A/N: I wanted to try a different style of writing so I wrote this. There may be some incorrect information in it so sorry in advance for that. I'd really like some feedback on how this was written so if you like it or hate it, please tell me why. This will also be confusing at first, but it will make sense if I decide to continue. The first part is written from the point of view of Kiba and the second part is from the point of view of Shikamaru.

Warning: This is a MATURE fic, it contains strong language, sexual content and violence, so be aware of that before you read.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of it's characters

Faith In Chaos

Whats the smell?

Smells like blood.

Smells like death.

Smells like the end.

How I got here is simple; I fucked up. Like I always, I screwed up, and like always, I let everyone down.

You probably don't want to hear this. It's best if you just leave now. Leave me like everyone else has. You don't to know what happens, how this ends. Chances you already know, you've already heard this all before. Leave me with my back to this tree, the blood pooling, seeping into the soil. I'll become another tree, but like always, I'll be overtaken and whither.

In the end everything returns to the earth.

Smells natural.

I try to stand but after I raise myself a few centimeters I fall with a painful thud. That'll happen to you when you've lost several pints of blood and all the tendons in your legs are slashed and your muscles torn.

I can hear laughter now and I'm confused, I don't see or smell anyone around yet this hollow laugh keeps echoing. I then realize its me laughing. I've lost control. There isn't enough blood going to my brain and I can't think straight. Your subconscious takes over.

It'll be alright, he says. He's got such a serious look on his face, he always does, so I know he's telling the truth.

So then why am I here?

They say when you die your life flashes before your eyes. That's so cliché but it feels true enough.

"Kiba, get ready, we have to leave in ten minutes!" My mom is yelling.

I'm eight years old again, pulling the covers over my head, my mom hovering over me, a frown on her face. "I don't want to go," I whine, kicking my legs to better portray my reluctance.

There's pain shooting up my leg now. Kuromaru's got a hold and he's biting down hard.

Damn dogs.

When I get my own it'll kick that ones ass.

I yelp out in pain, bolting up right, shaking my moms dog of my leg. "What the hell did you do that for?" I yell. Kuromaru walks back to my moms side. Shes got her arms crossed across her chest and a frown on her face, stretching out those maroon triangle tattoos that have become all too familiar.

"Because I told him to," She barks at me. "Now get up and get ready to go."

"But I hate church."

Smells like religion.

I'm back to reality now and I'm hating every minute of it. Pains shooting all around my body, my mutilated legs, my arms, my chest. It sucks.

I never got why Konoha had a church. My mom would drag me there every week and we'd sit in those miserable wooden benches and listen to some guy spit out crap that you knew even he didn't believe. The room was small but it still would only be half full.

"You'll thank me later in life," She says.

Well its later and life. I don't think I'm thanking you, there doesn't seem to be much to be thankful for. I know she didn't believe in that stuff either so why did she go? Now that I think of it she didn't start going until after what happened to dad.

I start spasming as another coughing fit over takes me and I spray blood everywhere. I look down at myself and I see a piece of shrapnel still stuck in my side where my jacket got torn. Even in my current state I can't help but think if thats going to get infected.

"Kiba, don't pick at it, it'll get infected?" Hana reprimands, knocking my hand away from the scar on my arm.

I'm eleven again and I'm fascinated with this cut I got on my arm. I was training with Akamaru when a Kunai ricocheted off a tree the wrong way and tore a gash on my arm. Hana had stitched it up and now was watching me like a hawk, making sure I didn't pick at it.

She's compulsive, Hana. She's a neat freak and if everything isn't in order it'll give you a disease. It probably has to do with her being a doctor, she knows how much bacteria is on everything you touch and it scares her. She doesn't want to loose anyone else.

"Don't worry, it won't get infected, its just itchy."

Smells like compulsion.

I think she rubbed off on me because now every time I see a cut or scar I'm always thinking its going to get infected. Thats a shame because I manage to get injured a lot.

Obsessive compulsion runs in families.

Compulsions and addictions are funny things. My compulsion is smell. I blame my genes. Some people have to count everything they do, have to do everything a certain number of times or some people have to collect every little thing they see or like my sister, clean everything. I need to label everything with a smell, even if it doesn't have a scent. I have smells for everything, events, feelings, and of course people.

Addictions are compulsive uses of substances or engagements in activities. Normally addictions form by chemicals in the brain. When you partake in certain activities your brain releases hormones or Endorphins that slowly your brain becomes accustomed to and needs. I'm not quite how it works but I guess my brain creates some type of hormone when I smell certain things and slowly I've become addicted to smells, among other things...

"Fuck, harder dammit!"

I'm seventeen again and I have got this hot blond girl pinned up against the wall. I comply with her demands and pound her so hard against the wall something is likely to break. She yells out and digs her fingers into my bare back, pulling me closer. Her heads thrown back so I suck at her neck, tasting her sweat.

And then I realize, with me being deep in her and her perfect breasts hanging right in front of my face, I don't remember her name. Thats likely to happen when this happens as often as it did. Just a glance around my room and I can remember all the times. That brunette with the nice ass over near the window, the girl with the messed up face but perfect body over on the dresser, and countless who actually made it to the bed.

That's an advantage of being a shinobi. You never know when you're gonna die so you aren't all that picky, same goes for the girls.

Easy is a word for it.

I'll finish with this girl and I'll tell her I'll find her later, but with any luck by later I'll be dead.

"What's your name again?" I ask, stopping for a moment.

She's breathing deeply and she tilts her head back to normal to look at me. "Fuck...you..." She says in between gasps.

"That's a nice name."

Smells like pheromones.

I'm back in this damn forest again. If I had any blood left I'd probably have a hard on right about now from all those thoughts. The power of the brain is amazing; without any external stimuli you can subconsciously cause your body to react.

"Don't worry, it'll be okay in the end," she says.

She's standing in front of me now, that awkward smile on her face. It's luminescent, and the site is relaxing.

"Hinata..." I murmur. I can't even hear myself, you energy to move your muscles and that's not something I've got right now.

"Don't worry..."

She can't be standing here, it doesn't make sense. Regardless, I can't think of anything else to say now. It doesn't matter, there has to be someone else in this world that has something more interesting to say, I don't know why you even still care.

Smells like the end.

Everything is dark now. Its been that way for a while.

Solar Retinopathy is what they call it. Basically what happens is solar radiation, if your exposed to it for too long, will damage the macula--the retina. Basically what thats saying, don't stare at the sun.

It's funny how your greatest ally can so quickly become your worst enemy. The sun can make shadows, but if you look at it a little too long, it can take your site.

Flash bombs don't help much either.

The condition is completely reversible, for the most part. Just wait a couple months and your vision will be back to normal, they say. I'd like to believe them but my vision still doesn't seem to be coming back.

Seven steps.

Thats the distance from my bed to the bathroom. This is how I get around now. I measure everything in strides. If I were anyone else this would have been a hell of a lot harder to adapt.

Luckily, I am me, and even though its been a few days I can navigate confidently. Its strange how much everything can change without just one sense. Figure I would be so lucky to loose the one that I would deem the most important. If I couldn't smell of taste anything, no big lose right. But no, I've lost the only thing that can make me useful now, so I'm left to worry.

"Are you okay?" My mom asks.

I jump in shock. I've been out of it, I couldn't even detect her coming. Shes about three steps away but beyond that I don't know where she is. That's what will happen without disparity, when you only have complete use of one ear. Sound localization relies heavily on the difference between what each of your ears here. If say, one of your eardrums gets damaged by an explosion, you won't be able to locate sounds as easily, especially if you can't see the source of it.

"Have any of them come back?" I ask.

"No..."

Of course they haven't.

I should be out looking for them right now.

But with no eyesight and partial hearing there isn't much I can do. I'd just be running into trees.

One step.

Thats how many steps it takes to change your life.

"Pay attention, Shikamaru."

When I was younger, my mom and dad constantly pressured me to study more, or to at least just not sleep at the academy. They'd shove books in my face about tactics and math. Geometry will help you in combat, they would say.

"This is so troublesome," I'd mutter, rolling my eyes, avoiding work at all cost.

"You should take things more seriously," My mom would tell me, "If you just listen to your dad and do this stuff it could very well save your life someday."

"Yeah, I'm sure it will."

I always knew it would, yet I still couldn't force myself to care. Its kind of funny how math is everywhere you look. How ordered a world can be that seems to constantly be in chaos. Everything in the world can be explained with math, with science.

The world is based on a formula.

How a species reproduces can be predicted by a series of numbers. Plant growth can be explained with one proportion. Even the worlds natural tendency to move towards disorder can be explained with one equation.

So if the world is so predictable then how come I failed them? If the world is so predictable I should be able to save them, at least one of them.