ODES OF THE BETRAYED by Kage Kurokawa
Prologue: Of Blood and Fire
A cloaked figure ran through the wooded hills far into the night. The scent of fear in the still nighttime air hung heavily that one could almost smell it. Heavy breathing can be heard amid the soft sounds of the nocturnal creatures lurking in the forest. Small twigs and dried leaves were crushed among quick yet heavy treads. Wearied legs unwillingly carry their equally tired owner as fast as they are able to… Just beyond the border, the figure thought… just over the wall of bamboos that marked the end of this god forsaken lands… and maybe then he could be free…
Maybe.
He could vaguely see a small clearing just before him…he recognized it. Or so he thought. He'd been there before. Or had he? If only he could a light a fire. But it's much too dangerous. Scarcely three nights ago, he had rested on a root of one of the large trees by a warm fire on a similar surrounding. At that time, the clearing looked so inviting beneath a full moon. A good place to rest and watch the stars, before letting sleep claim his weary form. But now, it seemed to remind him of the terrible danger that he is in. It is a moonless and starless night. The black sky above him blanketed the world like a bottomless dark abyss. The small open area before him all of a sudden seemed like a prison walled by the tall, thick trees that almost looked impenetrable.
He was running blind. But he knew he could not stop to take a breather. His pursuers seemed to have eyes in the dark. Only a few hours more and he'll be safe…that's what he tells himself repeatedly. A few hours more…
Or so he prayed.
He had known it was a mistake. As soon as he opened that scroll, his instincts screamed at him that he was going to his doom. But he had not been given any choice. All of them were not. Still, they had what they came for. His hands tightened their grip on the wrapped box that he's holding.
All he had to do now was to hang on and live. His two comrades had been killed the night before trying to buy him some time. And although he had seen much in his life, he could not remember anything so brutal and gruesome as the one he was forced to witness.
His pursuers are monsters, that's what they are… there are no other words to describe them.
And... Him…
'HE' is alive! May all the deities have mercy on his people! He had to warn them that the demon from their nightmares still lives. He dare not think about what might happen if…
He prays fervently that he might make it out. He is running for his life like a deer who is trying to escape a lion's den. All he could think of was getting out of this place and survive… See his beloved wife… his two little kids…he must warn them…
He wanted to live.
It was not to be his fate…
"Must you always play with your food?" an exasperated, tall, lean form clad in black and blue asked. His gaze fell to the figure sprawled in front of him. They had been tracking down this man for about a while and had him on their range for hours, before they finally took pity on him. There was blood all over the place. Blue eyes flickered for a bit with what seemed like pity before turning back to his companion with a blank look.
"It's been a while since I've had a bit of fun…" cold, ice green eyes stared back unblinkingly wiping the blood on his face with a gloveless hand. He was dressed in black mixed with the darkest shade of red. And he calmly sat down in the sea of blood and licked the crimson liquid that ran down his fingers. He looked like an angel of death reveling in his first kill… it was enchanting, in a twisted sort of way. "He wasn't very fun to kill."
"Must you do that?" his companion asked with a scolding tone. "That stain will be hard to get rid of you know."
"You do not wash my clothes." Was the quiet reply. Another sigh was heard.
"Are we done here?" Interrupted a voice from a third party who was perched lazily on a thick branch at a tree close by. Clad in black and dark gray, he watched his team mates with languid, bored eyes.
"Let's see what he's got here," said the one clothed in black and midnight blue bending over the dead man by his feet and turning him over. Once, he would have probably thrown up at the sight. Once, he would have never permitted this to happen. Once, he would have… he would have done a lot of things differently then…
He looked at his companion still sitting on the ground. "Can't you work on your targets with a little less mess for once?"
"He is from the Village of Sand." It was all that was heard in response as a pair of baby greens landed on the symbol etched onto a metal band a few feet away from the dead man's body. As if that should be sufficient enough to explain everything that had been done. "You know I vowed never to let them die painlessly."
There was silence. Knowing was one thing… But it did not make it any easier. And the other justshook his head. And went back to his task.
"Well wake me up when you done," called the man up in the tree. He finds the events dull and boring. Just like everything else.
"Whatever," muttered the busy one as he continued to rummage through the man's cloak. He found the box that he was looking for and pried it from cold, stiff hands. He gave it to the man still seated near him. "This is what we came for."
He then stood up and looked one last time at the mangled, lifeless body before him before sending it into flames.
"You should never have come here." He said in a low, empty voice to the body being consumed by the fire. "Coming here was a grave mistake, coming here to spy was a death sentence."
The blood-soaked figure stood up and turned away from the fire holding the box in his hands. The flames highlighted red, unruly, shoulder-length hair, tied in a ponytail. One almost couldn'tdistinguishwherethe red threadsended and where theflames began .
"Shikamaru." He spoke in an even tone.
One eye lazily peeked through a downcast lid. "You done? That's good I wanna go get some shut eye."
"We're taking this back."
"Must I go too?" Grumble.
"Yes."
"But Gaara-"
The red-haired nin already disappeared.
"Damn. Are you coming?" He called to the immobile figure standing on a bloodstained ground staring intently at the pyre.
"I'll be there. Go."
Nara Shikamaru rose up and studied his remaining companion for a second. Then he just shrugged and left.
The last man left behind continued to watch the dying embers for a moment. He, Uzumaki Naruto, whispered these final words to the ashes before fading into the night. "By this time, you people should've known better than to spy into Phantom country..."
End Prologue.
