COURAGE
勇気
Book One: 始める
-Prologue-
前 Mei
Before
"Do not try to live forever. You will not succeed." ~ George Bernard Shaw
~Authors Note~
Konnichiwa Minna-San!
It's me, Find~A~Way~Today here with my Sakura-Centric story, Courage. It will be non-canon for a certain bit, because in order to make everything work out I have to play with the timeline a bit, but hopefully you guys won't mind. Anyway, there will be another authors note at the end so please read that. Now, Enjoy the story!
Anything italicized, or like this means thoughts, and or what the person is thinking, or sounds, like Waa!
"This means talking"
Disclaimer: I, in no way shape or form own Naruto or any of it's associated characters, plot, personal, ideas, etc. And do not wish to be sued for the misconception that I do. Don't sue, cause' I'm broke. ;)
Death.
It was a constant, the only thing in this world that would never change. Beautiful, and gloriously eternal, it surrounded them all and would one day consume the very being of every last thing on earth. Death was inevitable.
But no. He mused; his tongue flickering out to wet his chapped lips. Not for me. Death will bow down to me, and I will live forever. He could taste the iron in the air; the metallic tang spared nothing, not even his tongue as it retreated back behind sharpened teeth. Even inside his mouth, it followed; the pungent taste of his own life force pooled, bathing his tongue, and staining his teeth a glorious crimson red.
The world around him was stained red with the life of his enemies, the ground, saturated by it squelched beneath his feet, buildings were splattered like abstract art with red, and even the sun seemed to bleed crimson into the sky. He breathed, and his nostrils burned sweetly as the welcomed smell of burning flesh and blood attacked them. A bit cliché, no? Even he bled. Lifeblood trickled over his lips and ran scared from the wounds on his chest, but they were trophies, proof of battle, and prof of victory. His robe was tattered, torn to pieces, and he was certain that there was more cloth feeding the fire now, than clinging to his dirtied skin. Everything was dead, only he was alive, and it was all made possible by his own strength. He shuddered, the knowledge that his power prevailed, that he had spilt this blood by his own hand was nearly enough to make him high. He had won, and lived. They had lost, and died.
Waa!
Normally, the cry of a wailing child, so disturbed, would be music to his ears, but now it nearly made him flinch for it meant that he was not quite champion, yet.
His eyes opened in a flash of saffron, and they quickly searched out his final target. Hm. He thought, a sadistic grin perched comfortably upon his face. Who would've known you would be the last, hm? Must've slipped my mind.
He prowled down from his perch at the top of the charred hill, and down into the gory fray that once was a village, only to stare at the three, bloodied bodies, which rested, at his feet. The two, larger carcasses lay on their sides, cradling the third, infantile one snugly between them, as if to protect them even in death. The clouded emerald eyes, and dirty blond crop of hair that sprouted from the largest body made him scowl despite his temper, and kick it's chest. The body rolled over, away from the other two and the blood soaked earth squelched as it landed on it's back. Pathetic, useless, lowlife. The list went on and on, and he could not be happier that the person- no, thing – at his feet was dead and gone.
He returned his attention to the two, remaining bodies, but stopped once he set his sights on the larger one. Almost instantly, heedless of his power, his gut clenched, his throat swelled and memories leaked from their prison in his mind.
"Aniki! Aniki, wait up!"
He couldn't help but match the words to a face, young and bright, living, with eyes the color of citrine and onyx hair that challenged the blackness of his nightmares. He felt a flash of horror. Not horror. He reminded himself. I don't get scared. But nothing he told himself could change the fact that, that face was now staring back at him. A face so similar to his own they had been confused on more than one occasion.
Her eyes, even with the clouded lust of death, were the same citrine from before. The paleness of her face, from death or natural complexion he didn't care, was unnoticeable behind the blood and dirt that caked it. Smudged tear tracks blazed a trail through the grime. Pitch black wisps of hair screamed to be touched, even in death, and so he did reaching out he fondled a strand between his fingers. Oh, Imouto. He thought, fingering the rough hair with something akin to fondness. It didn't have to be this way. You were strong, you were smart, and yet you chose to love some mutt. You chose this. But she had, he had offered her a chance, a chance to come with him. The same, powerful blood ran through their veins, and so he offered her the chance to abandon the wretched lizard she companioned with, and go with him so that she may live to her true potential.
She had wanted it, Smart girl I trained her well, wanted it badly, and yet instead of taking his hand, she had attacked him. Her own flesh and blood! She had grabbed his hand and used his body as a conductor for the lightning that soon after swamped him. He could still smell his own burning flesh, though he could not feel it because she had also fried his nerve endings, and knew he would need a new one soon.
With a final, dissatisfied sigh, he brushed over her eyes, closing them. "Just remember, Heiwa-Chan, you chose this for yourself. Sleep." He whispered, and stood. A final glance around at the utter carnage confirmed that his work was done, he had no reason to linger now, and so he turned, away from the burning bodies of those who might have called themselves his blood brothers, and walked away.
The wailing cries of the third body followed him as he did, and he smirked. I am still the champion, even if you live. He thought. For you are too pathetic for even I to kill, so die. Die in the arms of your mother and the eyes of your father, and remember that I have killed your entire family. And as he thought this, his legs carried him away. Away from the death, from the burning, from the blood, and from the wailing girl, still swaddled in the cotton blanket of their clan, with blond hair dyed carmine by the blood of her parents. Her eyes were green, and though he ignored it, deep in the pit of his gut, he had a feeling that this was only the beginning.
Target word count: 1,000
Total word count: 1,150
Hello again readers!
I really hope you enjoyed the Prologue of this story! So please, if you did and even if you didn't I'd really like to know! So please, READ, REVIEW, FAVORITE AND FOLLOW! BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY REVIEW!
P.S. Can anyone guess who's POV this chapter is from?
P.P.S. This is an open pairing story, i haven't YET decided on who to pair Sakura up with yet, so start voting via reviews or PM me now! Because if you guy's don't dictate it then i'll chose.
~Japanese-ey Translations~
(Most of these are just ballpark guesses due to the scant Japanese I know, Google translate, and a few other sites so please correct me if I'm wrong!)
前 (めい) = Mei = Before
勇気 (ゆうき)= Yuuki = Courage
始める (はじめる)= Hajimeru = Begin
Until next time!
Find~A~Way~Today.
