[AN: This is an old story that I wrote a while back, I found it and I decided I'm going to try to finish it...]
Some people look at this world only as a place of death, a place where peace will never be accomplished, a place of only anger and pain. Some people look at this world as a place where peace can be accomplished if we all work as one,giving and caring for each-other. I believe that peace can only be accomplished through fear. That the only way we can get people to do what we want is by frightening them into it. That is what I believe.
My name is Areku Idōkurēn,
And this is my story.
~~~
It all started about one year ago, six months before the Fourth Shinobi World-War. I was 19, a young Jonin from the Land of Stone . My hair was short, it went to my shoulders, and it was curly. Very, very curly. It was a dark, dark-red, so dark-red, that some people believed it to be purple. But it was not purple. It was red. My eyes were a nice turquoise colour, and I was fairly proud of their shade. I was short for my age, around 5 feet-3 inches. But I didn't mind.
Enough of what I looked like, though, let us start my tale.
I remember it well, it was a beautiful summer day, and I was training in the mountain region-when I was attacked. To this day, I still do not know who exactly had attacked me, all I know was that it was an Akatsuki spy. Back then I knew little about the Akatsuki, only that they were all notorious murderers.
He threw a kunai-knife at me from behind, luckily I dodged it. He then landed in front of me. He wore a black cloak and a hood over his head, so I could not see his face. He held a sword within his hands and charged at me, ready to attack, I blocked it with my own kunai-knife, and the battle went on. After a few minutes, he recoiled back from me, but I was still ready to fight. I made three hand-seals; boar, dragon, tiger-the seals to my specialty ninjutsu. I whipped my right-hand out to the side of my body, and created a ball of fire in palm. People have often compared my jutsu to a 'fire-style version of the Rasengan', but it is nothing like the Rasengan. It is meant to deeply burn, maybe even set the target on fire if used correctly, not to send it spinning like a silly pinwheel. I charged at him, aiming at his stomach-a direct hit. My jutsu affected him quickly, burning almost all of his torso and knocking him to the ground. He did not make a sound, he lay where he fell, motionless. I had never killed anyone before that moment, not once. I stood in shock, denying the fact that he was dead.
"Wonderfully done." a deep voice suddenly said.
I flinched and turned to see a man standing right behind me. He wore a white mask that looked somewhat like the Uchiha Clan's Sharingon, and a black cloak-the very cloak that I could recognize as the Akatsuki cloak. I readied myself with a kunai-knife at hand. "Do not worry," he said in a somewhat-soothing voice, "I will not hurt you." I lowered my kunai a bit. "There we go." he said. "Who are you?" I questioned, though it seems rather odd to ask a masked-man who-he-is, I did not think any of it at the time. "I do not have a specific name anymore, but you may call me Tobi." He turned his head to the dead body, "That was fairly impressive, what you did there." I quickly turned to the body, then slowly back at him, "But, I killed him..." I whispered, slowly looking into his mask. "Yes," he replied, still looking at the body, "But sometimes the only way to make peace is by first making war."
'Sometimes the only way to make peace is by first making war.' Those were the exact words that would change my life forever.