Memoirs of a Shinobi


The rain is continuous, sheets of grey upon an even darker silver sheen. The trees shiver in the gusts of wind, and it is here that we find you. In the blood pools that are darker than the sky, darker than your eyes in the half-light, darker than your heart when it realizes. Not far from Konohagakure, the place familiar, but not enough to draw a memory. The leaves shake droplets of icy water onto your hair, and you hurry on, ignoring your heart which is beating hard against your ribs. The chest in which is locked a terrifying beast, behind locked white bones.

The Caged Beast

+Kiba+

The lump in your throat isn't wearing down
Even though the wine you drink is drowning you
And you let yourself hope, believing
Maybe it will take the pain away
Just one more time

Before the beast you covet in your chest
Slashes apart your organs and makes you bleed
And it cracks open your ribcage, then escapes
Leaving you empty in its wake


It was a cold, rainy day when I went into the woods with Shino, on a mission looking for survivors. The sky was grey and cloudy, throwing torrential, burning rain onto the shoulders of my jacket as we hurried through the dripping leaves, darkened branches blocking my sight, while the wetness only enhanced my ability to smell. There was the lingering, heavy scent of death and blood nearby, and it made shivers run down my skin that couldn't be associated with the ice in the air. Anticipation crawled up my spine as Akamaru barked a few trees up ahead, saying 'Come on I think we're getting close!' I passed a double ended kunai, lodged deeply into a tree, shuriken marks slashing the tree, crisscrossing in a pattern I couldn't decipher. The rain fell into my eyes as I hurried ahead, apprehension tightening my chest and making it hard to breathe. Suddenly Akamaru stopped below me, in a clearing, standing and staring. I jumped ahead and landed beside him, and was frozen just as he.

What the? I thought, seeing the blood that pooled around numerous corpses, all grotesquely disfigured. They were faceless, as their bodies were burnt and riddled with cuts seen even underneath the crusted skin. Their skin was mottled and reddish black, their clothes invisible or stuck to their skin. Burnt to their skin. Their lifeless bodies seemed so empty, I thought, looking around, dumbfounded at the gruesome sight before me. The surrounding trees were tinged with burnt leaves, and ashes collected around the trunks. What happened? Shino was beside me in a moment, and although I couldn't really tell, I thought he was just as speechless. Not that he talked much, mind you.

How were we going to find survivors in this?

Suddenly Akamaru barked, making us jump in surprise, and we turned to him. He was pointing to something with one quivering paw, and I could see something moving in the shadows. I blinked the rain from my eyes, struggling to see through the darkness dripping from the leaves overhead. The form was small, although that wasn't unusual in our profession; ninja's were generally smaller because then their center of gravity was lower, and it was easier to hide if you were small. The figure was dripping with blood, I could smell it on them, and was close to dying. Akamaru barked again, fearfully, and this time he said, 'His power, it's huge!'

"Who's there?" I called out, taking a kunai from out of the leather pouch behind me, ready to strike. Nothing, nothing in the world, could have prepared me to see who I saw. Nothing, nothing, could have prepared me to feel all of the sadness clenching my throat and stomach, the fire building in my lungs and striking at my eyes.

I saw you, Naruto, dripping in blood. Your eyes were red, and you were almost glowing. I could feel the chakra ripping through the air, burning at my fingers and face, every intention of killing me on the spot written all over you. Your clothes were ripped and although there was blood all over you, the only place there was something in your skin was at your neck. A silver kunai was lodged in your throat, but you still stood. Your forehead protector glinted in the dull light from the clouded sun, under your shock-yellow hair. I stood in shock for a few moments, before rushing, running to your side. You collapsed into my arms, red eyes fading to aqua, blue eyes bleary and crinkled around the edges. You were so light, Naruto, in my arms.

Through the blood that streamed from your neck, you coughed up a few words, as well as fluid. The rain pattered onto your skin, sliding downwards like the tears on my cheeks. Your eyes were soft and so blue at that moment, in the rain that fell like razors upon our skins, and as the light settled upon you and me, I felt like we were the only two people in the world. You said, softly, blood gurgling in your throat, "Say goodbye… to—" but you didn't manage the rest. Your eyes slid closed, and you were still.

It seemed so sudden, and you were gone. Ripped from our world and into the next, and I didn't know who killed you. Tears streamed down the tattoos on my cheeks, dripping onto yours, sliding down the scars on your skin that never healed, never went away. I would find who killed you, and kill them. I would, I promised you, myself, gods, and everything in the village of Konoha. Shino was standing beside me, and I curled you up towards me, your bones sliding easily around in my arms, your blood staining my jacket. I pressed your forehead against mine, feeling it grew cold, my arms tightening around your back. I never wanted to let you go.

Suddenly Shino's hand clasped my shoulder, and I jumped. "Kiba. It's time to go. There's no one else here." He was gruff and to the point, and I knew we needed to go. But I didn't want to; I didn't want to leave you. As if reading my mind, Shino said, "We'll bring him with us. If we leave now we can get there before nightfall." I picked you up in my arms; you were so light, cradled you to my chest, tears still falling.

"Let's go," I said, and we leapt back up into the trees, Akamaru following close behind.


Its night, the darkness has fallen over the world like a blessed blanket, shielding everyone from view. Alcohol poisons my system, draining the memories from me, pulling away the pain that would overcome me if I were sober. How many days ago did I find you? How many nights have I gone sleepless, plagued by fragments of memories of you? I've lost count, everything's a blur. The streetlamps flicker uncertainly under the heavy hand of the dark, slipping together until they're only smudges on the screen of night, hidden from my eyes as the brown orbs slide downward, watching my feet lead me home. The oppressiveness of the darkness is impossible to ignore as it presses down everywhere on my body, its heavy hands pulling at my clothes, grabbing at my invisible shadow until the world is as sluggish in my eyes as I feel. Akamaru is walking solemnly by my side, whining ever so slightly when I don't pick him up or even acknowledge him. I just can't. I can't do anything, anything at all. When I reach my apartment, I forget where I left my key, and all the windows and doors are locked. I could look for it, or even just pick the lock with a senbon or kunai, but what's the point?

I walk over to the window slowly, gazing in its reflective surface for a few moments. I see, in the cool, calm light of the moon, my mirror image surrounded by darkness. I look so gaunt, eyes hollow, dark circles around each eye, only intensified by the soft hood rimmed with black animal hair that shadows my face. The red tattoos on my cheeks are dark, almost black, while my normally brown skin is fading to alabaster. I don't care, nothing matters anymore. Suddenly your face takes the place of mine, eyes growing large and fading to almost indigo in the darkness, cheekbones rounding out and scars tracing three lines on each cheek. You're staring at me with such innocence, such happiness in your eyes; it's hard to look at. I reach back, fist curled, and smash the pane easily, chakra sliding around my knuckles against the window to crack the glass even further, a strangled, animal-like cry escaping my lips. I let my hand drop, defeated, staring at the broken reflection of what is now myself, seeing my eyes filtered into a million different images, all looking more gruesome than the last. The claws on my fingers reach up and slash across the spider-webbed pane, screeching dangerously high in my sensitive ears. Akamaru whimpers, afraid, as another throaty animal call breaks from me. I can feel the pain ripping through my chest, rapidly consuming me, and can feel my anger growing. I whip my hand across the window once more and it comes crashing down, the glass shattering on impact with the stone.

No alarms sound, and no one comes running. There are no red and blue lights, bloodying the air and then soothing it with blue and white. No high pitched sirens, blazing lights and screams fill the air. Nothing is here on the empty street with the empty man staring at a broken window, glass pooled around his feet, looking like death and wishing for it with every inch of his being. Nothing is here, but me. And I wish I wasn't. Blood drips from my curled fists and from my fingernails, and there's a large stain on my jacket, but it's not mine. That escape, that release of life, isn't mine. It's yours, and I wish it wasn't. I jump inside, ignoring the fragments of my reflection scattered on the sidewalk, and retreat to my bedroom. Akamaru trails me warily, afraid that I might hurt myself.

Moonlight filters through my windows, settling on my slouched form, since I've curled up on the end of my bed. The covers are tangled around my ankles, my stained jacket lying in a crumpled heap next to my desk. Without the protection from the cold given by my coat, I'm shivering in the iciness that permeates the glass. No tears fall from my cheeks though, my eyes vacant and unseeing as I stare dreamlessly out the window. Akamaru can smell the liquor on me, and knows what it can do to me if I let it. And I do, oh so willingly, without a trace of regret. Empty bottles are scattered across the floor, some overturned and empty, a few on my night table that have some amber liquid left in it, next to drained glasses that stand like witnesses in a courtroom of my sorrows. Clutched to my hollow chest is a whiskey bottle, half consumed in only a few minutes of my arrival home and yet I'm already too far gone to drink any more.

Akamaru comes to stand beside the bed, whining at me, even though he knows it's useless in my catatonic state. He claws at a dangling end of the cover I'm lying on, and I struggle to ignore his tactics, even though it's growing to annoy me. Just as my irritation seems to reach an all time high, his claw snags at the fabric, and it jerks beneath me, rolling me forward. Roaring angrily, I turn and smash the bottle down on the carpet, only a few inches from his head. The end explodes and whiskey flies everywhere, spilling from the broken glass to pool on the rug. Akamaru whimpers and I'm drawn from my alcohol-induced daze and its as though I see him for the first time.

"Oh… Akamaru… I'm so sorry!" I say softly, dropping the neck of the bottle to the floor and motioning towards Akamaru with my hands. "Please come here, I'm so sorry!" He crouches, gazing warily up at me for a few moments, then comes at my calls. I pick him up, feeling the bones beneath the scraggly coat, and wonder how long it has been since I last fed him proper food. I pull him to me, burying my face in his neck for a moment, feeling his warmth spread to my frozen face, then put him down. He curls up against me, and I can feel him radiating heat through the fishnet shirt and plating on my chest. I pet him softly, slowly running my fingers over his fur the rest of the night, back to staring mindlessly out of the window in silence.


I go to the Hokage tower the next morning, headache forming slowly, pressing against my temples. It's been a few days, and I know that soon there will be your funeral. There is a new coat on my shoulders instead of the old one that still reeks of alcohol and blood. Still, the scent of liquor must hang around me for Tsunade stares at me strangely. But then again, it might have been the words I said just moments before.

"You want a mission? Now? You know in a few days it'll be—"

"I know." I say, abruptly cutting her off. I can't hear the word funeral, it would be too much.

"Are you sure?" She looks at me, as if she can see the truth beginning to unwind from where it's bound in my stomach, making me want to vomit.

"Yes. Give me a mission, any mission." I snap, muscles tightening under her steady gaze.

"You don't look okay," she says, walking over from behind the heavy oak Hokage desk, removing my hitai-ate and pressing the back of her hand against my forehead. It's slightly warm, but definitely not feverish. She leans down and peers into my eyes, taking in the exaggerated circles surrounding them, the reddish rims, and the glassy surfaces. "Have you been drinking?" She asks, standing straight again.

"No." I lie, and I wish myself to look like its true, that I'm not lying to the Godaime, to the village, to my friends, to everyone, even to myself. I wish that I wasn't lying, and I could admit that I could find solace and peace from anywhere else but the bottom of a liquor bottle. I'm not sure about anything except that I want to leave, get out of Konoha before the service, and go on a mission anywhere to do anything. As long as it's far away from the village; far away from the flowers and regrets that will fall from the skies to rest upon the shining casket as it winds its way through the village's crowded streets. At least that's what I hope, even if I'm not there to see it.

She sighs heavily, and I know she doesn't believe it in every word that she speaks. "Okay. If you want to go on a mission you can." She reaches across the desk and picks up a scroll, unrolled it and sighed again. Finally, after a long while she gives me a mission, and I disappear from the room silently. Although I'm gone, I can still hear her whisper to nothing, "Naruto wouldn't have run away…" but it slides past me and I don't care, I'm already empty.

The mission starts immediately; I'm to report to the Village Hidden in the Mist, in the Water Country. I head out, without going home or telling anyone that I'm going, least of all Shino or Hinata. They hadn't visited me yet, or in any case I hadn't been home to know if they had been by. But we were the best tracker team in the village, so if they had wanted to find me, they could.

But they didn't, I think traitorously to myself as I slip into the forest surrounding the village. Akamaru is in the trees ahead, already scouting, and trying to get as far away from me as possible without seeming to and without leaving me behind. There are a thousand different smells laid out before me, of a million different ninjas and people and animals and bugs that roam the forest, an intricate pattern of interweaving colors creating a puzzle that I don't want to know the answer to. I trail behind Akamaru for the rest of the day, senses alert and heightened when the sun sets in the west and night falls.

The night is slightly cloudy, and the moon makes silver shadows on the grassy ground below me. I ignore it, I have to. Akamaru's familiar red color line suddenly flares crimson, a warning that I can't ignore, and I hurry forward. I sense a group of ninjas not far ahead, hostile and heavily armed. It's a solo mission and I have to take them out by myself, although Akamaru will be at my side.

Without warning, I was surrounded by the black-clad ninjas, and my kunais were out and ready. Akamaru jumped beside me, teeth bared and a growling low in his throat. Then the ninjas advanced, together as one, a fluid group of the night sky without stars, silver blades glinting in the cool light of the moon. But their glimmering blades did not faze me, and I fought.

Dangerously close to death, dancing on the edge of life, the searing edges could not find me in the darkness, and I closed my eyes. I dared the night without stars, the silver blades, the pain, the memories, to take me; I dared them to touch me as I flowed easily between the flickering swords. Reckless abandon swept through me and the feeling of that I didn't care suddenly overtook my body. My movements grew daring, leaving bigger and bigger open spaces in my defense to hit, but none did at first. Then a sliver of pain flashed across my chest, and I ignored it, a strangled animal-like roar bursting from my lips as I drew my kunai across the throat of yet another night-cloaked ninja. I could feel their bodies around me, could feel the cool, slick surface of their katana's blade covered in blood across my cheek as I danced close to one, stabbing it smoothly behind the skull. The sticky red substance spurted across my jacket and the still-hot vital fluid spattered my face, joining the unknown tears that were flowing there. The pain everywhere across my body was growing, and as I searched, blind eyed, in the darkness, for one more to kill, one more for me to relish in their defeat, I realized there were none left.

I opened my eyes, looked at my blood-covered palms, my new coat, now drenched in the vital fluid, saw the pain I had been straining to release from my chest, released into now dead bodies. A painful howl escaped me, ripped through my throat, burning my mouth with its rawness. I saw it all, felt it all, and I collapsed to the ground, arm supporting barely supporting me as I became violently sick upon the ground, vomit joining the blood that soaked into the dust, staining forever the plants that grew there. I retched up the entire contents of my stomach until only bile came out, and then began coughing. I heaved up stomach fluid at first, and then came the blood. Coughs wracked my body, my frame shaking all over, muscles convulsing, hot and cold all at once. I reached up to stifle a cough, and hacked up blood into my outstretched palm. I stared at my palm, and then violently wiped it on the ground as my body doubled over again, and I hacked up even more blood. I stayed that way for the longest time, bent over, coughing, trying to rid myself of every bad memory, everything I knew. But no matter how much I tried, the memory of your blue eyes stayed with me, the memories of your pain.

The memories of your death.

Slowly, painfully, I stood up, stumbling across to an oak close by. Akamaru whined at my feet as I leaned heavily on the rough trunk, ragged breathing obvious as I pressed my hand against my chest, where a trickle of blood once was that was turning into a steady flow. I can't die like this. I can't die alone, like you, Naruto. I can't die. I can't. I can't… My thoughts streamed off as the darkened tree tops wavered before my eyes. I can't! This thought propelling me, I stood shakily, blood dribbling down from my mouth, and made my way into the trees. It was hard to see, and my nose was overcome by the smell of death all over me, mixed with blood and vomit, and it was terrifying to navigate through the treacherous branches in the night.

When I neared the village, a branch caught me in the chest, a searing pain flew through me, and I fell to the ground on my back, unable to stop my descent in shock. Akamaru dropped beside me, and began nudging at my face, licking my cheeks dry, but balked when his tongue came in contact with the blood. I struggled to sit up, chest heaving with the effort, eyes squeezing shut with the sudden onslaught of pain. I couldn't make it. I had to, I had to make it back to Konoha, I had to stay alive! For you, Naruto, I had to stay alive. It was a must, and I knew I had to. I staggered to my feet, and started off towards the huge wooden gates, and the village beyond. All I remember is making it, tired and bleeding, to the north entrance, before collapsing to the ground and black consuming my vision completely.


When I awoke, I was in a stark white room, the walls white-washed and the curtains starched clean. I looked down upon my chest, and saw the wound there wrapped and cleaned. I knew that Akamaru was okay, but I still worried when I didn't see him anywhere near me. I almost considered getting up, but before I could amass the amount of energy necessary to do any such thing, the door opened and Hinata and Shino walked in solemnly. Hinata was looking worriedly at me while Shino was impassible in his customary high-collared jacket and tinted black sunglasses.

"Kiba!" Hinata exclaimed, running towards me and embracing me tightly. Pain lanced across my wound but I still held her close to me. I was happy she was here, and Shino too, because I had almost forgotten what it was like to have friends. I buried my face into her neck, body shaking with tears of happiness or sadness, I didn't know, but I quickly decided it didn't matter anymore. Hinata pulled back and said softly, "Oh, Kiba! We were so worried about you when you didn't come back. When we didn't see you for several days we thought you had…" She looked like she was about to cry, so I merely hugged her again, smiling at Shino over her shoulder. I was never going to be so reckless again… for your memory, Naruto.


awwww... kiba! i love kiba. beyond any weird psychopathic tendencies he just might have. and im going to ignore that whole 'akamaru-is-big-enough-for-kiba-to-ride-when-they're-older' because i just dont care. and how he dresses.because i didnt know when i wrote it, so too damn bad. xD because theyre older, dont worry, kiba isnt um... underage drinking... iono? maybe he is. im not really sure how old they are, so its kinda blurry on that. lets just assume it doesnt matter, (because it doesnt) and just read the story. woot!

Preventer Squall- um. didnt mean for the whole shinoXhinata. but whatever. xD i love shino! woohoo read it however ya like! (ps. glennon says thank you)

DJ Rodriguez-ooh.. (wondering about tsunade.. wow... heheheh)

Lady Kagome0101- ffgirl-07- Saico- ShinobiFighter101- thanx!

madnarutofan- hehehe youll see!

Uozumi- i hope so too. :)

and not to mention everyone else who reviewed before...

oh and im sorry for the gruesome stuff including kiba's coughing and when everyone is burnt. you see i started this fanfic after my dog died a while ago, and then when i was writing on sunday and stuff... i found out my favorite teacher, ever, Ms. Moulton, died. DIED! omfg. i know. and then i got angry and crap so im sorry for that. :) im sorry fer the long wait too... its just the end of the quarter n there are projects due and stuff. oh. srry im going on for ever. hehe ill shut up NOW! shino is up next! What will he see in the mirror, after he finally removes the glasses? who. knows. (cept me but not really) buh-bai+ im sorry for the bad verb tenses. ima so confused. ill fix em later, after i finish this project.