Naruto is owned by Kishimoto and his publishers.
There had been rumors but I knew they were unsubstantial.
Society had thrived for a hundred years as we lived a perfect and peaceful life. Everything we needed in life we were able to create: The freshest food picked from a brother's garden that afternoon; beautifully woven clothing from gramma's loom; houses crafted over generations by a father and grandfather in large familial plantations.
While the production of such necessities was a joy to create and use, culture and artistry had expanded and become unparalleled in every form! Scholars and entertainers produced plays that made me laugh, cry and sigh with contentment as the drama unfolded; orchestral music pervaded the air even during the most humble of tasks; sculptures, paintings and tapestries were presented on street corners and homes alike.
There had been rumors but they always disappeared over time.
Every month I would join my family and neighbours and watch the red moon rise over the horizon. The festivities were always rapturous as we enjoyed the peace provided by it. Brother always created the most interesting dishes as he shared his culinary skill for all to enjoy; Father would match brother's food with his own dishes-pottery thrown and burnished in elegance and beauty; And Mother worked a forge, preferring to create more practical tools for farmers. But each festival she would create a centerpiece to match her son and husband in skill.
Two rules.
That was all.
Just two rules: Don't participate in sorcery; don't engage with ghosts.
Idiot!
One month ago I was ready to show that I could produce the most beautiful of art.
Now? Now I feel alone.
Today I followed mother to the forge. She so caringly and patiently formed her lump of metal at the fire. She always had time for me though!
We would talk of boys while she combed my hair and laugh quietly together. We would go on a walk in the forest and simply enjoy each others presence. I always loved spending time in nature, it had this presence of life that I rarely felt elsewhere.
Two rules: Don't participate in sorcery; don't engage with ghosts.
The first week had been the worst. A rumor had spread, but soon even that had disappeared.
I tried to talk to brother while he made his barley porridge. I might as well have talked to the porridge.
I moved father's dirt bowls. The first few times a strange look had passed over his eyes, but soon he just remembered how forgetful he tended to be and continued his work.
Did I say the first week was the worst?
The mental pain was terrible, but somehow physical discomfort only expounded my suffering.
Barley porridge without an ounce of seasoning would not satiate my stomach while my cotton dress and wooden sandals chafed at my skin.
With nothing to do and no one to acknowledge me, I started to explore.
I was stunned the first time he saw me and actually waved.
He could see me!
I waited half afraid and half overjoyed. He looked to be a young man, several years older than I am, but still full of life. His eyes held my attention the most. I had never seen anything like them. Orange and black stared reassuringly at me and I could feel the life of nature from them.
Two rules.
I soon realized, that like me, he was both a ghost and a sorcerer.
Still, I had nothing else.
I followed him to a village he told me of nearby.
It was a plain thing, wooden houses lined the street with a store and an inn at the crossroad. People in drab clothing worked in some nearby fields while children played with a ball in the street.
It took me a couple days but I soon realized that every person in the town was a ghost and sorcerer. Even the children could be seen blowing smoke through a water ring or racing paper birds through an earthen maze.
Everyone laughed and smiled when they saw the blond man who was trying to find a family I could live with.
By listening I was able to discern he was a "Shadow Guide".
I was also able to learn that not everything was perfect here.
I heard a rumor about a war happening in the west. I heard a rumor of famines striking to the north while a flood had struck a large rivertown to the south. Worst of all, I saw a child push another child in anger.
I know the rumors are true.
Barbarians, that's all they are. Barbarians and ghosts and sorcerers.
So I returned home.
I dutifully prepared for the rising of the red moon with the rest of the family. Brother prepared his best cuisine while father cast the platters on which they rested. I had watched as mother molded a lump of metal into a young girl and sat it proudly in the middle of the table.
I will never use sorcery again, please, I don't want to be a ghost!
I can hear my family laugh and smile as they enjoy the red moon, but all I see is a white lump of rock in the sky.
They had a rumor but I disappeared so quickly.
One shot written to see a different perspective. I hope it was enjoyable.
