…2012…

Well the world ended then, but not like you'd think. There were no earthquakes, no erupting volcanoes, no tsunamis, and no natural disasters of any kind. Aliens didn't invade. Animals didn't savagely attack or bring disease. Surprisingly no zombies. Computers didn't randomly break down, nuclear bombs stayed disarmed. In fact there had never been stronger alliances between countries; war wasn't even a thought amongst the billions of people that roamed the Earth.

You'd think that just one of those things would trigger the event that caused the end of life as we knew it, but no, it was just because of one mistake that one stupid shinobi made. That's right. One Naruto Uzumaki caused our world to meet its doom. Dragging his damned fight with the Juubi, or whoever, into our world in order to save his friends.

Now half our planet lies in ruin, burning or drowned, either way it has forced savagery amongst us. His people run about our broken cities 'helping' those of us who are left, 'saving' us from the gangs and drug addicts, the insane and the greedy. We, those classed as helpless, are stuck hiding and fighting to save ourselves. No one else matters if you want to survive.

And that's where I come in.

Me, your less than average teen. I have brown hair that ends just below my shoulder blades and hazel eyes. I have a baby face and I know it, it makes me look twelve when I'm actually eighteen. I'm also short and thin, not starved just… thin. I've always been small for my age but I guessed that's what's kept me alive for so long. No one suspects a girl my size to be carrying a gun with her at all times, or that I've used it multiple times to get my way here.

I crept along the dark aisles of the local supermarket when I needed food and this was the only place to get some that wasn't completely mould ridden. The only problem was that this place was one of the many favoured hang-outs for the local gang.

And they did not like people trespassing on what they saw to be their property.

I kept low, pistol ready in my hands, creeping along the lower shelves just searching for something that I could take away with me. Looking closely around the corner I could see three of them smoking and mucking about. Typical greedy shit heads. They were facing the other way so I rolled over to the next aisle before they saw me and continued my slow creeping. It didn't take long for me to find a dented can of beans, gross but it was food. It was all I needed. Now I just got to get the fuck out of here before anyone notices...

"Oh man you should've seen the fucker. One click and fucking BANG! Brains went everywhere."

"That's nothing. This one bitch I came across wouldn't put out, so I tied her to a fence, fucked her stupid, and then rammed the bitch down with my car. She fucking split in half!"

"Shit man!"

Disgusting. This is what most of us have turned into.

I pressed myself up against the shelves, readied my pistol, and aimed. Clicking three times they fell with three thuds, the hum of some sort of electronic device echoing out as I ran out. If there were three inside then there were bound to be more waiting outside for them. Immediately after I left the building the smell of fires and gasoline filled my lungs, alarms from cars beeped in the background of screams and gun fire. This was normal. This was how we lived. Ever since the Juubi arrived three months ago this is what society became.

The battle between Naruto and the Juubi somehow lead them here, they destroyed everything in their fight. He won and the creature was put into the Pacific Ocean, never to be reached again, but that didn't solve our problems. Shinobi flittered in and out as they pleased, deciding to move innocents into their world like it was just supposed to make up for all those who were dying. They knew how to move through worlds but wouldn't share the information.

Some call them saviours. I call them criminals. If it wasn't for their intervention then I would be out in town just shopping with my friends, who have most likely been raped or murdered, but now I was racing up a ladder trying to get back to my hideout before I was shot down myself.

I currently lived in a roof. Not on, in. I used to live here with some of my friends, but that was more than a month ago. There was a blanket in a corner for my bed, a dulling knife and some ammunition in another, and finally another change of the same clothes I wore. You couldn't be picky; all I had was some black shorts, a grey man's shirt and a small green bag that I could keep my ammo in. Even though I had nothing, it was still more than most. In my roof I had a small hole facing the road, I could see out and no one could see in. The entrance was covered by some wood I found and if anyone got past that, the roof material was weak enough for me to kick down and escape. I was safe. That's what I had when others didn't, and I couldn't offer them salvation without putting myself at further risk. It was a harsh world but it's the only one we had.

I covered up my entrance hole, after making sure I wasn't being followed, and grabbed the cleaver I had, chopping the top off the can so I could access the slimly beans inside. I couldn't make a fire without alerting someone or setting my place on fire. I ate the beans raw. You kind of stop tasting after you eat out of a trash can, you just shove in and swallow as quickly as possible. Meal done there was only one thing left for me to do. I crept over to my blanket and lay down; using my bag as a pillow I shut my eyes and planned my next day.

Never reminisce. It only creates tears.

I woke to the sound of my watch beeping, I quickly silenced the noise and peered into the darkness. The moonlight that filtered through the curtains was just enough light to make out the sleeping forms of my roommates.

I never bothered to learn their names, it didn't matter.

The shinobi expect us to make friends as quickly as they make enemies. It irritates me the way they move us around like cattle, claiming that it's all for our own good. When the whole reason behind this shitty mess is because of them.

I quietly stood on my bed, moving slowly to avoid the creak of rusty springs and reached up into the small hole in the ceiling, I fumbled around until I felt the familiar leather grip of my sword.

I pulled the weapon out and strapped the scabbard to my belt.

It had taken a long time to finally procure a weapon, and it was my one possession that I had in this hell hole.

I quickly tied my long blonde hair back into a ponytail and silently climbed out the window, we were only on the second story so I lowered myself until I was hanging on only by my fingertips, then dropped, crouching down and rolling backwards on impact with the ground. Lucky for me I'm so tall.

Step One: Get out of the building. Complete.

Step Two: Get past the Gate.

It was still dark, but it wouldn't last, I had to be quick.

I crept along the side of the building, keeping quiet. But so far there were no guards. There haven't been many break out attempts so I didn't expect to see anyone. That didn't stop my heart from racing at the smallest sound.

I made it to the Gate with no problems, but now was the issue, the only way past was to go over.

Because for a shinobi, protecting us is keeping us inside a huge fucking cage and calling it 'home'.

The Gate was a great stone wall that ran around the area where we refugees had been allocated after they 'saved' us from our homeland.

Of course we have the freedom to roam the area within the Gate, and can leave with permission, as if that makes it seem like home.

If it looks like a prison and it feels like a prison...

But I had taken the opportunity of my limited freedom to walk around the perimeter of the Gate and managed to find one small area where the stones had enough foot holes to climb to the top, now was the chance to test it out.

Backing up a few feet I took a running leap and managed to grab onto a small protruding stone, then stepped into a small crevice. So far so good.

The moonlight was barely sufficient to see in the dark and I had to fumble around blindly whenever a cloud passed overhead but after a few of the longest minutes of my life. I was finally at the top.

It was too high to drop to the ground, so I walked along the top to the nearest tree and jumped.

My hands scrambled to grip onto the branches, leaves blinded me and scratched at my face. I caught a branch and held on tight. Then once I had regained my composure I dropped to the ground and took my first few steps of freedom, which then quickly turned into my first sprint of freedom as the alarm bells sounded.