Summary: This is a prologue. It also might not make sense. Yet.
An arm was raised, the fist clenched. The arm swung, and the hand opened, whatever contained within soaring deep into the night, no indication of its passing. Although there was no light to be seen, its progress was tracked steadily, eyes following it clearly. The eyes were those of a small child, whose size was indicative of an age under ten. Three whiskers running across both sides of his face were the only things that might have differentiated him from any other child. His legs swung in the air, his body perched on a rock at the edge of the wall containing Konoha.
The silence was deafening. Just hours earlier, Konoha had been loud and bustling, but now, all was quiet. People knew better then to wander around during the night. The only lights shining were in the homes of the rich, those who could afford protective measures. Lights and sounds were a beacon to the denizens of the night, and only those who had could afford the strongest protections dared alert the world during the night.
On a normal such night, the streets would have some ninja in them, not that anybody would notice their existence. A good ninja was both unseen and unheard, and the nightime tested the abilities of even the best. However, this night was that of the new moon, and no moonlight was there to illuminate the streets. The number of people that would dare stray outside of their protection on such a night numbered in the hundreds, out of the millions upon millions of people that dotted the elemental nations.
In a distant corner of the village, another boy sat, this time on a porch, staring out at the surrounding houses. "Don't worry, just wait," he whispered. "Just a little longer." His eyes, blood red, gazed out, looking at nothing in particular. The single pupil swam around the outside, orbiting the center of the eye. He spoke to the darkness, and the night replied to him.
A man with silver hair, the lower half of his face covered, lay on the ground. Behind him sat a huge stone, etched with names. His right hand ran over a series of letters over and over, continually, his left hand clutching the respective eye. The night pressed down on him, overbearing pressure crushing down. He did not make a sound, but his face betrayed the agony he was in. Slowly, steadily, he dragged his left hand down, revealing the eye it hid. Tears of blood trickled down from the eye, soon absorbed by the mask. He gazed into the darkness, and it gazed back.
The child sat on the edge of the wall, staring out into the darkness. Had anybody been there, they might have wondered what he was looking at, especially since there was no light to be seen. He stared into the darkness, and night whispered back. Eventually, the child rose, standing up in a smooth motion. He turned towards the village, eyes fixated on a lone corner. There was no light, but his eyes glowed red.
The night howled, and the world screamed, yet almost nobody heard it. It rushed by, a wave of energy, the more sensitive turning in their beds, beset by an uncomfortable feeling. The night spoke, and the unfortunate heard its words.
Deep within the world, far from Konoha, the pulse echoed. The night howled, and monsters raised their heads, forehead protectors shining in the pitch darkness.
Simultaneously, they grinned.