Adult-FanFiction.org : Naruto

My Soul (sequel to My Heart)	By : SakuraLee91 Category: Naruto > Het - Male/Female > Kakashi/Sakura Views: 2396 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto nor do I make any money from my stories ^^

Chapter List
- 1-My Soul ch. 1
- 2-The end is the beginning
- 1
- 2
This is the sequel to my story My Heart! I hope you all enjoy it ^^
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kakashi stood before her and said, “I am ready for my mission, Lady Hokage.”
            “The man you will be escorting is waiting just outside the gate with more Shinobi guarding him at this point. They won’t be going with you as I said before. I am sorry to have to do this to you Kakashi,” she took a deep breath at the look of pain that flashed through his eyes, and continued with the instructions. “Everything you need is in the pack that one of the Shinobi on the other side of the gate is holding. I wish you the best of luck and I hope that this isn’t a suicide mission as it appears to be on the surface.”
            Kakashi nodded and walked back to Sakura. “Kakashi-sensei, my sensei, I love you,” she whispered in between deep kisses, “please be safe.” She tenderly cupped his face in her hands and placed another gentle kiss on his lips.
Gently stroking her cheek, Kakashi whispered, “I love you too, Sakura.” Kissing her again, he said, “I will find my way back to you. I promise to come back to you, Sakura. I promise,” he whispered fiercely as he placed one more kiss on her lips and turned to go.
Upon reaching the gate, Kakashi’s steps faltered as he stepped out of sight and heard Sakura’s wails of pain.

                Kakashi stepped toward his client, sorrow dragging at his heart as he thought of the mission ahead of him. Approaching the group outside the gate, Kakashi nodded at the Anbu shinobi guarding the charge. The man in between them stood slightly hunched over, his arms thrust into the sleeves of the opposite side across his chest as his vacant eyes stared down the path that led from the village.
                Kakashi stood to the man’s side and waited, apprehension temporarily settling on his shoulders. A quick shiver of shock ran down his spine before he shook it off. What was that? He thought. Shaking his head, his thoughts veered from his unsettling emotions and focused once more on the person he will be spending the next year or so with.
                Bowing his head, he whispered, “Nice to meet you Lord Kaze Hiro. I will be your escort on your way back. If there is anything you need, let me know.” Kakashi stood straight again and asked, “Are you ready?”
                The man shifted very slowly toward Kakashi and looked over his shoulder, “As you wish it.”
                Kakashi looked at the Anbu member to his left and reached out a hand. Taking the small pack from him, Kakashi flipped open the lid and checked to make sure that he had all the necessities. Closing the flap, Kakashi shouldered the bag and said, “It’s time, Lord Kaze Hiro.”
                The Lord nodded once at Kakashi and proceeded to walk slowly toward the path. Kakashi raised a hand to his heart and closed his eyes briefly before straightening in determination and quickly catching up with the sure-footed Lord. The journey has begun, what is going to be the outcome?

                **************************************************************************
                Tree leaves rustled in the light breeze, creating dancing shadows on the pathway below. Filtering sunlight bounced off of the duo below, throwing their already guarded features into the deep contrast between light and dark over and over. In the lead was a man of average build, his features hidden beneath a wide brimmed hat that held a mysterious symbol that seemed to resemble a question mark encased in clouds. The obscurity of the symbol lent to the air of secrecy the man emitted to his companion and his surroundings.
                Following closely behind the mysterious man was a man who was considerably taller with silver spiked hair. A head-band crossed his left eye, bearing the insignia of a swirl with a point; the symbol of the Hidden Leaf Village. The symbol promoted who he was: a shinobi of the Hidden Village. The presence surrounding this individual was one of surety, experience.
                Both of them strolled in silence, neither feeling the urge to break the awkward silence between them. The day was deceptively bright and light-hearted, covering the situation that forced these two to become companions on this journey.
                “Lord Kaze Hiro,” the silver-haired ninja said, his eyes boring holes into the back of the silent Lord in front of him. “Lady Tsunade told me that this mission is a duo mission: one of escort and one of diplomacy. I am fine with either; however, I need to know some things about this situation in your village if I am going to be of any help to you.”
                The Lord continued to walk on in silence, as if the question had never been voiced. The silver-haired ninja stayed silent also, expectations of receiving an answer, any answer to fill in this curiosity that seemed to be weighing upon him so heavily, residing within.
                “Kakashi,” a voice spoke softly from in front of the silver-haired ninja, causing his eyes to jerk to the man in front of him. “Listen closely. My village, the place where I am entrusted with the lives of those around me, is in a civil war. My people are divided and the village is in chaos. The leaders of the two groups have demanded an audience with me; I still hold some sway over some of my people. Their methods are crude and they show no hesitation in hurting innocent bystanders. They each believe their ‘truth’ to be right. That their ways, their beliefs in how our village should be saved, are the only possible solutions. Our village is decaying. The resources that we thrive on are becoming scarce and people are in a panic. There is no thought about others now. There is only the fight of the desperate to save the village, and themselves. They’re no longer civilized.”
                The Lord paused in his speech, gazing into an unseen vision as his steps steadily propelled him forward. He drew a deep breath as sheens of unshed tears glistened on his lashes. “I’m responsible for this. I should have been a stronger leader and guided my people in the right direction. I should have been their light and pulled the village through this tough situation. That’s why I have to talk to the leaders of the two groups and why I asked the Leaf Village for help, for guidance. If this doesn’t end soon, the whole village will be destroyed: the village and the people. It will be engulfed in darkness and despair forever and I couldn’t stand that.”
                Kakashi stared at the Lord’s back as he spoke, detecting sincerity and sadness. A swell of sympathy rolled through Kakashi and he thought longingly of Sakura; her soft pink hair, luscious lips, and gentle smile. Closing his eyes briefly in pain, Kakashi drew a steadying breath and spoke, “Lord Kaze Hiro, I will, to my utmost abilities, help resolve this situation in any way that I can and I hope, for your people’s sakes, that we can create a brighter future for your village.”
                The Lord threw a brief glance over his shoulder and said, “Thank you Kakashi, thank you.” A small smile pulled at his lips, an air of disaster surrounding it. Kakashi felt a sense of alarm and then panic. Frowning, he pushed these emotions aside, thinking it was just his imagination creating an unnecessary sense of foreboding.
                The two of them set off for the mysterious village, silence once again settling between them as the wind continued to rustle the leaves in trees.

**************************************************************************
Deep within the darkest forest, surrounded by towering rock gates, was a village being torn apart by an inner struggle for survival. Light barely penetrated the covering trees, filtering in between the leaves to scatter bits of sunshine onto the rocky ground of the village. The heavy black of the shadows, however, could not hide the damage that had been done to the village.
                The streets were littered with papers and debris from the wreckage on either side of the paved pathway. The houses were dark and decaying, the wood sidings and porches wrenched from their places, jutting out into the open. An atmosphere of abandonment hung in the air creating an oppressive twist to the once serene and plentiful town.
                Broken toys littered yards, brown from the dying grass. Shingles hung off edges of roofs, no longer adding to the protection of the people who once lived there. Shops were shut down, goods cleared out by people desperate for sustenance. The village . . . was dead.

                **************************************************************************

                “It is becoming quite late,” Lord Kaze Hiro whispered, his soft voice drifting back to reach Kakashi’s ears. They had been traveling for quite a few hours: the sun now gone and exhaustion from their long trek beginning to drag upon their bodies. “I suggest we rest for the night.”
Kakashi agreed with the Lord and steered him to a small alcove hidden in the trees to the left of the path. Setting his pack down, Kakashi set out to find some fire wood to help ward off the chill of evening.
Grabbing some of the stones outlining the tree bases, he set them in a circle in the middle of the alcove. Gathering up some of the longer branches that had fallen from the trees, he placed them in the middle of the stones, arranging them to form a small stack pointing up toward the sky. Crunching up some of the leaves littering the grass, he tucked them under the tree pillar. Lifting his hands, he quickly formed the signs ram-dog-rabbit-serpent-bird-boar-horse-tiger to perform the Fireball no Jutsu.
Kakashi used a smaller amount of chakra to produce this jutsu, creating a small flame that caught on the dried leaves and quickly spread to the branches. A soft orange glow surround the clearing now as the fire created the much needed heat. Lord Kaze Hiro moved closer to the fire and sat on a small boulder beside it.
Kakashi glanced at the Lord, making sure he was all right, and then proceeded to unpack the essential items from his pack that were needed for a more comfortable camp. He quickly grabbed the poles and the tent fabric and pitched their sleeping arrangements. Lord Kaze Hiro would sleep in a sleeping bag in the tent and Kakashi would keep watch.

The first day of their journey had progressed in silence after their exchange about Kakashi’s duties. The next morning they set out once more for their destination, their night uneventful and quiet. It had been difficult to occupy my mind, Kakashi thought as reflected back on the night before, which had found him staring at the sky. Sakura, what are you doing right now? I hope that, whatever it is, it has your mind preoccupied with something other than our separation.
The path that Kakashi and Lord Kaze Hiro were following gradually worsened the closer they got to their destination, becoming uneven and filled with holes. Once again, a shiver of uneasiness traveled Kakashi’s spine. Shrugging his shoulders, the silver-haired nin tried to shake off the feeling but found that it was persistent.

**************************************************************************
The scene painted before Kakashi, as he entered the Village of no name, was one of complete and utter despair. His calm mask cracked and horror filled his eyes as he stared at the ruins of what was once a community. His heart thudded faster and faster in his chest as he cautiously edged further into the streets, darkness surrounding him.
                Fear clogged his pores, smothering him as he proceeded further into the blackness, straining his eyes for any sign of life. “Lord Kaze Hiro,” he whispered, in deference to the silence enveloping them, “what. . .” He couldn’t even finish the question as his eyes fell upon a small doll, lying on the side of the street. His breathing quickened and his heart pounded against his rib cages, echoing in his ears. Kneeling down beside the grungy toy, he gently lifted it into his hands, cradling the poor thing lightly as his thumbs brushed the dirt and grime off of its eyes and face, revealing a smiling face with wide green eyes.
                Kakashi closed his own eyes and said a prayer for the image he had of the doll’s owner: a child, with bright, inquisitive eyes and a quick laugh. “Lord Kaze Hiro, this is no ordinary Civil War.” He stood and turned to the man he was sent to protect.
                “What is going on here, Lord? This is too much destruction and devastation for a Civil War that just recently started. It’s deserted, destroyed, and absolutely suffocating with all the emotions of pain and horror filling it,” Kakashi spoke in a firm, even voice, reigning in his temper. Clutching the doll to his chest, he took a step closer to the Lord before him. “Explain to me what you didn’t before Lord Kaze Hiro.”
                A low chuckle escaped from beneath the tilted cap of the Kaze’s cap, permeating the air. It grew in volume until the Lord threw his head back, the laughs erupting from his gut, spilling between the two men. Kakashi stared in apprehension at the Lord’s crumbling façade, a sense of foreboding gripping him.
                From out of the surrounding darkness, a mass of dark clothed figures created a loose circle around Kakashi and Lord Kaze Hiro, their bodies at the ready, hands loosely cupped around weapons waiting to be drawn. The group stood firm, no movement what-so-ever permeating the air around them. Each pair of eyes gleamed in the dimming light of the crescent moon hovering over the scene taking place on the earth below.
                Kakashi never flinched, his face a mask of a stoic, calm façade, the doll still loosely clutched to the slow and steady rise and fall of his chest. His eye flickered over the new comers, quickly and systematically shifting through all the possible outcomes of this entanglement. . .this isn’t good, Kakashi thought as all the possible scenarios ended in his capture and/or death.
                The Lord before the silver-haired nin shifted into an up-right position, no longer the hunched over old man that had presented himself at the beginning of their journey. His hand rose to the cap on his head and removed the veiling garment, revealing a moderately handsome man in his late forties with dark brown hair and mean, slanted eyes that pierced the darkness.
“Ahh, Kakashi, my body guard, you did such a fine job on this journey, getting me back to my . . . village. And now, I think it is time to reward you with the truth behind the decay of the scene around you. You see, a few years ago, my old man was appointed the Kaze of this village. Before his appointment he was a fair, gentle man that everybody looked up to. . .”
                Lifting his hand above his head, he stared at the moon in between his fingers and gave a mirthless chuckle. “But, people change, and after he became the Kaze of the people, the power and greed destroyed him. His heart changed and he became a filthy animal . . . and there is only one thing to do with filthy animals, put them down,” he clenched his hands over the moon in the sky and growled, “so I did and took his title from him. It wasn’t as easy as it sounds. His dirty ways had garnered him a group of followers who benefited from his sly, under-the-table dealings, and they fought ferociously to keep their . . . puppet, so to speak . . . in the head chair of the village.”
                Silence descended upon the group as Lord Kaze Hiro swallowed and spat out the remembrance of the bad taste the actions of his own father always brought to his mouth. “It was sick, the way that . . . thing treated the villagers and greedily collected more and more of their possessions. So I vowed to fix it. As the son of the Kaze, I was a prominent presence in the military meetings and so I used that knowledge he had inadvertently given me to create an uprising among the villagers. We strategized and strategized, over and over, refining our plan, for the day we would take back the village.”
                His cruel eyes softened as they looked upon the toys littering the yards. “So many people were involved in the uprising . . . too many children got caught up in it. It gained momentum, and I couldn’t stop it. The vicious anger the people felt toward the greedy, filthy leader,” he spat, “took hold. It griped them and propelled them forward into war. My dream of overthrowing my father and gaining the leadership position of the village was fast approaching reality . . . or so I thought.”
                The motionless figures surrounding Kakashi shifted as one, as if to give Lord Kaze Hiro encouragement and strength. “It was disastrous. We . . . if we had known the outcome of our decisions, we would have done it differently and so many lives would have been spared. It was the night of the eclipse . . . we thought it was fate that the eclipse happened on the planed night. It created better coverage as we snuck across the village, hiding close to the sides of houses, our eyes fixated upon the Kaze’s quarters in the very highest part of the village. It was going so smoothly; too smoothly.”
                Lord Kaze Hiro looked directly at Kakashi and said, “There was a snitch; someone unexpected, who I had firmly believed to be on my . . . on our side of this battle. That snitch . . . was my brother; my younger brother. His job was to go ahead of us into the quarters and clear out the front rooms, so we could all convene there and split into groups to deal with the different leaders and the Kaze. But,” he took a deep breath and looked once more to the sky, the twinkling of the stars reflecting in the bottomless depths of twin brown orbs.
                “We got to the premises of the quarters and hid in the underbrush. The others were awaiting my signal. Moments passed and I felt a trickle of unease but shrugged it off as being the nerves of those surrounding me. Honestly, what did I have to be nervous about? We had planned this moment over and over, discussing every possible outcome. Taking a deep breath, I motioned to the others that it was time. We slid across the grassy opening, knowing that if even one security guard were to glance at the yard below, they would see a swarm of people in camouflage sneaking onto the premises and sound the alarm. . .”
                Kakashi stared at the Lord Kaze Hiro, his heart in turmoil over the destruction this village had been dealt and fear over the future of his life. If Sakura had been in a similar situation I would have done anything to save her. “What happened?” Kakashi asked as it seemed as if the Lord before became lost in memory.
                “It began,” he hissed. “The snitch, my own flesh and blood, had warned the guards of our coming and devised a counter plan to the one we had created together. When we entered the building that housed the quarters of the Kaze and the Lords, we were met with darkness, utter darkness and silence. We crept closer to the center of the room and, just as the last of us entered, the doors to the room slammed shut and we were surrounded. Shinobi in uniforms slithered out from behind the doors and under the furniture; weapons drawn and locked on me and my comrades.”
                Frustration and anger gripped the Lord as he clenched his fists and whispered harshly, “They grabbed one of the younger ones as hostage and demanded we drop our weapons and hand ourselves over peacefully and, if we did that, then maybe, maybe,” he spat, “the Lord Kaze would go easy on us. I had so much anger in me that I was seeing red. I clenched my weapon in my hand and took deep breaths, anything to save the boy. Just as I was preparing to drop my weapon, one of the more desperate villagers in my squad launched themselves at the guard and attempted to save the young one. . .”
                Silence hung in the air as the many possible outcomes of that situation raced through Kakashi’s mind. Lord Kaze Hiro, his head hung in regret, spoke, “Neither of them made it and thus, the fight and blood-shed began. Screams echoed throughout the room as life after life was taken that night. I still hear the screams to this day and I remember clearly the looks on my comrade’s faces as they succumbed to death.
“The fight progressed and people fled, I ordered those who were weakened or injured to flee and meet me at the stronghold. I had a mission and I was determined to fulfill it: Kill the Kaze and claim his chair as leader of the village. It was a fight to the death. He could see it on my face as I barged into his study and disrupted hisfun with his personal assistant.
“She cowered at my entrance and grabbed her clothes and ran. My father stared at me with dawning realization over my visit. He whimpered in his underwear as I steadily approached his trembling form. Holding my sword under his chin I spoke through clenched teeth, You have harmed this village enough old man. It’s time for you to pay. I killed him.”
                A maniacal laugh worked its way through the air as the Lord Kaze Hiro threw his head back and chuckled to the very sky he seemed to be fascinated with. “I killed that fool and his blood rushed down my hands as the sword sunk even further into his jugular. The warmth seeped through my gloves; I can still feel the moist rush of blood. He tried to scream. Oh did he try to scream but he couldn’t. He couldn’t let out a single sound except the gurgling of choking on his own fluid. His body gave out on him and he collapsed to the floor, urine now mixing with his blood. What an awful stench.
“It was over. It was all over . . . at least, I had thought it was all over. That bastard left behind a surprise that nobody was prepared for in the least: he had created a secret group who helped him in his shady dealings and helped the other Lords in theirs. This group, Rogue Shinobi as I later discovered they were called, was powerful. . .
                “. . . and well-hidden. It wasn’t until I was preparing to take over that they showed themselves. They created a huge riot in the center of town and started to destroy houses and kill innocent villagers. Soon, the town became dead and those of us left have hidden from this group in the mountains. We can’t return to our village and that is where you come in Kakashi, my most wonderful bodyguard. Hahaha, you are going to be so helpful in our next plan.”
                Kakashi shivered slightly at the malicious undertones to the gracious words of the Lord before him. Just what, I wonder, is he planning for me? Wearily, the silver-haired nin watched as the Lord looked at the people surrounding them and signaled with a flick of his wrist and a low whistle that descended two octaves. The figures clothed in black rippled like water and chakra increased to fill the area quickly, right before three of the figures jumped forward and shot their chakra at Kakashi.
                Unprepared for the quick attack of chakra, Kakashi tumbled to the side in a vain effort to avoid the blow. Half of the energy hit him, stunning him just long enough for four other figures to jump forward and restrain him. They held him aloft in between them, his head dangling, still dazed from the hit.
                The Lord Kaze Hiro walked up to the motionless Kakashi and grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. Kakashi groaned, his eyelids flickering as he struggled to stay conscious, and whispered, “What are you planning?” Fingers twisted in silver hair, causing a sharp in-take of breath to escape clenched teeth.
                “Oh not much,” Kaze Hiro laughed, “just the complete control of the Hidden Leaf Village and you, my dear bodyguard, are going to help with just that.” His crazed laughter once again filled the night air and Kakashi closed his eyes in dread and thought of Sakura, and her home. Never, he thought.I will never help you destroy my love’s happiness; before slipping into unconsciousness, the little doll dropping to the ground, lifeless, like the town . . . and its people.
                **************************************************************************
Seasons pass and lives move on as they evolve and become accustom to the changes that the world goes through around them. However, there are some changes that one never becomes accustomed to . . . the uncertainty of life; if a lost loved one will come back to their family, alive, or if news will arrive, instead, of loss. It’s a cycle that many never have to face; one that changes the lives of everyone who has ever had to go through the pain of uncertainty involving a loved one.
“It’s been four years Sakura,” a young blond-haired ninja spoke from the doorway as his eyes filled slightly with tears. His cerulean eyes gazed at the young woman sitting on the floor as he walked further into the room. Crouching next to the rosette and laying his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her into a light hug. Blue orbs sparkled with suppressed emotions that were still so intense after so long, their long lashes hiding the deep sadness.
“Naruto,” the young woman whispered, as she leaned into the firm chest, surrounding herself in warmth as she listened to the calming thump-thump of his heart-beat. “I know it has been such a long time now Naruto, but I can’t help . . . I can’t help but feel as if I am going to turn around and see him, smiling at me through that mask of his, his eyes crinkling with happiness. Or hear him whisper my name as we lay, side-by-side, on the bed, cuddling. I miss him so, and I can’t let go. Something is holding me back. I feel as if he is still alive out there somewhere, I just have to look.”
“Do you understand?” She murmured as she lifted her glistening jade eyes to her best friend’s face, an insuppressible warmth and sadness emanating from their depths. Lifting a slightly trembling hand, she cupped his cheek and said between trembling lips, “Even after so long I feel him with me Naruto and I just know, somehow, deep inside, that he is alive out there and is calling for my help. He needs me and I have no idea where to look. I can feel him, in here,” she placed her hand over her heart, “and I know, I just know, that I need to go, to find him. I can’t stand this Naruto, this pain. I am being drawn toward something and I just know, somehow, someway, that it is my love for him calling me.”
Naruto gripped the hand cradling his face and looked at what she had been staring at before he had entered the room: a shrine for their loved one. Many pictures and luck charms garnished the little table, candles lit in prayer each night, the wax pooling in the plates upon which they sat. It was a scene of love and longing, filling the viewer with a deep ache of grief. Looking back at his precious friend, into her drenched eyes, he whispered, “I understand Sakura, I really do.”
His memories went to that time during which Sasuke had fled the village in a quest for vengeance against his brother, and how he had had to fight, so desperately, to bring back his friend, his love, his life. He remembered the desperation that propelled him through each day and night as he was driven to save his first, and best, friend. He recounted the conflicting emotions that had torn through him when he saw his raven haired friend after having chased him for so long. It had been a battle to the death between them, he remembered, as they both struggled to one up the other one; Sasuke trying to kill Naruto and Naruto trying to open Sasuke’s eyes so he could see what was waiting him back in Konoha.
Two sets of eyes, hazy with memory, stared at the picture before them, one set filled with sadness and longing for an old friend, an old mentor, and the other filled with an overwhelming love that seemed to spill over from within. In the picture was a man in his thirties, his silver hair spiked in every direction as his eye, the one uncovered, stare off into the distance, soft in the summer light that spilled through the leaves of the tree underneath which he was sprawled, his Icha Icha Paradise book laying open on his lap.
“He looks so . . . peaceful,” Sakura whispered as she stroked her finger down the picture frame’s edge. “I want to see him, like this, again, Naruto. I want him with me, with us. I want him to come home,” she whimpered as she continued gazing lovingly at the picture before her, still hugging the blonde man beside her. Clinging to him, as if he were a lifeline, Sakura felt Naruto’s warmth and began to relax against him, her eyes dropping as she began to drift into unconsciousness.
“I know Sakura,” Naruto murmured into her hair as he rocked her back and forth. “I want him to return too, if not only for you, but for the little one,” he confessed, feeling her go lack against him, knowing that she was falling into a deep slumber, the stress of all those tears dragging her into unconsciousness.
“Sakura,” he whispered, then continued when she murmured yes into his shoulder, “I promise you, I promise every one of us, that I will bring him back. I will find him, Sakura; I will find him and return him to you, and to your son. Trust me, and pray for the best, because I won’t stop until I find him and you know I never go back on my word.” He saw her smile slightly, and the flash of her green eyes as she closed them, her breath evening out in sleep, with a murmured, thank you, into his neck.
Holding her close, Naruto continued to stare at the shrine for their loved one, his eyes shining with determination. Holding his fist out, arm straight, he tilted his head forward as he swore a promise to the spirit of the man in the picture, “I will find you Kakashi-sensei. I will find you . . . and I will save you!”
**************************************************************************
“Sasuke! Sasuke!” a little voice yelled from across the room as a raven haired man contemplated the contraption before him. It was nearing the Christmas season and he was trying to figure out how to put together the portable training dummy that he bought for the owner of the voice behind him. Sighing in silent defeat, for now, the young man dropped the pieces he had been smashing together in his hands in a last, desperate attempt to make them fit, I know these go together! Damn the instructions, he thought and turned around, smiling at the sight before him.
                “Obito,” he laughed, “what have you gotten yourself into little one?” He crossed the room and crouched down before the little boy, staring at the long white-button-up shirt he had entangled himself into. It looked as if he had slipped the already buttoned shirt on and went on a spinning spree around the house, the arms wrapping around him, buttons becoming snagged on other buttons. Chuckling deeply, Sasuke’s opal eyes sparkled with laughter as he reached out and tickled the little one, marveling, even after all this time, at the beauty of a child’s smile as Obito giggled.
                “I wanted to look like Uncle Sasuke!” The child proclaimed as he watched the man he admired deftly untangle him from the mess he had inadvertently found himself in. Obito fidgeted as Sasuke slid the buttons though the holes holding them together in order to peel the separate ends apart, unwrapping the little boy before him. Lifting the shirt, he slid it off those little shoulders. “Uncle Sasuke?”
                “Yes little one?” Sasuke asked as he stood and moved to put the shirt into the laundry room, which was situated right off the kitchen in the two floor house that he and Naruto shared. Sasuke walked into the room and shook his head in light exasperation upon seeing orange clothes strewn all across the floor. “Dope,” he laughed lightly under his breath as he bent down to pick up the abandoned clothes, his eyes soft as he thought about the love of his life. Pulling the clothes into his chest, he stood with them clutched in his fingers and moved onto the next bundle of clothes on the floor.
                “Where is Daddy?” The question stopped the raven-haired shinobi cold as he held the clothes tightly against his chest. What do I say? The urge to cry was strong but he held it in as he continued with his task of picking up after his messy lover. Sorting the clothes into piles of coordinating colors, he mentally scrambled to think of how to answer the little one. Where do I begin? Do I tell him the truth? Do I lie? Oh Kami, why me? Sakura! What would she want to tell him? The many questions running though his head began to blur as he struggled to determine what exactly he should say to the little one behind him.
                “Uncle,” Obito persisted as he walked further into the room. His jade eyes, so like his mothers, peering out from the fringe of silver hair that he had inherited from his father. Those bright, inquisitive eyes watched his uncle’s movements as the older man shifted through the piles of clothes and placed those that were the color orange into the washer situated in the corner of the room. The little one’s lower lip began to tremble as silence met his inquiry once again. Shifting his gaze to the back of his uncle’s head he whimpered, “Uncle?”
                Sasuke heard the tremor in Obito’s voice, the tell-tale sign that the little one was close to crying, and heaved an inner sigh at the dilemma that was facing him right now. Measuring out the laundry detergent, Sasuke dumped the contents of the measuring cup into the bowl of the machine and turned the knob to ‘large load’ before pressing the start button. Turning around, his opal eyes sought those of his nephews, which were now filled with tears. “Oh little one, don’t cry,” Sasuke pleaded as he rushed to Obito’s side and picked him up, walking them both back to the living room, stepping over the random pieces of the training dummy that he had given up on . . . for the moment.
                Rubbing the thin back of the young boy in soothing circles, Sasuke whispered, “I don’t know where your Daddy is little one. He went on a very important mission before you were born. It was a very dangerous mission, and we have been hoping and praying for his safe return ever since then. But don’t worry little one, I am sure, that one day, he will return, he has to, because how else will he get to meet his son?” Sasuke smiled into jade eyes that stared back at him wide-eyed.
                Obito smiled and nuzzled his head onto Sasuke’s shoulder. “Okay Uncle Sasuke,” he murmured as he drifted into a light sleep. Sasuke held the little boy closer as he stared into nothing-ness, his heart clenching at the hope he had given the boy, wishing desperately that it wouldn’t prove to be false. “Please, let him return to us,” Sasuke whispered as he closed his eyes in prayer for the return of his former sensei, his father figure.
**************************************************************************
                Deep underground, in the depths of an unknown mountain, a group of ninja made their home, living in the dark, dank earth. Long ago, during a civil unrest, they had lost their home to a rebellion that had mixed with hate in the hearts of the small, unknown village’s citizens. It had spilled over, festering as they were lead down a destructive path of lies and deception, almost delirious in their desire to overthrow their Kaze, the village leader. They strategized in groups plans to create a ‘better and more peaceful’ life for all of them.
They finally implemented their plans, but they were deceived by someone whom they had had complete faith in . . . their leader’s brother, Tomohiro. There were casualties to the brutal battle that followed the failure of their plan. However, they were able to pull through, seeing their desire to overthrow the Kaze come true. But upon reaching that desire, their world fell apart. A series of betrayals followed and had led to their flight to a secret underground cavern they had been using for their meetings before the war that wiped out their village.
                Their leader, Kaze Hiro, had created a plan, one of many that would lead to a new and better place for the villagers, those who still lived. As he fine-tuned the plan, the villagers banded together to create a better living arrangement under those mountains. But, as they worked tirelessly, day after day, with very few materials they never lost hope for a life without festering diseases from the wild animals inhabiting their living area which consisted of the musty air from the moisture drenched soil that created their floor and their ceiling.
A life in which rats didn’t inhabit every corner, burrowing small tunnels into the dirt, creating their own families, living off of the few crumbs of food that per chance fell to the cavern’s floor. A life where filth coated articles of clothing weren’t the only things protecting them from the damp earth and the too cool atmosphere as the season of autumn faded into winter’s harsh hold or from the misting of the thick air in the underground cavern that occasionally occurred when the weather above groud was dreary and wet.
It was a constant battle the villagers faced against the elements of Mother Nature. Wooden structures were erected to create housing for the families, hoping to create a semblance of privacy and to help protect against the adverse conditions. They improvised, making their clothes from random pieces of cloth that they procured from different areas in the village before their move underground. They patched pieces together, it didn’t matter if it matched, all that mattered to them was whether or not it fit decently enough to protect them, even if only a little, from the elements.
They learned to eat whatever they found, grass, leaves from the trees and wild animals that happened to fall into the many traps that they set in hopes of having meat for a change. Hunger began to eat at them, they didn’t starve but they did have a constant ache in their stomachs from the malnutrition from which they suffered. Though, there were those who suffered from it in more severe cases . . . they were the adults. All the adults in the village would ration down their food to the most minimal amount in order to give that much more to the children.
A school was erected in the far corner of the cavern to teach the children the necessities of life, such as reading and writing. They were taught battle strategies and how to perform jutsu under adverse conditions. They were being molded into, not only model citizens, but effective and powerful shinobi. The people of the unknown village were creating an army.
                It was a bustling underground city that, despite the friendliness of the people, was secretive and dangerous. The atmosphere was heavy, not only from the environment but from the strangling emotions that emitted from each individual, creating a suppressing mixture of hate, vengeance and a burning desire for change, no matter what the cost. It was a stifling milieu . . . one from which everyone prayed escape, one day.
                This was where their leader came in, Kaze Hiro, the new village leader. He was the son of the previous leader, a fearsome shinobi who felt the village was being wronged by the man who he was supposed to call ‘father’ and a strong leader who roused the village into action to stop the destructive vices of their leader. The past shaped their future subtly; in such a way that it haunted their present:
Sunlight streamed down upon the bustling village, sparkling on the morning dew sitting on the grass and leaves of the trees. Birds chirped in the air as they flew over the village, their shadows roaming the ground beneath them, over the houses, the shops and the people.
It was a peaceful village, with children squealing in fun and adults chattering away with friends as they do the everyday tasks of shopping for dinner or buying supplies to mend their houses and clothes. It was an ordinary village, an ordinary day filled with ordinary people.
There was the shop keeper setting out new goods, the old lady who sold flowers on the street corner, a smile permanently on her face and the shinobi officer who patrols the streets every morning with a greeting on his face for everyone who passes. And, like every other day in this unknown, yet similar to every other, village, the leader strolled the streets, overseeing the peace and happiness of his people.
However, something new happens on this particular day. The Kaze, the leader, doesn’t smile his congenial smile like usual but, instead, a ghost of a smile graces his lips, one that seems, if looked at close enough, slightly cruel. There had been changes in the Kaze, changes that most didn’t notice, but there was one individual who, having lived under the same house as the Kaze since birth, noticed, noticed and felt uneasy under the changes that seemed to be subtly taking place in the village head.
This individual . . . was his son, Hiro. Hiro stood in the shadows of the okinomiyaki stand, staring at his father as he walked down the street. Father has changed, Hiro thought, and not for the better. I have to do something, confront him . . . or . . . something . . . something . . . something . . . something . . .
                        The past echoed in Hiro’s head as he leaned his chin against his hand, staring at the map on the wall before him. It had been almost five years since the hostile take-over of the former Kaze. Closing his eyes, Hiro sighed deeply before standing, his brown eyes once more trained on the map as he steadily walked toward it. It was a map of the great nations and beside it was a larger map of non-other than the Hidden Leaf Village and its surrounding foliage. All over the map were notes, information on specific places and people of the village. Trailing one finger on a bright red line that twines around and among the streets of the village, Hiro opened his mouth and whispered, “It’s almost time.”
                A knock at the door brought the Kaze back from his mulling. “Come in,” he said, his attention still focused on the map before him, eyes still slightly dazed from his reminiscing of the past. The door opened slowly revealing a masked shinobi who entered and kneeled before the Kaze.
                “Kaze, permission to speak,” the shinobi inquired of his leader, his head bowed toward the ground. Silence permeated the room after his question, creating a void, devoid of all sound. From out of no-where the sound of rustling papers was heard and then the scrapping of a chair. “Permission granted,” a grave whisper came from the Kaze, who was now sitting at the small table.
                “Shinobi number 35 has been successfully woven into the lives of Konoha villagers and has sent his first report,” the shinobi started, holding up the folder he had been holding in his hand. Putting it back down on the floor he continued, “The reconnaissance team situated on the borders of the Village Hidden in the Leaves is stabilized; everything is going according to schedule my lord. However, others and I fear that our . . . guest . . . may not last too much longer. Doctor Ren has been to see him and suggests that we . . . procure better facilities in which to let him live. That is all, my lord.”
                Nodding his head, Hiro murmured, “Dismissed,” and watched as the shinobi raised himself off the floor, striding forward to place the folder on the desk before disappearing quietly, the door shutting silently behind him. Moments passed as he stared at the folder before him, fingers folded under his chin. Heaving a sigh, he reached for the folder and opened it to the first stapled page, eyes widening slightly at the message before him.
                “Infiltration has been successful and I have completely ingrained myself in the lives of those closest to the Hokage. Attached is a schedule of what she can usually be seen doing and a list of the people that she trusts the most. I have been taken into their confidence this past year, they are extremely trusting. Another piece of information that seems appropriate to let you know about is that it seems our guest has a son. One who, after extreme investigation, appears to be unknown to the father. I looked at birth records and, if calculations are correct, then the child was conceived around the time of our guest’s disappearance for our mission. I have made copies and placed them in the file as well. I will let the rest of my notes reveal what else I have seen. I just wanted to draw special attention to the son. A parting note, I believe that we can implement our plan . . . soon. Farewell, Father.”
                “Well this is interesting, to say the least,” he murmured as a slightly insane gleam twinkled from his eye. He began to chuckle, under his breath at first but then it became a deep laugh, from the gut, filling the room until it could even be heard from deep within the compound . . . the echoes of a mad man.
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

My Soul (sequel to My Heart)