A/N: First published story (on this account at least)! Yay! TRAGEDY HERE I COME!!!
So I was reading Annacat's fanfiction last night, and I thought to myself, 'What if one of the characters was totally dependent on something like Neji in Without Naruto?' So then I wrote this. It isn't clear what drug it is, or if it's even a drug, but a certain male character is addicted to these pills. ENJOY.
Oh yeah, I don't own anything, and never will. Boo-hoo.
Crunch. Pop.
Your shoulder seems to be dislocated. You pop it back it, the pain doesn't hit you anymore. You reach into your pocket, and pull out another small, white pack of pills.
These pills are your savior in the battlefield. They make you a better person than you could ever truly be. Everything is sharper, clearer, easier to see. Rumors say that these are the ground up eyes of ancient warriors of the Uchiha.
Those bastards don't know how to stop interfering with your life. They keep coming up. He haunts your mind. The only man who you trusted your entire life to. You took his soon after. Betrayal is a ugly thing, and you just will not tolerate it. He had it coming, you always say to the girl with the shattered heart.
She hates you for it anyway.
Pop. Crunch.
You chew the tablets, savoring the bitter, sharp taste of the pills as they saturate your tongue and slide down your throat. Your body perks up. Muscles are tensing.
Your pupils are oddly dilated. Maybe you have taken too many packs of those little life-savers.
Ah, well. Just shrug it off. Like you always do. Like you are supposed to do. People could never see, never imagine what you do in your spare time. You seem too innocent for that. Just keep smiling, and they will never guess. Just. Keep. Fucking. Smiling.
People these days can't even see past their own nose, let alone see what the meaning of the accessories on your walls are. Knives, swords, certificates of a job well done, other objects that clearly point out what you do for a little extra cash.
'I wonder what I'll have to eat tonight. Maybe I should have a miso ramen instead of pork.'
These are your thoughts while slicing open another human's throat, deep red splattering your face. These are your thoughts when you are cracking open human skulls with fists of iron.
Crunch. Pop.
The enemy's head practically explodes. Oops. Guess you put a little too much chakra in your fist. Grey matter falls at your feet in stringy clumps. Steam trails off of it from the cold of the outside world. It reminds you of old man Ichiraku's ramen. Your stomach growls, eager to get home and eat; maybe you should have the pork ramen after all.
But a shinobi must fulfill the duty that he has given his entire life up to.
You sound just like a baby. Whining about how much you trained and slaved. Stop it. It does not suit your appearance. The appearance of distance.
You love your village. You would die for it, and everyone and everything in it. You just cannot show those types of emotions. They make you look weak. Shinobi must never, ever show weakness.
While thinking and indulging in some philosophy, another enemy falls. His abdomen is gone. Evaporated. Learning those lightning techniques from raven-boy paid off. The victims are dropping like flies, burned by the searing light that attracted them in the first place.
Pop. Crunch.
You used one too many chidori-substitutes. Your hand is almost broken. The strain of combining it with a little wind jutsu nearly made your hand burn clean off.
Get some more pills out. More pills mean more energy. More energy means more enemies dead. More enemies dead means more money.
Money is the root of all evil, after all. Maybe you should stay away from it. But then again, that new microwave is calling your name.
Speaking of waves, another human is launching themselves at you, wielding water in its purest form. The faceless and nameless ninja cries a war-cry as he throws the water straight at you. It's going way too slow, or at least it seems like it. Those pills really are a godsend. You dodge it effortlessly.
Crunch. Pop.
Maybe the pills work too well. Your already sharp canines are growing again. You never liked your teeth, they make you feel less human. You feel more and more detached the longer you live. Your jaw is popping, the teeth becoming too large for your mouth to accompany.
Even though it is just a dull ache, it kind of hurts. Just a little bit. The enemies are screaming. You realize you have ripped out a random kunoichi's jugular. The woman gurgles something, shining tears streaming down her face.
Then. Something…different.
She brings her hand up and strokes your face, fingers trailing red streaks down the length of your cheek. She has pale green eyes and hair the color of cherry blossoms, her mouth takes the form of a slight smile.
Her. Of all people, it has to be her.
Sharp, piercing laughter fills the air. Your laughter. But it is more than just a laugh. It's a scream, some crying, a yell of shock, and hysterical laughter all rolled into one.
You always loved her so much more than everyone else. More than the man with one eye. More than the boy who lived for revenge. More than anyone who ever existed.
Pop. Crunch.
Is that the sound of your heart breaking? You disgust yourself.
You really should be better than this. After a millisecond, the years of training pay off. You regain your composure.
You let the body of the eternally-broken girl drop to the ground, as crimson soaks into the earth.
Your hand reaches into the back pocket of your pants. Pop another pill, and the world goes away.
The corners of your mouth turn up to the sky.
Just keep smiling.
You decide that miso ramen sounds good after all.
A/N: I love me some angst. 'Tis delicious. If you didn't know "You" is Naruto (should that be are instead of is? I really have no freakin' clue). Raven-boy or Him is Sasuke,"Her/eternally-broken girl/shatttered heart girl" is Sakura, and the man with one-eye is Kakashi. Team Seven tragedy FTW. And, Naruto is a pill-popper. I want pills made out of emo-eyes. WHY CAN'T I HAVE EMO-EYE PILLS. :(
Review? :3
~KC