He could still feel the blood on his face.
Each drop brought warmth and stickiness with it.
Each drop also brought pain.
And fear.
He remembered running for his life, seeing people around him do the same, their faces red with determination, so alive one moment;
Crack
And so still the next.
...
He remembers feeling so alone.
So lost.
He remembers everything.
That's the thing isn't it?
You just can't forget these things.
And he never did.
"
I s a n y b o d y t h e r e?
Canyouhearme?
C a n' t y o u h e a r m e?
"
Dear God, if you're there, please, get me the fuck out of this place.
P l e a s e d o n' t k i l l m e.
~OPERATION SHINOBI: EMOTION CONTAINERS~
C h a p t e r 2 : T h e H e r o' s F a i l u r e .
His adolescent years were a blur.
There were hazy patches of green and laughter permanently drilled into his mind. So those were his memories before the war.
Green.
And laughter.
Funny how the whole concept of peace can be summed up into two words. Two very simple words.
Peace was not simple, but neither was war.
He was not a simple boy.
He was 'General Minato's boy', the blond, whiskered, smiley baby who was set on a journey to follow his father's rather impossible footsteps the moment he entered the world.
But when his father got blown up, as pieces of the once perfect man lay scattered upon the blood soaked earth, the hopes of millions broke apart with him.
They turned to the last remaining option, and turned the blond boy into their scapegoat. Who-ever-his-name-was, was to lead, was to save the war. The four year old must step-up and take his place amongst the gods and bring them the peace they've searched so hungrily for.
...
And then he was Hero's Failure. Simply because he had not achieved what was intended of him. Simply because he merely did what other children his age were supposed to do during war.
Absolutely nothing.
But to a small number of people, he was Uzumaki Naruto, the boy who never gives up. These people believed in him, they truly believed he would lead them to their victory using his own path. They believed he would not be only a Hero's Son, but a Hero to his own right.
He watched them die as he hid in a broom cupboard, doing what he does best.
Nothing.
...
It was a Monday.
It was in the afternoon, during break.
It was in school. The only place that was not supposed to be a war-zone.
It was a boy in a mask who brought with him five M2 Machine Guns, a boy barely old enough to drive.
It was all the people he had ever cared about, gone with the pull of a trigger.
It was almost two, and a blond boy sat on a wobbly stool in the middle of the makeshift cafeteria. Yes, there was war going on, but even that wouldn't be able to stop the determined hold of education. Naruto sighed as he turned his stool around, and around, and around.
He hated school.
He did love, however, the people he got to meet in school.
Thinking just wasn't his thing. He preferred to solve his problems with his fists, not his brains.
He patted his hair down, trying to make it lay flat.
It began with a huge 'crack', and for an eternity, silence fell over each and everyone in the tiny school.
Then Naruto saw Tameyoshi Akamatsu staggering towards him. Tameyoshi; who had taken up two part-time jobs to help his father keep food on the table, Tameyoshi; who always took the time to flash Naruto a smile when he was feeling down. Tameyoshi; the blue-eyed, twelve year old boy who adored his baby sister.
He saw Tameyoshi with blood oozing from his chest, fall to the ground.
He never got up again.
Then, all hell-broke loose.
Children were running for cover, screams of terror erupting everywhere. Occasionally a loud crack could be heard over all the noise; bringing with it the whisper of a horrifying thump as cold, still bodies hit the ground in a broken heap.
...
CRACK
Naruto saw 14 year old Namie; the girl with all the right answers, fall, face first. Her expression was frozen, she was dead before she hit the ground, she didn't even have time to close her eyes.
...
CRACK
Akaike, 10, knelt before her twin brother, tears and snot running down her blood splattered face, she was screaming, begging him to open his eyes. Naruto shut his eyes tight as her chest exploded with blood, and before she knew it, she was reunited with her twin in eternity.
...
CRACK
The school janitor who had come out of a tiny classroom to see what the noise was about, fell to his knees with the pull of a trigger. The school janitor, who had three kids and a wife.
...
CRACK
Ichigo, 9 years old. He stopped his mad dash for survival to help drag an injured friend out of the way. Ichigo, who dreamt of being a hero, who died fulfilling that dream.
...
CRACK
Naruto had to dive for cover as Fujimaro's head exploded, splattering the hallway with blood. He was fifteen.
...
CRACK
CRACK
CRACK
...
Naruto had run faster than he ever had in his life.
He hid in a small broom cupboard right in the middle of the hallway. He could hear the shooter enter classrooms, filled with terrified students. He could hear the sounds of souls ripped away from bodies with each pull of the trigger.
Then, there was the loudest silence he had ever heard.
It lasted for an eternity.
It hung over him, like a veil. Concealing the horrors that had just unfolded before his very eyes. Then, suddenly, there were cries for help.
Wonderful, loud, alive, cries.
He remembered then, tearing open the cupboard door and puling a person inside with him. He didn't care who it was at the moment, he just wanted someone to hold, someone to share this moment in his life with. He wanted to gain something out of this.
He needed to make sure at least one person came out alive.
Said person, was a frail, pale, tear-stricken girl. She had short, blue-black hair, that stuck up in clumps where blood had hit. Her eyes were wide and wet, and lovely lavender.
He held her as she cried, and she held him. She was so unbelievably soft, and warm, and Naruto wished they could lay there forever, a tangle of scarred, blood splattered limbs and tears.
It would be 5 hours before they were found.
It would be 3 days before Naruto could fully scrub himself clean of the stench of dry blood.
It would be 6 months before each and every piece of human flesh and bones, would be sorted out and sent back to their respective families.
It would be an eternity before Naruto would be able to forget.
...
But according to Lady Tsunade, the Surgeon General of The Japanese Army, he would forget about it very, very soon, with the help of the Counselors.
"It will pass Naruto, you'll see."
"Shut the fuck up with the crap, Granny Tsunade! We're just kids!"
And that's why Naruto, and the rest of the Survivors were given their own division and training program.
They were split into groups of three, each cell leaded by a ANBU Corp Officer.
The logic here being that if these 30 children can survive a raw, school shoot-out, they'd be able to fight in the Third World War.
And thus, Uzumaki Naruto was now a pig well fed and well groomed, raised for slaughter.
But so were Haruno Sakura and Uchiha Sasuke, the two children who got stuck in the same three-man cell as Uzumaki Naruto. The two children who taught Naruto once again, that it is dangerous to love, to care for others.
The two children who pretended to be dead, who laid still, beneath the corpses of their friends and classmates to survive.
The two children who functioned as one body, the two who seemed so attached to each other, it made Naruto green with envy.
The two children that Naruto loved and yet hated, envied and yet admired, the two children who helped him feel once again.
If you feel, you get hurt.
Rule 23# A soldier must never show his feelings.
Ever.
...
Naruto never was good at following rules anyway.
You better run, better run, faster than my gun.
