Author's Note:
First fanfic I've posted in 2 years. I hope there's some improvement in my writing, even though I haven't been practicing lately. I'd really appreciate some criticism on this, I always wanna write but my lazy/embarrassed side always gets the better of me. I know if I have a goal to work towards I'll be more motivated to put my thoughts to text.
Song: "I've Seen Footage" by Death Grips
"What's that? Can't tell
Handheld dream shot in hell
Deep space ghetto streets
Show me something I aint seen before."
The first time I ever saw a man die, I was 11. I started going to the academy at that point, wearing the jumpsuit Ji-san gave me. He says the orange represents the will of fire, but looking back, I wonder if he also used it to cover the bruises on my neck and arms.
"Mystery 'hind that death door
Juke step electrocute the floor
What's the science of flying that high?
Got a no-no goin' one time."
Ji-san let me use the training grounds in secret, because he knew I didn't have friends to practice my techniques with. It actually helped. I received an allowance from the village government but not one for training expenses like kunai, scrolls, standard issue gear. Maybe it was how they showed their distaste in my "dream". Anyways, the training ground had all sorts of leftover equipment from sparring and survival exercises scattered around. I didn't know I was scavenging from the Forest of Death at the time.
"There he is! You think you can trespass here you little shit?!"
A group of my tormentors approached the gate. I had seen them all before at some points. One had scared me off from his fruit stand, another refused to let me into his restaurant.
"Hokage-sama said I can train he-"
*SLAP*
"You think you can desecrate these grounds where dedicated men and women served? They joined to protect against scum like you." The tallest villager laughed, pulling a sai off of his back. A metal baton. They wanted this to be my last visit to the forest.
"Creeps up behind me
Over my shoulder
Turn around, try to see, but it's nowhere
Noided, noided, static on my blindside"
As my vision steadied and I stood up from the hit, my conscious was steeling me to this situation, one I had been through before. Like coaching a boxer before the 2nd round. 'Stay focused, you've been in this spot before' 'Dog-san will save me again' 'watch out for your legs'.
I slowly backed up. "I don't want any trouble. But I'm training here." Bad move. I bumped into a chest behind me. It was a man brandishing a knife. At least that's what my conscious recognized. My subconscious was already on a different wavelength.
"HYUGHCK-lttthhhh" He was spewing blood on my face now. There was a kunai embedded in his neck, one I had just scavenged. I looked lower. My hand was gripping the handle, twisting it back and forth. Was I the one doing this? I felt myself pull out the kunai, my ego finally gaining control back from my survival instincts.
I ran and ran and ran that night, and stayed awake all throughout. The images couldn't leave my mind, and the bath I took in a stream didn't help. The blood could not wash off my fingers, and the adrenaline didn't leave.
It felt like waking up from a nightmare, where the frantic energy from your terror still hasn't left you, and you're more alive than you've ever been in your whole life. What happened didn't feel real. Like I had been watching footage cut from a horror film. Even now, it still feels like a static blur recorded by someone else.
"I've seen footage, I stay noided, I've seen footage, I stay-
I've seen footage, I stay noided, I've seen footage, I stay-"
The next day, I sneak back into my apartment. Everything feels different. I can't even glance in a mirror, and I feel like a stranger in my own home. I don a t-shirt with a hidden leaf symbol on it, and pack a bag with paper, pencils, textbooks, and kunai. I'm running low again. A vile part of me wants to laugh. I would have one if I didn't just murder someone.
On my nightstand, there's a picture of myself and Ayame, cheesing for Teuchi's camera. I vomit. That man had family too. He wanted me dead. I'm a murderer. It was self defense. All these thoughts are too much for me. Yesterday's supper keeps coming out of my mouth. My brain feels like it is on the verge of collapse, so I fall back on my life-long strategy. I run to safety.
I sprint through the alleyways of my neighborhood, constantly looking over my shoulder for another attacker. It is the first time I am early to class all year. Walking into the lecture hall, I see him. Always silent. Never smiling.
And yet in many ways, we are the same. For the first time, I say nothing. Nothing comes to my mind. I sit next to him. And we both try not to re-watch the same footage.
"I've seen footage, I stay noided, I've seen footage, I stay-
I've seen footage, I stay noided, I've seen footage, I stay-"