Life and Death in Pain and Obscurity: A Naruto Story
Chapter One: Pointless Existence = Existing in Death
Dear Diary.
I can't believe I'm bothering to record my pointless existence, but I am.
So, a bit about me, I suppose.
I have brown hair and grey eyes. I'm not precisely tall, but you couldn't call me short either.
I'm not pretty, but I'm not ugly either. I'm plain. My mother died when I was one, I'm told, and my father died when I was four. I have no friends. My name means nothing.
I'm not poor. I have enough to eat, and my roof doesn't leak. I think. There isn't enough rain here for me to be certain.
I'm just a face-in-the-crowd, just a nameless person. As a nameless person, you'd think I'd have a normal, not-particularly-horrible life, right?
As a nameless person, of course I couldn't have issues, right?
Only the "main-character" important people have issues, right?
Right?
DEAD WRONG!!!!!
Signed,
One Who Doesn't Matter
Life and Death in Pain and Obscurity: A Naruto Story
Chapter Two: IT'S NOT FAIR!!!!!
Dear Diary.
I suppose I'd better clarify my last entry.
What I meant was that just because I don't mean anything in the great scheme of things doesn't mean that I'm not allowed to be sad, to be angry. Because I am! My anger, my wrath, it seethes and bubbles, merging into a greater creature. And I'm helpless to it. I can't control, can't contain, won't contain it. My fury consumes me, and yet I can't do a thing about it. I sit and shake in the dark of my room, and I want to scream but I can't.
My cousins went off to the Chuunin exams a while ago, and my favorite of them (for all that I hate him) was completely altered. His raging emotions were calmed, and now he talks of little but the one who saved him from himself.
Night comes swift.
Daybreak comes forever before becoming recognizable.
How could my cousin have be saved so…. so…. quickly, so effortlessly, it seems.
IT'S NOT FAIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Just because I hide my pain, my turmoil, because my madness isn't as dramatic as some (and besides, no one wants to believe that I might need help, they all prefer the easy way out), I am expected to be as plain, simple, and happy as I pretend to be.
I'm not the sort you'd expect to cry herself to sleep, or not want to leave her house because that would make her different from the rest!
I built a wall to hide behind when my father died, to hide my pain. I hated the sympathy I received. Now I'm dying behind that wall, and no one knows, nor do they care to know.
Signed,
A Mere Face in this Sea of People.
Life and Death in Pain and Obscurity: A Naruto Story
Chapter Three: Beyond the Skin
Dear Diary.
Would that I had the courage to end it?
I suffer in the shadows. None care to see, for I'm the nameless girl. I don't matter.
Why don't people ever look beyond the skin? I'm sure I'm not the only one that's slowly dying, but too far gone to say a word.
Those like us can't help ourselves very well (most of the time). We need proof that we're more than mere faces-proof that isn't there.
When I speak, no one looks at me. No one listens. I don't have a name that they can call me by, so they don't acknowledge that I exist.
One day I announced that I would die in the night. A lady standing behind me told me to stop being dramatic, and when I turned around she gasped and walked away quickly. They've changed me into a nightmare creature, but one that it's taboo to speak of. Only a few people know who I actually am, though, and it's staying with those select few.
One of these days,
And it might not be long,
The night will fall,
And I'll be gone.
While I could die,
With blood spilled everywhere,
As it is I know that none will care.
Signed,
She that could die and remain both unknown and unloved.
Life and Death in Pain and Obscurity: A Naruto Story
Chapter Four: Death of No-name
The night air of Suna was frigid.
A girl, ordinary in her appearance, scuttled from rooftop to rooftop. She displayed agility all-but-unheard-of in any but a Shinobi.
She bore a knife.
The girl arrived at her destination and looked about nervously. She didn't belong here, not on Gaara's roof.
Slowly the child-she couldn't have been more than twelve-raised the knife.
Swiftly she brought it down. The blade glittered in the pale moonlight as it cut deep into the flesh of her arm. She bit back a scream at the sudden pain.
The girl fell to her knees, dropping the weapon. It clattered on the roof tiles, tracing lines of her blood in a delicate pattern. She sat there beside the knife, gasping with the pain and shaking with silent sobs. Finally she looked up from the blood pooling around her. Her tears had stopped. Her eyes now contained a icy, cruel sense of malice-and purpose.
She leaned forward, tracing her finger in the blood on the roof. She began to write, using the blood as ink.
By the time she was done her breathing had become ragged. She stood shakily, and began her journey back to her home. She left much slower than she had arrived.
A few minutes later:
A certain redhead, having finally escaped his chattering siblings, slipped up to the roof. What he saw….. startled him, to say the least.
A fair amount of blood was towards the far edge of the roof. As he approached it, Gaara noticed a trail leading away from the pool, off the roof, and some writing in front of the puddle. Gaara knelt to read the bloody writing:
Dear cousin,
I have no doubt that you will wonder who did this, so follow the trail to learn so, as well as a side of your uncle that you never knew.
-She who watches in silence.
Gaara stood, puzzled at the message. Whoever had left it claimed to be his cousin, and he was certain that he had no such relative.
But whoever it was had been right-he was curious, so he left along the obvious trail of blood that had been left by his visitor.
When he approached the end of the trail, Gaara saw a girl clutching her arm on the next rooftop. It was lower than the one he was on.
The girl had a knife, he saw, and she fell to her knees. She raised the knife. Gaara almost called out to her, but something held him back. The girl sighed, as if something had been confirmed. She then thrust the knife into her chest.
Gaara jumped down to her roof, running over to where she was. She hit the tiled roof hard, beginning to slide down one side of it. He grabbed her wrist, pulling her limp form back to the narrow flat stretch on the roof. Her eyes opened-and she smiled. Blood gushed from her wounds, yet still she smiled. Gaara set her down. She coughed violently, blood spraying from her mouth.
"Gaara…… I didn't….. hate….. you……" she whispered. Gaara didn't know what she was talking about-he had never known this girl! She was struck by more coughs, her whole body shaking with them. "See, my father….. your uncle…. Yashamaru….. he told me….." she coughed again, before starting a bit stronger, "he told me too much. I….. wanted to warn you…… but…… he wouldn't….. let me….." The girl's voice faded until Gaara had to strain to hear it. She reached up and removed the knife from her chest, pulling a piece of paper from it. She held it out to him. Gaara took it gingerly. She smiled weakly again.
Her hand fell.
"Goodbye….." she whispered, using precious breath.
Gaara stared at her. Her breathing had stopped. This girl seemed to know exactly who he was, yet he couldn't recall ever having seen her. She claimed to be the child of Yashamaru, but….. Even the way she was, bloody and dead, she had a certain forgettableness to her.
Finally Gaara looked at the paper she had given him. It had fingerprints on it in blood. He turned it over to see a message. Her handwriting had grown worse towards the end, as blood loss had taken its toll on her:
Dear Gaara,
By now you will know that Yashamaru had a child-me. His wife, my mother and your aunt, died of a disease when I was one. You know how my father died.
My father had a……. special curse for me, although I never knew why. I never had a name. I'm a face-in-the-crowd, literally. I'm known by few and hated by all. I am the essence of a nameless face.
I don't know when you'll arrive, so if I didn't get to tell you already, I never hated you. I was simply bitter that you were saved, that you were healed, and I was not.
Fare well, please.
I hope I haven't been the cause of too much pain.
We both had more than our fair share of that.
Watch. There will be others like me.
Goodbye.
No-name, your cousin.