Wow, am I really doing this? I guess I am.
Hello everyone. It's me. Are you surprised that I'm actually rewriting this? Even when I said it was discontinued?
So am I. I still can't believe this.
Well things have happened, I'm getting closer to graduating middle school and become a freshman, although I'm not entirely prepared.
Lost friends, made new ones, continued to keep sisterly ties with Sailor and Lavonee. And more and more become a bitch.
Yep.
Btw, you guys thank Evil's Wolf, for she was the one who asked about rewriting it. (even if it was almost a year and a half ago)
Although I stopped watching Naruto for a long time, I'm write anyways, because what better else do I have to do aside from DeviantArt?
I've also grown up a lot, so don't expect me to act like the immature 12 year old I used to be.
I might start using questions and fun facts, not sure why, I just get pretty bored. *shrugs*
Alright, I'll quit talking now.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or Akatsuki. Just the way too many OCs in this story.
And now presenting:
Akatsuki Generation Passed On.
~PROLOGUE~
In the rainy outskirts of Amegakure, lies a desolated house.
Well, it wouldn't exactly be called a house, rather a shack that had seen better days.
The walls had crumbled long ago, however the foliage that once served as camouflage weaved in and through the cracks and holes of the foundation.
The roof, deteriorated from the lack of support and rust. The rotten door creaked ever so slightly in the wind.
Inside you'd find it just as damaged as it was on the out. Broken picture frames, tousled chairs, cracked tables lie scattered among the wreckage. Yellowed, withered papers flapped around the room, but somehow stayed within the walls. If you could picture what it could have been like, the room was rather professional, formal, yet it claimed it's own child-like creativity.
Among the faded pictures in the frames, it was easy to tell.
Drawings, writings, and photographs consisted of multiple children of different builds and sizes. Some smiled, some scowled, others just goofed off hoping it would be captured in thousands of memories.
Many of times they succeeded.
Makes you wonder, what went on in their lives.
How they lived compared to the generations before them and after. And many of times who they were or could have been.
That's why I will begin to tell you this story, for I was one of the children in those photographs.
The story may make you laugh, make you cry, or just keep you on the edge of your seat wondering what could happen next.
Also, during our time together, my dear reader, try to figure out who I am. I won't give much detail about myself until the very end, at least, I hope.
I hope you enjoy this story, for I will have much fun reliving it with you while on the way.
Yep, short prologue is short. But you get the idea. I won't start questions yet, I'll wait for a bit. And do try to figure out the mystery writer. Who knows, you might be surprised who it may be. Even I don't know yet. Heh.
Review!
