Stone Cold

Note from the author to you, the kindly reader: Thank you very much for being interested enough to visit this story. All standard disclaimers apply. While this story is mostly comprised of original characters, you won't find a long lost living member of the uchiha's or other such trite plotlines. Rated so for the language. Naoki has a, how do you say, a potty mouth. This is the scrivener, over and out.

This is the story of a person to whom odd and peculiar things have happened. Lean in close, because he wants to tell you a story. And forgive him; he's not the best of narrators.

Nakashima Naoki was mad. >Scratch that, he was beyond mad. He was livid. He left the village to its own resources for all of twenty minutes, and already it's been razed. Razed! It was burned to the ground, ransacked, every able bodied man killed and the women and children missing. Although, upon reflection, Naoki decided it likely didn't happen in that order. He also briefly considered that most, upon discovering their home town destroyed, wouldn't be angry at the villagers. He supposed that they didn't raze their own town. They must have been asking for it though, because it happened. He supposed it was inevitable; they were a small town near the border of an enemy nation. That and the Iwa shiobi head person wasn't up to sharing his ninjas to protect the people who sent their children, nieces, nephews, and siblings to his school. The bastard.

Naoki hissed when the stench of the recently burned village wafted into his nose. Heavy and sickening it was as there was no wind to blow it away. So it hung and filled up his nose, coating his tongue, and making him gag as it coiled into his lungs. He covered his sensitive nose with one of his overlarge sleeves, while patting himself on the back for wearing this particular shirt today. It was his favorite, and the rest of his clothes had likely burned with the town. And he really didn't want to investigate; the smell of burned silk was almost as sickening as the smell of burned human flesh.

His eyesight was decent, well enough to see that the there would not likely be a living soul left. He easily counted twenty bodies lining the main road into town. And judging on the burned state of the houses and buildings, anyone left inside would have died. At least they could have suffocated before they burned. He hoped they suffocated before they burned. Fire was one of the worst ways to go, in his mind. He felt a twinge of guilt. These folks had been his neighbors, teachers, friends and comrades while he grew up. He'd never been terribly close to them, preferring to stick to his mother's side. After her death, he shut them out even more. They had no right poking into his life. They nosed around and once he caught them going through her affects. He'd never forgive them for that. Never.

"Oh," Naoki heard. It was spoken so softly that he could barely hear it. He didn't need to turn to know who it was. Watanabe Eiji had left the village with him earlier to gather some herbs. While herb gathering was generally woman's work, everyone agreed that Naoki did it best. But they agreed that about everything he set out to do, so Naoki placed little concern on what they thought. "Oh…" Eiji-kun began again. Naoki still didn't want look over at the boy, seeing how pitiful he probably looked (if his tone was any indication) would put a serious damper on his rage. And justified anger was so hard to come by. It should be savored while it lasted. "…no." The boy managed to breathe out at last. That was forgivable; every townsman knew the boy was slow in the head. Damn it. The all consuming anger he felt slowly bled away. And it was all the boy's fault! He had to be a quivering mess of dim-witted, wasted human flesh. Naoki could see him in his peripheral, shaking from head to toe, his hands tearing and rending grass. The dimwit's mind struggling to understand and failing as usual. Deciding to cut the boy some slack, he conceded that most minds wouldn't cope when confronted with this kind of catastrophe. What was it? Ah yes, denial. Supposedly the first stage. Naoki really didn't want to stay and baby the kid through the rest of the system.

It was surprisingly easy to turn away from the carnage. He liked an accident as much as the next fellow, but he found he didn't have the stomach for staring at a senseless massacre for long periods of time. Which he figured was a good thing. After all, he wasn't a shinobi. The thought of shinobis returned his smoldering anger to its blaze. The good for naughts were never where you needed them. Lurking in the shadows, they never help in less the money has already been transferred. The problem is, you need shinobi to protect against other shinobi, or bandits. Because everyone who should have stayed to protect the villages and towns are off in the hidden place learning to be a shinobi! Naoki smiled; quite happy to have found a good rant. That's what this day has been lacking, a good rant.

What the day hasn't been lacking in was annoying followers. Eiji seemed to have noticed Naoki's stealthy retreat. (Or not so stealthy, he winced in remembrance. He might have been idly kicking a stone around while walking. Just might.) Being the idiot that he was, the boy had followed. Just like a kicked puppy. Mmmm…there's a pleasant thought. But causing injury to helpless animals aside, the boy was still trailing after him. What did he think he was doing?

Deciding to ignore Eiji, Naoki continued on. He had not been properly outside the village before. Like most of Earth country was said to be, his village was nestled in the side of a mountain. It was fairly secluded, mostly extended family lived there. Family married family and those like Eiji came after several generations of this. Naoki considered himself lucky to not be related to most of the village. Or, that he hadn't been related to the rest of the now dead village. Whereas the village idiot behind him could claim most of the villagers as first cousins or closer. Maybe that was just a bit of an exaggeration. But the concept was the same. Either way, you never wandered off. You never left home to seek a better life. Unless you were chosen for shinobi school.

Which was another deal altogether. After the last great war (against fire country if he remembered right, funny that the village still didn't believe that it had happened…it hadn't really affected their self sustaining lifestyle) the Iwa shinobi head guy, ahhh what did they call him? Tsukikage or something..anyway he instituted a sort of a draft. He sent out evaluators to the country sides to find children who had whatever potential was needed for shinobiness. Kakre or something. Some left that way. His mother had always managed to take him on an outing when the scouts were coming. So he'd never actually seen the selection process.

He wasn't a romantic by any stretch of the imagination, but even he couldn't help but admire the untouched wilderness around him. The path approached a shear cliff, which Naoki had to admit that it was an amazing view. He could see the tops of mountains, a sky that seemed to go on forever, with a river winding far below. The air seemed cleaner, the dirt healthier, the streams ran clearer, and that damn boy was still following him! Eiji was creating quite the ruckus as he tried to navigate the steep switchbacks that winded down the sides of the cliff. His footing was poor because he left his home this morning barefoot as always. He had to step carefully and, being the clumsy fool he was, sending stone and dirt everywhere. Naoki silently swore that if the boy dirtied his last shirt, his favorite shirt, then there would be hell to pay.

The boy yelped in fear. Naoki barely managed to turn around in time to see the boy misstep and begin a fatal slide off the narrow path. His breath caught in his throat. It was one thing to find all your neighbors dead. It was a whole 'nother thing to watch someone you know fall to their death in front of you. Without even thinking, he was moving. He managed to grab onto the trailing sleeves as the boy pin wheeled his arms trying to catch his balance. Thankfully, the boy was lighter that he looked. Somehow his plump form and large bone structure wasn't too heavy for whisper thin Naoki to pull to safety. After much gasping of breath on both their parts and an odd sort of keening noise from Eiji, Naoki finally spoke up.

"Well, that was close." Not exactly the height of wit, but it was what came to mind. Plus, it was true. It had been terribly close. As much as he didn't want the boy following him, he wouldn't wish falling to a terrible death on the boy. He could think of a few people who he would wish it on, but not Eiji. Soon, they began their decent again. Eiji nearly fell at least two other times before Naoki decided to give up his own shoes with the sturdy soles to the boy. Despite the age difference, the shoes fit the younger boy well. His hands and feet were oafishly large, making his limbs even clumsier than his mind at times.

So they continued, not really knowing where they were headed to. Well, technically, the road went to the next village. Naoki really didn't want to end up there. Rumor has it that they weren't well off. They lived off the trade that came through the area. A good idea if there was a call for trade. Which there wasn't as all the other surrounding villages were self sustaining. So those passing through told that the village one over was in dire straits, desperate even. Not really the place for unskilled workers like himself and Eiji.

Speaking of the boy, he clung closely to Naoki. One hand clasped tightly around a wad of his shirt, as if he suddenly expected the older boy to disappear into the valley mists. It was terribly inconvenient. Naoki lost count of how many times the boy had walked into him, nearly tripping them both up. He wasn't worried about the clumsy oaf falling off the cliff anymore. What was left of the cliff at this point was five meters and the trial was significantly wider. The sun was sinking to their left just passing over the peak of the cliff. The valley would soon be engulfed in shadows. Already a mist was creeping up between the trees and coiling around trunks.

It was almost dark.

"We'll camp here." Naoki spoke up. His voice broke the stillness of the twilight. Even the mist seemed to draw back in shock. A quick survey found a sturdy old tree in which to sleep, so they'd be high above the ground and away from hungry predators' reach. A lower branch was wide enough to easily allow the oaf to sleep in peace, while Naoki would take one higher up. After this decision, he sighed deeply and said, "Okay, Eiji, you take that branch and I'll sleep there."

Naoki was halfway up the tree before he realized that Eiji hadn't moved. He growled in frustration, ready to leave the boy to eaten by wild animals. It would certainly make his life easier. He gripped the branches tightly, the rough bark digging into the soft palms of his hands. Hands that never had to do a man's day of work. Naoki stared down at Eiji, seriously considering leaving the boy behind. Maybe the fool realized this, because Eiji solemnly gazed into Naoki's eyes. The impasse lasted several minutes, just enough time for the last bit of light to vanish. With a bit of effort, Naoki climbed down the tree. He cursed his weak heart. There it goes again, bleeding all over the place. A branch cut into the soft skin of his wrist and Naoki let go in surprise. He fell the last twenty feet.

Shit fuck.

We'll take a break for a bit from here; Naoki seems to be not so fondly reliving the pain. I hope you can follow his words, for his story is one worth wading through. Its intermission time, cookies and refreshments are available in the lobby behind you. But could you leave a review in the purple box below and to your left on your way out? Thanks, we'll reconvene in a few.