Drunken Swordsmen of the Mist

by Chikeninacoop

War never changes. I signed up to defend my village and her people. Not to pleasure the warmongering ambitions of those in rule. I stride into every battle with death shadowing over me. And in the end. Im no better than the ones who killed her. Will my mind break first or will my body? I hope it's the latter. AU

Everyday feels the same.

Sometimes I wonder, what would life be like in a more stable village?

Konoha joined the war for a noble cause. Iwa invaded the sovereign land of rain, Literally steps away from the leaf.

But why did my great village decide to join in on the war? For fucking territory.

Our great strength is our naval power no other country can match. Us mist shinobi can fight back any force the world has to offer. Whether it be the endless waves of Stone shinobi or be it the intolerable teamwork loving Leaf shinobi.

I love the hidden Mist. Our blood red tides can strike fear into any man. Instead there's carriages filled with dismembered bodies being carted back every day with every failed attack.

Honestly, I shouldn't even be talking like this. I'm just a lowly chunin marked as cannon fodder by the village. This war was supposed to bring me the glory I deserved. I was supposed to make a name for myself, Maybe even be inducted into the Seven Ninja Swordsmen of the Mist.

Instead one by one.

Everyone around me is dying.

First it was Togi, now Fujita is dead. My sensei, my friends, my team, everyone is dead. She is, She just died too. The only person who could take my brain off this cruel world. Killed in front of me.

There is no such thing as weakness in Kiri. I've seen the broken ones before. They just end up disappearing. Probably taken away and killed.

To die in combat is to die an honorable death. What is this world we live in?

The first created this village to end the nonstop bloodshed between clans and to bring an era of prosperous peace and unity. Oh how I would love to see the look on his face when he finds out we're just killing our own children at home.

I'm to be sent out on the western front, apart of the expeditionary Mist II platoon. Otherwise known as no named disposable Chunin. Everyone's shivering around me, either from fear or the cold winter breeze the sea is offering us tonight. Mostly out of fear I assume.