On Your Feet, in the Streets
Morning, again. How many days has it been? Weeks? Months? They fade from one to another as I attempt to study the guides that I was given. Images replay in my head as I realize the day and age that I was reborn into: an age of war, feudal strife, and the laws that govern the science of this world work much differently than one could predict. Now there was chakra, gates of chi, and the inhumanly powerful techniques under the guise of "nin-jutsu".
I learned to walk, which was an outstanding feat to those housing me. I've only been here 2 months.
I'm starting to remember, again, the life I left behind. I was an investigator on the biggest case of my time. The whole city of New York was up in arms about the urgency of this too…but I died. I don't remember who, how, where, or even when I died, but I know I did, painfully. It was a shame too. I guess Jerry would get to have this case like he wanted. A worthy rival, at best.
I talk, after 6 months, although I make sure to plan it this time. If they suspected me to be a prodigy, I wouldn't here the end of it. I wouldn't be left alone.
'And would that be a problem, Soul: dealing with people?' Kurama's voice talks almost celestially, but retains a boredom that reminds me that she isn't a god.
'It would for the same reason that it's your problem as well' I reply sharply.
'I don't deal with people because they are harmful and destructive towards me. I have learned trust before.'
'And look where that got you.' As much as I loved being within the world, I didn't feel free. I was sent here to do a mission. If I fail the mission, I get a fate worse than death, because I'm already dead and this is not my world.
She walked away from the gate of the cage and turned back smirking. 'So trusting me was a mistake on your part as well.'
'Yeah, and you should have devoured me, given the chance.' The lack of care given on my account was almost depressing. Almost...
I returned to my body's consciousness, and I was alone, from that day on, for 4 more years.
I remained emotionless and my guardians began to worry about me. At one time, they took me to the market.
"What do you even want? I'll buy you anything you ask for," the mother said. She was carrying me, and I made little effort to resist her touch, which might have been warmer if I were an actual person. But I wasn't an actual person, and this wasn't my actual mother.
I paused and gave her a blank look. "I want to be a ninja," I said blankly, and she looked at me in horror.
Later that day, I saw the third for the first time in a while. His hat showed me that he was the leader again. He took me and placed me in the orphanage, or at least it seemed like an orphanage because other children my age were there. That night I slept alone, under watch. Four ninja sealed me in a wooden cage, and I was surrounded. Their eyes were full of hate, and I was alone...
Each morning I was fed, and taken out to practice. I would use weapons, wooden shurikens mostly, and then practice hand to hand combat, which was the worst because the instructor's hand would "slip" every once and a while. It hurt but only for about a minute or so. There would be a lunch break, in which I was given a sandwich, and then there would be more practice until dusk. No dinner or supper. They thought I wasn't hungry. This, I thought, would be my life for a long while.
On the third day living this way, I passed by a mirror while going to the restroom on a lunch break, and what I saw was ghastly. My eyes glow a fiendish red, and my features were shaped so that I look more like a fox than a human being: small but definite fangs, a pointed nose, and even hints of fur grew from my cheeks. Blood ran down my neck in religious, and almost sadist, patterns. All this was taken in at a moment and a single thought shot through my mind as my eyes changed from natural demonic anger to terror: 'What am I?'
'You are what you want to be: a demon with malice on this world.'
'This is not what I wanted to happen! You-'
'THEN LISTEN CLOSELY, FOOL!' her voice flung open her cage and the nine-tailed fox, in full form, pinned me to the floor with one paw. 'YOU ARE A SPIRIT AND MY HOST, BUT I AM GREATER THAN YOU, MORE FIT THAN YOU! YOU MAY HAVE DIED ONCE, BUT I HAVE SUFFERED A THOUSAND DEATHS, PUNY HUMAN! HEED THESE WORDS AND HEED THEM WELL: I AM THE NINE TAILED FOX! FEAR MY WISDOM AND POWER! RESPECT ME!'
I sat there, in terror, until the guards walked in to the bathroom. They dragged me, on my knees, back to the third, in his office, and he looked at me with intrigue. I turned my head to the left and saw that I aged a few years, in the mirror. I now looked eight, compared to the four and a half years that I have lived so far. My demonic features were gone. I was normal.
"How long has he been like this?" the third asked.
"A few minutes, we believe. He went into the bathroom and didn't come out. Then we walked in and found him like this," the masked guard said.
"You there, boy." He pointed at me. "What is your name?" He really forgot after only four years? I didn't change that much.
"Soul. Just Soul."