"You're such a yellowbelly, you know that?"
I'd been hearing that word refer to me for over a month now. If my name wasn't a topping for my favorite food, I think I'd have forgotten it by now. Naruto. Yeah, that sounded kind of right. I faintly feel someone break one of my already broken fingers. I can't even tell if it hurts anymore.
"Yellowbelly."
"Coward."
Yellowbelly, Coward. That's what my new name is. Coward Yellowbelly. It's such a weird thing to think, the word yellow being able to have such a derogatory meaning. Yellow was supposed to be kind and warm and sunshine and happy summer days. But now it didn't feel so kind. Or warm. Or sunshine and happy summer days. It felt like a slap in the face, a pile of shit on my name.
It felt like someone pissing yellow into my eye.
I hear a buzzing noise somewhere far away and I wonder if they started the chain saw again. They took off my leg yesterday, but I can't recall which one. It took hours for it to close up properly. But that might have been because they keep opening it back up. Something is none too carefully run across my scalp and bits of piss start to fall from my head.
No…wait. It's hair.
Not piss.
My hair.
Not piss.
They're cutting my hair.
Not piss.
My hair's yellow.
Piss yellow.
I remember.
Right?
Right.
My mind starts working for a second again and start to wonder. Why's my name Coward Yellowbelly? When'd it change?
It comes back to me in little tiny flashes.
Akatsuki.
I had to leave.
Lead them away.
From home.
My home.
But they stayed.
And destroyed.
I came back.
Too late.
Everyone gone.
Gone, gone, gone.
Akatsuki had left.
Those left hated me.
So much.
I let them do what they wanted.
I couldn't blame them.
I hated me.
So much too.
Because I'm the Coward.
The Yellowestbelly of all.
My thoughts interrupt themselves. I'm being hoisted, dragged, moved. There's yellow dancing all around me, flames on sticks. My eyes water. Bright. Too bright.
They lift me. Dump me. Stand me up and tie me.
I glance a look out. So many fuzzy faces. So many too bright flames on sticks. I look down again, and I suddenly see that, oh, my leg and stump is on fire! It's eating me pretty quick, and the people are roaring, all mighty and happy.
I don't know if it hurts, but I'm kind of sure it did.
The last thing I think about is yellow.
Happy, happy yellow.
I think it's kind.
And warm.
And sunshine and happy summer days.
But then again I'm just a dead yellowbelly. What better do I know?