Disclaimer : well, you know the drill. I'd molest Kakashi everyday if he
were mine ;)
Notes : This is my first try at Naruto fanfiction. I'm trying to write in a differently than usual. Usually I wrote long chapters, now I'm trying to write in short ones. I dunno whether it works or not. Therefore, please kindly spare your time to give me c&c's ... oh, and by the way, the Kakasaku part will be a bit later in this fic . Hope you enjoy it, guys !
Talking Death A Naruto Fanfiction.
'How do death feel like?'
A boy, with a strange grayish hair, wondered as his eyes stared blankly at the stone memorial erected in front of him.
Was it cold and dark?
Was it hollow and empty?
Was it deafeningly quiet?
Was it the way how he felt now?
How many days had it been, that the newly engraved lines of names were added to the memorial?
How many days, had he been religiously, devotingly sat in front of the cold memorial, thinking about those he called his family, thinking about his life before that fateful day, wondering about death, and whether he should experience it soon or not.
His eyes traced the names there longingly.
Takeyama Obito. His closest friend. His first rival. His prank partner. His sparring partner. The closest person he could have for a brother he had never had.
Murasaki Kayo. Sweet, gentle, scarily smart Kayo. The one who always fussed over him and Obito. The one who always fussed about the team members well being. Who always knew what to say when he was feeling down and lonely.
And...
And...
Yondaime.
Yondaime-sama. Yondaime-sensei. His sensei. The one he always looked up to. The one with tremendous ninja skill, but blessed with gentle heart. Who had always put up with him. Who had taken him in and sheltered him when his parents had been killed in a mission.
His precious persons.
His prescious family.
All dead.
He wanted so badly to go with them. But how?
He couldn't commit suicide. He had made a pact with Obito that when they died, their names would be engraved on the memorial.
And Yondaime-sensei said that a man wouldn't go against his own words.
Maybe he would just take as much mission he could possibly take. If death didn't want to come near him, then he would chase death.
Would they miss him?
He already missed them so much. He was so much at a loss what to do. He felt like he no longer had control of his life, everything in his life, everything that he had built so carefully during his short time living in this world seemed to start crumbling.
It wasn't that there were no other people gracing his life. There were, and he was thankful for that. But... it was only those three people that felt real to him.
He felt like he was in this perpetual darkness, where he was all alone and where the silence was making him crazy.
He felt like he wanted to cry. But of course, he didn't cry.
"It's okay to cry", he remembered his sensei had told him. "It won't make you any less a man".
But the tears didn't come.
They only slid down his pale cheeks quietly, like pearly shreds of glass that reflected the dying sun, during the burial ceremony of his team, a silent testimonial to the deep grief he felt.
He felt his eyes burning. They stung.
It must be his new eye.
His fingers gently touch the still tender skin near his newly planted eye.
It had been almost a week ago... and it still hurt like a bitch.
Notes : This is my first try at Naruto fanfiction. I'm trying to write in a differently than usual. Usually I wrote long chapters, now I'm trying to write in short ones. I dunno whether it works or not. Therefore, please kindly spare your time to give me c&c's ... oh, and by the way, the Kakasaku part will be a bit later in this fic . Hope you enjoy it, guys !
Talking Death A Naruto Fanfiction.
'How do death feel like?'
A boy, with a strange grayish hair, wondered as his eyes stared blankly at the stone memorial erected in front of him.
Was it cold and dark?
Was it hollow and empty?
Was it deafeningly quiet?
Was it the way how he felt now?
How many days had it been, that the newly engraved lines of names were added to the memorial?
How many days, had he been religiously, devotingly sat in front of the cold memorial, thinking about those he called his family, thinking about his life before that fateful day, wondering about death, and whether he should experience it soon or not.
His eyes traced the names there longingly.
Takeyama Obito. His closest friend. His first rival. His prank partner. His sparring partner. The closest person he could have for a brother he had never had.
Murasaki Kayo. Sweet, gentle, scarily smart Kayo. The one who always fussed over him and Obito. The one who always fussed about the team members well being. Who always knew what to say when he was feeling down and lonely.
And...
And...
Yondaime.
Yondaime-sama. Yondaime-sensei. His sensei. The one he always looked up to. The one with tremendous ninja skill, but blessed with gentle heart. Who had always put up with him. Who had taken him in and sheltered him when his parents had been killed in a mission.
His precious persons.
His prescious family.
All dead.
He wanted so badly to go with them. But how?
He couldn't commit suicide. He had made a pact with Obito that when they died, their names would be engraved on the memorial.
And Yondaime-sensei said that a man wouldn't go against his own words.
Maybe he would just take as much mission he could possibly take. If death didn't want to come near him, then he would chase death.
Would they miss him?
He already missed them so much. He was so much at a loss what to do. He felt like he no longer had control of his life, everything in his life, everything that he had built so carefully during his short time living in this world seemed to start crumbling.
It wasn't that there were no other people gracing his life. There were, and he was thankful for that. But... it was only those three people that felt real to him.
He felt like he was in this perpetual darkness, where he was all alone and where the silence was making him crazy.
He felt like he wanted to cry. But of course, he didn't cry.
"It's okay to cry", he remembered his sensei had told him. "It won't make you any less a man".
But the tears didn't come.
They only slid down his pale cheeks quietly, like pearly shreds of glass that reflected the dying sun, during the burial ceremony of his team, a silent testimonial to the deep grief he felt.
He felt his eyes burning. They stung.
It must be his new eye.
His fingers gently touch the still tender skin near his newly planted eye.
It had been almost a week ago... and it still hurt like a bitch.