Hey people, those of you who are still desperate enough, or loyal enough (sometimes I think the difference isn't all that great), to keep checking up on a has-been numbskull like me. Life's been getting pretty down on me lately, tests, work, and heavy doses of zero-inspiration. Kind of like the black hole of the muse world. Instead of giving inspiration, it takes it the fuck away.
This fic was written inside of a day a few weeks ago, it's only a prologue right now, but I have some vague ideas as to the rest of it. Just don't expect any rapidity in updates. Although, if you've read my other fics (which I HAVEN'T BAILED ON, by the way), you'd know it can take me a good long while to update. This is especially true these days.
Mirror Shards was heavily inspired by a Buffy fic called "See Noir Evil" by MMcGregor over at Twisting The Hellmouth (www-dot-tthfanfic-dot-org). If you like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and Xander, and are not opposed to bouts of serious craziness, give it a read. It'll turn your head upside down, even if the ending is a bit Neon Genesis Evangelion-Death/Rebirth-y.
I won't wreck it for you yet, but you'll see before this prologue is done, that there is something seriously wrong here.
Mirror Shards
By Daniel Goldberg
Prologue: Bunshin
Being a Kage Bunshin was weird, he decided.
On the one hand, he was real; tangible; actual.
He could touch things; If they were in any way portable, he could move them; If they were sentient, he could interact with them, cause them pain, or pleasure, or some other sensation; If they were alive, he could usually kill them.
Usually being unless they were immortal, had extraordinary regenerative abilities, or if their power was too close to that of his Original.
Lately the ratio has been increasing in favor of the immortal-slash-regenerating side of the equation; He just wasn't entirely sure if they were multiplying, or if his Original was getting stronger.
On the one hand, his mind was twenty-four years old. He remembered every single thing his Original would remember; From Mizuki to Wave; From the chuunin exam to Sasuke's defection; He remembered each time he loosed the Kyuubi's power in his years training with Jiraiya;
Or, he remembered all the times that he remembered. It was confusing sometimes. Other times he questioned whether there was any different whatsoever.
He remembered fighting Akatsuki – first for Gaara, then for Asuma and then for Konoha.
He remembered the following skirmishes with Oto, stopping Kabuto's attempts to resurrect Orochimaru.
He remembered the battles against Hawk and Sasuke, until he was finally able to convince Sasuke to return, bringing Juugo, Suigetsu and Karin with him.
He remembered the battle against Uchiha Madara, who'd brought along the ninja of Kiri and Taki. He remembered creating nearly 100,000 Kage Bunshin to stall the assaulting forces until the support from Suna, Kumo and the minor allies of Konoha could arrive to pick up the slack.
He remembered fighting against Madara himself, struggling immensely both against the powers of his fully developed Mangekyo Sharingan, and against Madara's manipulation of the Kyuubi's consciousness and chakra.
With his chakra being constantly disrupted, and without the Kyuubi's regenerative powers, he had been at a tremendous disadvantage.
Frankly, it had been nothing short of a miracle when Kumo's forces arrived, the Hachibi's presence serving to distract Madara long enough for him to lop his head off with a well-thrown Shuriken Rasengan.
And he remembered passing out after.
On the one hand, he felt exactly like his Original did. He held the same people precious; grieved for Jiraiya, Kakashi and his parents the same way; held the same infatuations, along with the same indecision about what to do about said infatuations; sought the same approval from the same individuals; and from the same groups as well.
But, on the other hand, he didn't much have the right to do anything about it. He was just a Bunshin – not long for this world, just here to do a job, and then disappear in a burst of smoke.
Even if he couldn't remember what his orders were, exactly.
On the one hand, he remembered everything his Original did, but on the other hand, he knew that he hadn't actually experienced any of it.
Like this tanto. He remembered receiving it as pseudo-inheritance from Kakashi after Pein and Konan's attack on Konoha. But that had been nearly eight years ago, and he knew there was no way he could have existed even eight hours ago, much less…
Three hundred and sixty-five, times eight, times twenty-four, divided by eight, so really just times twenty-four…
Well, it was a lot longer than he could have existed, in any case.
Because even though on one hand, he was actually, tangibly real, on the other hand, he wasn't really real.
His Original was flesh and blood, muscle and bone, fat and neurons.
He was shade and chakra, energy made matter; solid enough to dish out hits, but not enough to take them.
A construct; a golem; shadow weaved with chakra to create a simulacrum of Uzumaki Naruto.
If his Original was to pierce his abdomen with a sharp object, it would penetrate, and he would bleed, perhaps to his death.
Whereas if he, the Bunshin, were to pick up this tanto, like so;
And held it against his stomach, like so;
And pulled it into him swiftly, like so;
Snikt;
Drip…
…Drip…
…Drip…
…And no poof.
He decided to lie down.
Apparently he was the Original.
"Peachy."
Hope you liked what I've got so far. Any questions, I'll be glad to answer. Any suggestions, I'll be glad to accept.
I am also actively looking for a beta to shoot wild tangents at. My only requirement is that you have good english, but if you've written a story I liked, your chances will probably be better. Not that it's any great prize to be my beta or anything. Nope, I'm not arrogant at all.
~Daniel Goldberg
PS: I'm also on the market as a beta-reader myself. Read my beta-reader profile if you like.