Soul
Genre: General
Rating: K
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Author's Notes: This is just going to be a story of drabbles/short one shots that I write and don't think are really long enough to be their own individual stories. Each chapter will be different and will vary characters and themes and genres and ratings, though I'm pretty sure most of them will be rated K. Will take suggestions/ideas/request from reviewers if there's any idea you want me to attempt to write (evolving any characters, but no slash).
Won't be updated regularly, I'll just update whenever I get an inspiration and feel like writing random shit that doesn't have anything to do with any of my other stories/one shots. Might not follow the timeline/events in my other stories or maybe it will. Doesn't really matter.
Won't be beta'd because I'm far too lazy to get it beta'd and I don't particularly care a lot about these stories.
Please R&R…Thanks!
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Innocence is lost on the battlefield; sanity is lost during the sleepless nights full of night terrors and haunting memories. But souls, souls are cracked, broken, and finally lost in the ANBU. Few shinobi last more than three years in this job. It takes a toll on the mind; this blind, reckless murdering.
And yet I've watched this child grow up in ANBU. This mere child has lasted years longer than most adults. Well, he's not really a child anymore, his eighteenth birthday is today. He's birthday present? Kill the five shinobi who have been spying on our movements. He did it quietly, orderly, without question and without thought.
But he still hasn't gotten up; he's still kneeling next to the body of the fifth and final shinobi he killed. The body of a man who can't be more than fifteen years old. It's just the two of us here, just the two of us on this mission. I've seen a lot over the years, more than most me. But I have an uneasy feeling, a feeling that I'm about to see something I never expected.
I drop from my position in the trees and land in a crouched position. Standing up I walk quietly over to the silent teenager and kneel beside him. His mask had been broken and had fallen off during the short battle, he'll have to get a new one. I place my left hand over his right hand, the right hand that is still clutching the kunai imbedded in the child's neck.
His hand is covered in his victim's blood, still warm, and shaking underneath my hold.
"Kakashi," I whisper, careful to keep my voice low and calm, "Let's get out of here."
I turn my head, bringing my eye focus from our hands to Kakashi's face. Our eyes meet, blue to mismatched gray and red. For the first time in my life I watch as silent tears slowly creep out of those teenager's cold eyes.
His soul isn't cracked anymore, it's finally broken.
It won't be long until it's lost.