Bingo." On the stand, only two meters away from me, there is the item that I was sent for, or at least I believe it to be.

I precariously stumble closer to the stand, not being sure if there is a trap set on this precious scroll, as it's just suspiciously left in a broken down shrine in the middle of nowhere. It would make sense to set traps on it, as the man, who gave me the mission described is something insanely valuable, and made me promise, that I will treat it with care. It is not only valuable but delicate, or so I was told.

I let out a sigh of relief. Not a single thing happens when I cautiously slide my finger on the soft paper, which is quietly rustling under my touch. Gaining more confidence over the situation, I grab the scroll maybe slightly more firmly than necessary, but I definitely cannot afford to let go of it. Not only was the mission easy, but the payment will last for at least three months. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I hear an inapprehensible scream followed by an explosion, louder than my ears could bear. The power of the blast pushes me off my feet, and sadly, the wonky shrine can't hold on anymore either.

"Oh man" I cry quietly, as I push an unholy heavy girder off myself, which not only ripped my clothes, but the very skin on my right side, and I'm certain that it broke a few ribs. Presumably I died. Hopefully I died.

All I can think of is how great would it be if I died.

I'm unable to fight my tears back, as the burning pain is taking over my body, my brain, my thoughts. I force myself to sit up, hoping that that would enable me to breathe properly, but the only thing I get out of my movement is an alarming amount of blood filling up my throat. I have to bend over to cough, and thankfully this somewhat clears my gullet. As the air fills my lungs, I slowly gain control over my body again. I struggle to lift my head, although I force myself to do so, only to see how far the explosion has threw me.

The place, where the shrine was standing just a few moments ago, is now an unrecognisable wreck of wooden planks and broken girders. Somehow the world seems to be frozen, or maybe I froze, unable to move a muscle anymore. I have never seen anything like this before.

Right in front of me, stood a stranger, that I believed to be an angel. Maybe I really have died. A sigh of relief escapes through my lips, and my lips curl in a blunt smile, as I look at the angel's face. Finally. In his ice blue eyes, I can't see anything but a scornful glare. His long, golden blond hair and black cloak are matted and soaked from the rain, but somehow he still looks beautiful.

Peculiar. I thought death would be much less painful.

"Oh look what you got there, un." His smirk is nothing like an angel's should be. Disdainful and insolent, something that makes me want to run away and hide.

"You're not..." I groan, but I can hardly stutter my words. He's not an angel. Not an angel.

NOT. AN. ANGEL.

"If you give me that scroll, you can live, un."

My eyes widen in fright, as I shake my head, desperately wanting to scream for help.. I try to move, but I am simply unable to. It felt as if my limbs were numb.

Suddenly, I don't want to die anymore.

...

Not sure, if I screamed out loud, or if I only wanted to.

"Oh my God..."

I flinch, my whole body shaking, as I hold onto my pillow like it was the only stable point at the moment. I hold onto it, like it is the last piece of grim reality I can possibly cling onto, something that can fade away in a split second to leave me with nothing, but this unbearable emptiness in my chest, and the darkness that surrounds me, and presses all of the air out of my lungs. My tears almost feel like they are burning my skin as they slowly run down on my face, panic and dread slowly takes over me, every breath that I take burns me from the inside out.

The only thing I can do in my agitated pain, is that I try to calm myself, because nothing else seems to help really.

"I don't want to die" I whisper in the stifling silence that doesn't bring me the wished peace that I hoped for. I repeat these few words once again, but the sound of my voice is almost unfamiliar to me. Shaky and desperate, that's how I think I sound, and I know it sounds a few octaves higher than it should.

Those exhausting few minutes feel like an eternity that I take to calm my breathing, and my heart rate slows back to somewhat normal. I turn on my back, and take deep breaths as I look at the craggy ceiling of my small room. The only flaring light source in this petite place, is an old, dusty lamp hanging from the ceiling. As I blink, tears run down on my face yet again. I feel pathetic. I never wanted this to happen.

And although I'm certain that I can only thank my luck for my life, I would need something much more solid than luck. But it seems as I keep falling in the darkness, deeper and deeper; so deep that I'm rather floating, and I can't find anything to cling to, but somehow I didn't crash into the ground just yet. I'm just hurtling, and I lost every light that I have ever had, and everything that was ever dear to me.

I slowly manage to sit up on my surprisingly comfortable bed. One huge disadvantage of the base being built in a cave system underground is that at night, the temperature is inhumanely freezing. Although as far as I can recall, whenever I dared to complain about the cold air, somebody told me off right away, calling me over sensitive and such. Or they threatened to gut me, sacrifice me, make me into a puppet, that did not make me feel any better about my situation at all. I do not even need to admit to it, I am undeniably afraid of all of them. I am more scared than I have ever been in my life. It appears that my small room has been hastily put together with a few stronger doton type jutsus.

The weary aquamarine rug, that was probably dug up from one of the storage chambers, is crumpled under the heavy dark wooden desk. There is no chair as there really is no need for one; my bed and my desk are so close to each other that I can just simply use the mattress as a chair. There are a few books and scraps of paper scattered on the old desk, and that ominous scroll, that makes me nauseous whenever it gets into my sight. My bed fills up half of my 'bedroom', and it just happens that there was enough space for a bookshelf next to my desk as well. The self mainly contains my unwearable clothes and some of my personal belongings. Just at the end of my bed a small stone ladder leads to a fairly big hole in the wall covered by an aubergine curtain, fulfilling the job of a door.

It makes me feel nauseous whenever I look around, I think about my situation and that what kind of people I am forced to live with from now on, until God knows when. Although I only know some of them, the ones that I have met so far were unfriendly enough, to make me not want to meet the others either. If I would say that they do not like me, that would a mild expression. They hate me with all of their hearts and soul, and it makes me feel even more uncomfortable about this whole thing.

The whole thing which is, in fact...

That I joined the Akatsuki.