Hiruzen "The Professor" Sarutobi had thought he was done, that if there was a bottom to misery, he had long reached it. That there existed one final layer of sorrow for him to explore was a genuine and unwelcome surprise, one that distinctly ripped off a part of his soul, never to give it back.

His slow descent began, thirteen or so years ago, when he saw his successor give his soul to the Shinigami in order to trap the Kyuubi in the coils of his own newborn son. Hiruzen fell further when news reached him that his wife Biwako had succumbed to a knife wound, and not the sharp claws of the Kyuubi. When the shinobi of Konoha unanimously decided he had to take the Hat of the Hokage once more, he knew that he would only dig downwards from here on but underestimated how much. No suffering, then, had been greater than his.

Hiruzen cursed the fates thrice when - merely three years after the Kyuubi incident - he had to sell one of his men to Kumogakure after a dishonourable play on their part. Konohagakure was too weak and he was too tired for war, hence why he could not risk the future of the village by starting one. The life of a single man was a fair exchange to preserve peace, to save countless from the horrors of war, for the good of the many. He failed to realize it then but this single act redefined his fall into a spiralling crash.

He should have known something was wrong with him when his reflection became repulsive.

Hiruzen turned a blind eye when a man he thought of as a friend revealed Naruto's identity as the living jail of the Kyubi. It was a hair-brained scheme supposed to foster unity amidst a floundering Konohagakure by giving them a black sheep to focus on. It was through the Will of Fire that the villagers were supposed to endure and triumph over the challenges of Life, not through hate. Hiruzen trusted - convinced himself - that the village he loved and protected would honour the philosophy of the founding fathers.

He should have known something was wrong with him when the statement tasted curiously like ash in his mouth.

In the heart of every man, however, hides a weakness that preys on that man's fears. The villagers chose to hate the boy in lieu of celebrating him as their protector. As for Hiruzen, he had already paved the road to the bottom of his well of damnation by himself.

He could clearly remember the day he weighed the happiness of a single little boy who should have been a hero against the cowardice and ignorance of the faceless mass of villagers who betrayed the Will of Fire. Hiruzen remembered the moment he found that in order to preserve peace - of the village and of his mind - the single little boy wouldn't be happy. He trusted - convinced himself - that the village he loved and protected would stop being foolish before soon. And after all, Naruto had already been sacrificed once; what was one more time? At least, Hiruzen wasn't turning him into a tool, never mind the fact he started feeding the boy with promises of fame and esteem if he became a shinobi.

He should have known something was wrong with him when he didn't dare think of what his mentors would say, had they been alive.

The heart of a child, meanwhile, is like clay and is easily moulded by the sentiments of others. The sunny, bright boy slowly turned into a mockery of what he should have been. As for Hiruzen, he feared what it could lead to and knew something had to be done.

He could fully recall the day he balanced the hate of a single little boy, who was more than owed it, against the safety of the faceless mass of villagers who still were betraying the Will of Fire and deserved none of what Konoha offered them. Hiruzen recalled the instant he found that in order to save countless - the villagers and himself - from the horrors of the Kyuubi, the single little boy couldn't be owed his hate. Hiruzen trusted - convinced himself - that the village he loved and protected would be loved and protected by the boy too. And after all, Naruto had already been sacrificed twice; what was one more time? At least, Hiruzen wasn't turning him into a dog, never mind the fact he started feeding the boy with promises of acknowledgement if he behaved.

He should have known something was wrong with him when he couldn't hold his grandson, Konohamaru, without feeling the fist of guilt crushing his chest.

The mind of a child, above all else, is incredible in its capacity to adapt, fold and twist to survive its environment. The hateful, angry boy slowly turned into a clown, all elaborate smiles and affected idiocy. As for Hiruzen, he saw through it and decided it wasn't enough.

He could see himself perfectly as he compared the lie that a single little boy was telling to himself and others in order to survive the cruelty of the world and the lie of a veteran shinobi who should have been strong enough to endure reality as it truly was. Hiruzen saw himself as he found that for the good of the many - the villagers' and his own - the single little boy wouldn't be allowed his lie and should replace it with one deemed as more appropriate. Hiruzen trusted - convinced himself - that the village he loved and protected would survive. And after all, Naruto had already been sacrificed thrice, what was one more time? At least, Hiruzen wasn't turning him into a drone, never mind the fact he started feeding the boy the creed of the Will of Fire, fully expecting him to adopt it.

He should have known something was wrong with him when he couldn't bear anymore to look at the hieratic faces of his predecessors and successors, carved above the Hokage Tower.

Then, Naruto betrayed his village, his hitai-ate, his Hokage - betrayed, really? - and Hiruzen came to know that the web of lies he had kept on telling himself were hiding a maw of darkness. Right now, no suffering was greater than his. Ironically, he found that, for the first time in thirteen years, he was now seeing clearly.

Hiruzen loathed Konohagakure, her pissant civilians, her cowardly shinobi and all those he called his precious "family". They had betrayed him and all that he stood for, spat on the blood he had spilt, on the years he had given, on the love of his children he had forgone. The one time they had been asked to endure and go beyond their pain, the one time they had been tasked with upholding the Will of Fire in their hearts, they had failed. They had betrayed his service, his sacrifices, his ideals. Not that it should have surprised him: they had already proven to be cotton candy when the White Wolf had chosen intangible beliefs over hard gold. This village he loved and protected? He hated it, hated its weakness that corrupted the pure and turned the braves into cowards. He loathed the crimson Hat and the white Robes that weighed him like chains. He loathed the station of Hokage. He loathed himself.

Hiruzen had perverted his duty, twisted his Will of Fire, sacrificed the "King" of the only important game of shogi that matters. Konohagakure had been founded to protect her flocks from the violence of the world, to preserve them from fear and hate and he hadn't even been able to uphold this most fundamental truth. That, more than anything else, hurt the worst.

As he looked over the village, at the slate and golden and crimson roofs melding with the jade and glass and teal of the canopy, his back turned on the severe carvings of the Hokage looming above him, their eyes smouldering with reproaches, Hiruzen found the final depth of his misery and it plunged him into a cold, infuriated, maddened frenzy.

He knew Naruto would not be found. The likelihood for such a thing to happen was too close to zero to reasonably entertain it. Jiraiya, as much as Hiruzen trusted him, wasn't as good at intelligence gathering as he liked to believe he was. He had chased after Orochimaru for years, after all, unable to pinpoint any solid hint as to his whereabouts and activities. Most importantly, the last probable sighting of Naruto was in a port city, meaning the boy had taken a boat. Whereto? Only the gods knew now.

However, as he considered the injury levied for all these years by the people who dwelled in the safety of the leafy sanctuary, Hiruzen decided that it had to be paid in full. No, Naruto wouldn't be found but he would be fully compensated, Hiruzen was going to make absolutely sure of that.

"Hound."

The faceless assassin parted from the shadows he was hidden in and kneeled.

"Bring me the head of Danzo Shimura."

Hiruzen would clean the house he had allowed to fall into disarray for so long, ending with himself. Konohagakure would remember her Will of Fire or die trying.

Once, there lived a man named Kakashi Hatake.

The story of Kakashi was one of suffering, as is the life of all those who walk the nindo. Whether Kakashi suffered more or less is up for debate but ultimately irrelevant; all shinobi bore the scars of what they had to endure. Everyone thinks that there's no greater suffering than what they had to live through anyways.

Kakashi's heart broke for the first time when he was five years old. Barely a boy, far from a man, he one day came home to the cooling body of his father, who had eviscerated himself in the veranda for a matter of honour. Kakashi kept three vivid memories out of this incident: the sound of the flies buzzing as they were colonizing the sprawled intestines of his father, the iron smell of blood as it dampened the tatami, irremediably destroying the high-quality mats and the sight of his father's glassy eyes still holding a look pleading for forgiveness.

The heart of a young child, however, is much like unbaked clay. It is easily malleable and can be moulded into anything. When Kakashi heard that the reason the Hatake name had been dragged in the mud of infamy for months was that his father had abandoned his mission, the boy naturally decided that his mission had to prime over everything else.

Following the rules strictly and thanks to his preternatural talents, Kakashi was quickly hailed as a prodigy and earned his hitai-ate at age seven, against every law the Shodai Hokage had promulgated. It was a time of war and the law dictated by ideals had to give way to necessity. Following the rules strictly and thanks to his preternatural talents, Kakashi accomplished every task he was given without fault and was sent to the frontlines at age eight, against every edict the Nidaime Hokage had published. It was a time of need and the compromise of peacetime couldn't be upheld. Following the rules strictly and thanks to his preternatural talents, Kakashi succeeded and survived to all his missions, climbing to the rank of chunin at age nine before being placed under the leadership of Minato Namikaze.

Minato was a young jounin gifted beyond even Kakashi, the student of Jiraiya of the Sannin, of world fame. It was said that Minato's Will of Fire burned brightly and at first, Kakashi hated the young man for it. After all, the Will of Fire was a curse, a lie, something that supposedly existed above the rules and which his father had given his life for. The pair, despite this difference, worked together splendidly for years, until Minato accepted the responsibility of two young, green chunin: Obito and Rin.

The heart of a young man, for Kakashi was still very much young, while harder than the clump of clay that is the heart of a young boy, is still highly flexible. As he lived, fought and survived alongside his team, Kakashi discovered, in the most remote recess of his soul, that there existed people he would betray the rules for.

Kakashi's heart broke for the second time when it warred against his reason for too long. The time it took him to follow his teammate Obito was the time necessary for disaster to strike and Obito to die. Kakashi kept two vivid memories of the incident: the sight of Obito pallid, clammy skin, of the boy's blood starkly contrasting against his lips as he strained to talk and the nerve-shattering sound of Rin's cries as their teammate died.

The two teens helped each other build themselves back. After sharing this loss, they progressively shared more and more of their interests, time, lips, body and soul. The war, however, wasn't over. And war is only defined by tragedy.

Kakashi's heart broke for the third time when the love of his life threw herself on the lightning blade of his Chidori Jutsu. She was condemned, trapped and turned into a ticking bomb by Kiri-nin, enemy shinobi. She knew it, Kakashi knew it. Still, he loathed her with all his might as she used him to die before she could bring disaster upon Konohagakure. He loathed himself as he killed his teammate, his friend, his lover and filled the gaping hole left in his chest with nothing but hate and hurt. Kakashi kept one vivid memory of the incident: the distinct feeling that the world was ending.

It was Minato and his wife, Kushina, who puzzled the fragments of his self back together and allowed him to live again, instead of going through the motions of life. The war ended when Minato demonstrated the full might of his favourite technique; when he ambushed a hundred Iwa-nin and slaughtered them in under a minute, leaving a single genin alive to bring the news back to his village. The armistice was promptly signed and Minato was crowned Yondaime Hokage.

Kakashi became Minato's personal ANBU guard, spending as much time with the Hokage as with Kushina, who Kakashi learned was the jinchuriki of the Kyuubi, the kekaijuu's human prison. A year passed, another followed; Kushina became with child and Kakashi, assigned to her protection, thought he was living again. He made plans concerning the soon-to-be-born Naruto, who would be his young brother, plans concerning his future as a shinobi of Konohagakure, plans concerning a young kunoichi named Anko who had a smile that reminded him of Rin.

Kakashi's heart broke for the fourth and final time when the Kyuubi escaped his chains, killing Minato, Kushina and condemning Naruto to the burden his mother had carried. Flooded by grief, choked by guilt, beside himself with pain, he saw his plans go up in ashes as he allowed himself to fade. There were no more tears for him to cry, no more sobs for him to holler, no further depths to the hell of his life. There was no one who cared enough to search for the pieces of his heart.

He survived through ANBU, seeking death at every turn and unable to find it, reduced to a puppet, a spectator of his own life as he left behind him a trail of bodies broken bloody. He remained passive, too dazed by the all-consuming sorrow of his loss to protest when the Sandaime ordered him to stay away from Naruto. He remained passive, too lost in the meanders of his bereavement to react to the growing mistreatment the child was the victim of. He remained passive, crushed, choked, pierced by the claws of his fear, his fear that he would be Naruto's end, and averted his eyes as the child drowned in hate, his only lifeline being a manipulative, delusional old man.

Kakashi Hatake eventually died, however. The Fates prize irony above all else as it was Naruto Uzumaki, the boy who should have been his brother, who dealt the blow Kakashi wouldn't survive.

There once lived a man named Kakashi Hatake. Today, all that is left of him is a rabid Hound, the hunting mastiff of the Hokage, a "Sekigen no rō" cursed to a legacy of blood and death.

As far as Sasuke Uchiha was concerned, life was a simple thing, bare of any complexity. Now, simple didn't necessarily mean easy, far from it but Sasuke Uchiha only strove for simple goals, always had and always would. The only thing that changed over the years were precisely those goals.

Back when he was nothing but an infant, a small sprout of a boy with dark eyes widened by wonder underneath the tuft of his black hair, barely weaned off the ties of his mother's apron, Sasuke enjoyed the love of his family. At the time, his father had been a gentle giant whose hands and voice were surprisingly soft. As for his brother, he had had the habit of hugging him frequently. Life had been simple, then, and everything had been right.

As he grew older, things changed. His mother became unable to pick him up with as much ease as she used to have, his father slowly turned into a distant and stern figure of authority and his brother into a source of inspiration. Everything remained right, though. It was during those times that Sasuke, as all the scions of his illustrious bloodline, walked his first step upon the way of the shinobi. Life was simple, still: he had to keep his mother's smile, impress his father and catch up to his brother. It wasn't necessarily easy but it was simple.

As he continued to grow older, his mother progressively lost her smile, his father appeared unmoved in spite of his constant progress and his brother distanced himself from him, not merely skills-wise but, more importantly, in life. That felt wrong but Sasuke knew that he only had to work harder. He had to endure the frustration. He had to show his family he loved them. Everything would be solved then. It wasn't necessarily easy but it was simple.

One night, without warning, Sasuke Uchiha lived through hell to tell the tale. His mother forever ceased to smile, his father would never acknowledge him and his brother turned into a monster. Life became painful and completely abnormal that night; however, it remained simple. Sasuke had to work harder than ever, until his knuckles bled and his lungs burned, endure the despair, claw his way out of the bottomless pit he would fall into every time he allowed himself to think and, most importantly, kill the monster. Everything would be solved then. It wasn't necessarily easy but it was simple.

He did not need friends, much less a girlfriend, not even a rival. The loneliness and the pain, Sasuke knew they were necessary to gain power. The monster had told him as such, that in the severance of bonds lay might. Hence why he would shoulder both weights for as long as he would need to in order to grow strong, strong enough to slay the assassin of his family. Then, the loneliness and the pain would leave him, the gaping hole in his chest would mend, the hurt would heal. Everything would be solved then. It wasn't necessarily easy but it was simple.

Those were the reasons Sasuke lived a frugal life. His goals were simple and suffered no distractions, no games, no plans; they were to be achieved alone. Those were the reasons Sasuke suffered no friends, no pity, no adoration and no rivalry.

He was not afraid; no, he wouldn't allow himself to feel such an emotion, wouldn't even admit to knowing it. Sasuke had no fear when awake. Only Lady Night, and the nightmares she brought with her, could stir up the glaucous sentiment, cause sickly sweat to trail down his spine and jerk him awake to his own choked screams. Only in his sleep could his mind conjure the fading visage of his dead parents and the holler of their vengeful ghosts each time he took a pause, the listless forms of nobodies, friends yet to be made, taken away by the monster, the blurred features of an unknown rival slaughtered by the blade only meant for one, in a mad play for a power so vile, so cursed, Sasuke refused to think about it.

Those nightmares meant he was weak and Sasuke abhorred weakness. Loneliness and pain would toughen him up and up until he became indestructible.

Above all this, however, Sasuke loathed complexity. Complexity meant time spent to unravel it and time not spent on reaching the necessary strength to achieve his goal was time ill-spent. That was why Sasuke loathed Naruto Uzumaki; his teammate - or ex-teammate, he supposed - ceaselessly made everything he touched complex.

Naruto hadn't been able to leave him alone during their younger years in the Academy; after Sasuke's reality had been turned into the nightmare of a mad man. Sasuke, who dismissed everything and everyone, had been unable to completely ignore the boy. Naruto was alone and in pain too, after all. Both of them still shared a similar hurt and bore similar scars.

Obviously, Sasuke was under no illusion that Naruto knew loneliness and pain to the extent that he himself had to endure; no one did, no one could, as no suffering was greater than the one that flailed Sasuke's flesh, spirit and soul. Whereas Sasuke had lost, Naruto never had anything; whereas Sasuke had to hate, Naruto had to be hated, whereas Sasuke sought death, Naruto sought love. That Naruto smiled in spite of everything obviously meant he had it easier than Sasuke, there was no doubt about that in the mind of the Uchiha.

That there was someone sufficiently similar to him, however, made everything more complex than it ought to be. Because Sasuke felt some form of kinship between him and Naruto - a kinship he could tell Naruto felt too - he was de facto less alone. Because the both of them constantly butted heads in the worst possible way, they ended up propping each other up and Sasuke was de facto less in pain. He should have been disgusted - and outwardly acted like it - as less loneliness and pain meant less power, as a bond, of any kind, meant a chain to weigh him down. He could never bring himself to truly feel that way. How could he, when each and every time his burden was lifted, even for a bit, he felt nothing but thankful relief?

How Naruto could remain so seemingly chipper, so apparently happy, so unquestioningly free was another question that obsessed Sasuke. Yes, it meant Sasuke's fate and burden were worse but it added another weight to the equation: jealousy. Beating him black and bloody, pulling his teeth one by one and skinning him alive wouldn't have been enough for the Uchiha to admit to it but he was jealous of Naruto. If they were so similar, if they shared the same suffering, then Naruto shouldn't have been happy. Sasuke was not, how could, how dare Naruto be? That was proof enough that no one knew of his hurt, not even Naruto, certainly not Naruto.

The proof lasted until it was revealed that it had been nothing but powder to the eyes and Naruto left. Instead of simplifying things, however, Sasuke found that everything had been made that much more complex.

The official story was that the first mission of team seven had failed, that their client had been assassinated and one of their teammates abducted. Sasuke had been floating between consciousness and unconsciousness at that point but he knew that Naruto had left with Zabuza and the nuke-nin's servant of his own volition. Sasuke didn't understand the need to hide the fact Naruto had simply found the sheer guts to desert but that was the tale the Hokage had woven and ordered them to repeat. This veil of mystery was only the beginning of the web of lies Naruto's defection had revealed.

First of all, Naruto had never been happy. His attitude, Sasuke realized it now, had merely been the boy's attempt at staving off loneliness and pain. Deprived, hated and seeking love, Naruto had fought relentlessly to establish some form of connections, those very bonds that Sasuke feared. He couldn't help but wonder how Naruto hadn't been afraid to become weighed and weak.

Secondly, he could only witness how whatever link Naruto had woven with Zabuza's servant had given his teammate the courage to do something Sasuke wouldn't have thought him capable of. Sasuke would have really liked to say Naruto had only been desperate, or better even, that he had found the strength to leave by severing some kind of bonds he had with his team but the Uchiha knew a lie when he saw one.

Naruto had always been spurned by everyone, his teammates included. Sakura behaved downright crass with the boy, their sensei Kakashi only seemed to care until he had to show it and Sasuke himself wouldn't pretend he had acknowledged Naruto. He had tolerated him - somewhat -, understood him- or so he had thought - but not acknowledged him.

Third and last, this questioned everything Sasuke believed he knew for certain. Might lay in the severance of bonds, not in the forging of them… and yet. Wasn't he driven, moved by the hate he carried for the monster? Wasn't that a bond of sorts? Hadn't Naruto been moved by his hate for the village when he had left? Or had his drive originated solely in whatever kinship he felt for Zabuza's accomplice? Maybe it was a mix of both?

In the dark corners of his mind, Sasuke Uchiha wondered if pain and loneliness were merely poisons inflicted on him by the monster with the intent to weaken him. As he looked at nothing, his legs gathered under his chin and his arms wrapped around them, plunged in the creaky obscurity of his old family house, he cursed Naruto Uzumaki for making his life so needlessly complex.

Sakura Haruno hated Konohagakure. She hadn't thought it would have ever been possible for her to hate her home, the village she was born into, the village where her entire family lived, the place she naturally loved. Konohagakure had changed since team seven - three out of four members, at least - had come back from their first C-rank - turned A-rank - mission.

That it took Naruto leaving for Sakura to acknowledge the shameful behaviour she had displayed towards the boy was a source of great dismay for the girl. That such behaviour had been ingrained in her since… ever - as far as she could remember, it originated back when they were kids having fun in the playgrounds - was another. It raked her with guilt, the same guilt she had felt clawing at her entire being after Sasuke had told her she was annoying, barely an hour after the formation of team seven.

She had run her mouth about Naruto, how he lacked manners, how he had no tact, how he was lucky that he didn't have any parents to enforce any rule. She had complained to an orphan about how another orphan was lucky - lucky - not to have any parents. Sasuke, rightly, had torn through her.

She didn't need a lot of investigation to discover that, for whatever reason, she hadn't been alone in her treatment of Naruto. It had just been normal. From parents - not only hers - to teachers to passers-by in the street, everyone saw Naruto as lesser, something rather than someone. What could he ever have committed to deserve such treatment? Sakura did not know. It wasn't about his pranks: she had been told to "stay away from that boy" long, long before Naruto had ever contemplated his first-ever bout of mischief.

She didn't need a lot of introspection either to decide that it was wrong. It created a rift, a rift between her and her parents, her and her friends, her and herself. Sakura had always thought she was a clever girl but she had been raised to be a good girl. It made sense to her. Everyone wanted to be nice, friendly and good, after all. Well, almost everyone. No one desired to inflict pain, be unjust or be mean to others. What was right - and wrong - were firmly implanted in her mind and being in the right was, well, right. There was no pleasure, nothing to gain, nothing worth being in the wrong.

Why was it right, then, to treat a boy her age who couldn't have ever done anything wrong with the same disdain one would have for the worst criminal? Sakura couldn't answer that question and it drove her mad. When no one she knew could answer, either coming to the same realization as her or simply refusing to provide a response, Sakura's view of Konohagakure changed irremediably.

The place that had been a haven of unquestioned, evident, absolute good now bore this stain on her previously pristine gown of righteousness.

That was not the only reason Sakura hated her home. The village itself had changed after Naruto's defection. The Hokage had addressed Konohagakure, his grandfatherly smile nowhere to be seen. He talked about "a certain law" that Sakura knew nothing about and how its spirit had been flouted by the vast majority of the citizens, shinobi included. He warned everyone who knew about the law that it was time to pay for its transgression.

Fear had been permeating the atmosphere since then; It hung low much like storm clouds, clung to the skin much like clammy warmth. Many villagers kept their heads tucked in-between their shoulders, their eyes nervously darting to and fro, their backs arched by shame. Then, the public punishment began.

There were only a few but Sakura bore witness to all of them, not out of choice, she had been forced to. People were led by faceless shinobi - donning eerie blank masks - to the square in front of the Hokage Tower. Civilians had the kanji for "crime" imprinted on their forehead somehow and their heads shaved - no distinction between men and women was made here - so that the word was clearly visible to all. Ninja had the red swirl emblazoned in their flak jacket or on the left shoulder pad torn off and replaced with the kanji for "betrayal".

The Hokage gave the many who weren't marked a single order. They were to hate, revile, and discriminate against the few who had been condemned. They were to act as if they shouldn't - didn't - exist or suffer even dire consequences.

Some people protested; they were ruthlessly evicted, ousted from Konohagakure with only their clothes on their backs, their possessions confiscated by the Hokage, "for the good of the village". And Sakura saw people bend the spine. She saw the guilt under which they all sagged. She saw the disgusting hypocrisy of the men and women of her home as those who hadn't been marked obeyed the Hokage, relieved they hadn't been chosen yet knowing full well they were guilty of the same crime as those who had been.

For all of this, Sakura hated Konohagakure.

AN: This chapter marks the end of the first part of "Monsters in the Mist". If parts of this chapter made you want to break someone's face, then the mission was accomplished. I've no idea when the second part of "Monsters in the Mist" will begin. Stay tuned and leave a review.