Hello there, my fabulous readers. This is Kuro, your author, and this is my VERY FIRST STORY. So be nice, eh? Let me delay you no longer and bring you, Infinitio.


Prologue:

The light was bright, it shone directly through my eyelids, the wind was rough, unrelenting, and yet my senses can detect even the smallest insect, jetting through the wind.

I do not remember where I am, or what time it is. I remember the gripping cold, the rush of darkness, the piercing fear. Even the thoughts send horrible chills down my spine.

My name is Namikaze Naruto, and I am shinobi of Konohagakure no Sato.

I am a fresh Jounin, as I had recently-or at least, I believe it was recently- taken the exam.

My friends had been nearly all wiped out, due to the imminent threat of Akatsuki breathing down our necks.

The Akatsuki, the source of all our problems, - though, I suppose, I am actually the source of our problems- seemed to be invulnerable, almost immortal. Their power, Madara's power, it was mind-bending.

I force my eyes open, and push my torso up into a sitting position, with much protest from my back and knees. I observe my surroundings, my eyes adjusting to the light.

It is a forest, quite dense from where I can see, and there is no evidence of where the wind had come from or gone to. What I am sitting on is extremely lush grass, amazingly supporting my weight so I do not touch the ground, like a bed.

There are sixty-seventy people all congregated in a relatively small space, which I believe to be a town.

Their overlapping conversations and screams and whispers are bursting forth and overloading my senses.

I close off my senses in that direction, but I can feel their footsteps, their heartbeat, it is amazing. I decide to check it out, and strain to stand up, my joints popping and groaning. I notice my attire, it is different then what I last recall.

I am wearing a black hakama, with white undergarments, and a long wooden sheath strapped to my back. What attracts my interest is the sheath, with a 3 and a half foot nodachi enclosed within it.

The nodachi has a normal hilt, like a samurai's katana, and a cross-shaped handguard.

The blade is pitch black, absolutely no light reflects off of it, and has a razor sharp edge, so sharp, it seemed as if I could cut the universe in half simply be slashing downwards.


I arrive at the center of the village, seemingly deserted, and decide to head to the nearest group of energies, the bar.

I walk in, and silence befalls the location. I walk up to the bar, and inquire the bartender a question that has been nagging my mind.

"What is this place?"

He replies with a gruff,"I ain't gotta answer to you, Shinigami!"

"Shinigami? I am not a Shinigami, I am shinobi, from Konohagakure."

"You can't fool me, Shinigami! You are wearing the uniform! You even have a Zanpakutō! I should throw you out for such foolishness!"

I was surprised. This man knew about this place, which I am positively sure isn't part of the Elemental Countries. What was this Shinigami he spoke of? The only place I can remember hearing the name was the story of my father, and the sealing of Kyuubi. Speaking of Kyuubi, where is he? I cannot feel his presence residing with my own, even though I can feel his constant pulse of power flowing through me. This is quite troubling. I am in a location I do not remember arriving at, which could possibly mean kidnapping, but no one was around when I woke. I must question his on this, I need more information.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, a pair of men with high concentrations of power and killing intent bursted through the doors barking at the customers in the locale and when they finally got up to the bar, they roared their demands to the bartender, abandoning me. I sneer at the arrogance of these imbeciles. My anger rolls off in waves, I feel my power rising, and the pair stirs. One of the dolts turns around to face me, and he shudders a bit. I would later learn that what made him fear me were my eyes, the cold, yet burning feeling of Kyuubi's eyes infused with my own. He still had the gall to ask me,

"Whaddya want, brat?"

I could even see him shitting himself through my blind rage when I replied,

"I….Want……YOUR………HEAD!"

And off it came. The blood would never wash off my hands that day, nor would my nodachi be clean of his foul blood.



Very mediocre, I know I was quite sidetracked while thinking of this. Review, if you want me to start on the rest of this magnificence.