This is just something I've been mulling over in my head for a while. It's just the prologue to a long, in depth story, that I will definatley finish to the end. It'll be dark and angsty, hopefully. Something to entertain the dark edges of your mind.
Disclaimer: I don't own the anime Naruto.
Prologue
"Get out."
He almost didn't hear the words as the car lurched to a halt, the result of it being put into park before completely stopping. He hastily slid across the sticky leather seat, fumbling to open the car door. Not hastily enough though, the driver had already yanked the door open, the small boy stumbling into the dirt in the process.
"Up."
A hand grabbed at his collar, pulling him to his feet and forcefully shoving him forward. Too forcefully, though. The boy stumbled yet again into the dusty soil, staining his jeans and clouding his vision. He coughed his way to his feet, wiping the dirt from his eyes and the sweat from his forehead with the hem of his t-shirt. He listened as the door slammed shut and the trunk clicked open behind him.
When the dust clouds settled, he was able to discern his surroundings. A metal fence enclosed a barren lot, which held nothing more than dirt that glowed rich orange in the sunset and a black Lincoln Town Car and its two passengers.
The sky was vibrant pumpkins streaked with rusty blood. The air was thick and muggy. He heard the trunk close and footsteps approach him. A barrel was pressed through his blond locks before he could turn around; his breathing ceased as the gun was cocked.
He looked down at his filthy sneakers and choked on the lump of heat that rose in the back of his throat. After stealing a quick glance at the twilight above him, he clenched his eyes shut, concentrating on waiting for what was to come.
He thought about heaven, and inhaled.
"You must be scared."
He said nothing, just let out a shallow breath as he waited.
"Well? Are you scared boy?"
He did not trust his voice to answer. Only after the barrel thrust his head down further did he try to speak.
"N… No."
"No? You're not scared, eh? You're prepared to die for your actions?"
He bobbed his blond head slightly.
"How old are you, boy?"
He mumbled something. One syllable.
"What was that?"
"I'm ten years old."
"Ten years old," the man repeated. "And you're ready to die, at ten years old?"
He said nothing.
"You've caused quite a bit of trouble for a ten-year-old. You know that, kid?
He bobbed again. The man laughed.
"What would your parents say about you?"
He waited a moment before answering. "They're dead."
"Who takes care of you?"
"I do."
"You do, do you?"
"Yes."
"You take care of yourself by stealing from old shop men, do you?"
"…Yes."
"What do you steal?"
"What I need," the boy shrugged.
"Elaborate."
"Huh?"
"What do you steal?"
"Food, clothes."
"And antique katanas, too. A natural necessity."
Another shrug.
"Do you know how valuable those swords are?"
Shrug.
"And dangerous?"
Shrug.
"What did you need them for? What, were you planning on moving up to armed robbery now, kid?"
"No…"
"Eh?"
"They looked… Shiny."
The man scoffed. "That's kids for yeh."
The man ceased asking him questions, and the lot was silent for a minute. His eyes were open again, still staring blankly at his shoe laces.
"Listen, I'm not going to kill you." The silence was broken but the barrel remained at his head.
"I… Don't understand." His voice quivered in his throat.
"I am not going to kill you," the man repeated more slowly.
"You're… Lying! Adults always lie."
"I'm not lying to you. I'm recruiting you."
He pulled the trigger and the boy fell to his knees. His eyes were still open as his face collided into the dirt.
In the silence after the shot, the rich sunset positively glowed in the reflection of the flowing crimson that pooled in the thick orange soil.