Naruto 1. A New Beginning

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_"Life sucks, and then you die"_

_\- Stephanie Meyer_

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I remember being surrounded by motivational help posters as a voice of honey drawled on and on. The sounds of a sharp heel clacked back and forth in a rhythmic state. My hands gripped the arms of the chair so strongly that my knuckles would start to prove pristine white. My heart attacked my rib cage in a fury of beats.

I remember thinking back on this practically one-sided conversation as I made one mistake after the other. Mistakes that would inevitably lead to a demise. _My _demise.

_You choose what happens to you._

Was that… True?

In retrospect, it was _my _decision to wander the dangerous streets at nights. And we all know that wandering purposeless could only bring despair… And despair it brought.

_Keep your head down and your nose clean._

The darkness could only be quenched by the bar at the end of the block, screaming with color and life. Through the dark of night, it proved to be my beacon of hope.

My mind a battleground, my heart of longing, my lungs suffocating in despair. I'd never meant any trouble, but does anyone really…?

I'd hoped that just one drink would drive away the darkness within me.

_I won__'__t tell you that you can do whatever you put your mind to, because, you just can__'__t. _

But one wasn't enough, one would _never _be enough. If I kept going, surely the light would shine through?

So I continued, drowning my sorrows away in a futile attempt to see the light within myself once more. And futile it was… As I continued to sink deeper and deeper and _deeper. _

Yes, I chose this. I chose to go stumbling around in the streets in the pitch blackness of night.

_But if you focus and stick to yourself, surely something positive will come from your efforts._

Blindly, the darkness led me through alleyways and clumsily over fences. They led me to knives and guns and bloodied mistakes. Struggling screams of mercy and my old friend _despair. _

My sorrows were never far away, a constant whisper forceful enough to stop me whilst in a sluggish movement.

A whisper which turned into a voice which turned into a yell which morphed into a _scream. _

_Just remember__…_

Sickening crunches of bones and skin breaking filled the once silent night. A bottle tumbled from my nimble fingers.

I screamed, blood spewing from my vocal chords. I screamed for the bottle. I screamed at the men. I screamed for my sorrows residing in the bottle. I screamed because they were about to tumble out…

As the bottle of despair shattered… So did a heart.

_Curiosity killed the cat__…_

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_._

Everything was dark.

Everything was silent.

For a long time, everything I saw, everything I heard… It all matched up with what I was on the inside.

I don't just how much time passed. Minutes, hours, days, weeks, it could've even been years. Maybe it was just one second.

But one is never quite enough.

My mind stirred, becoming restless and anxious. The darkness creeped on my soul, filling me with irrational worries that began to seem more and more rational each passing— second, day?

Then the questions started to attack.

_Where am I?_

_ Why is it so dark here, why is it always so dreadfully dark..?_

_ Am I dead?_

_._

_ Is this Hell?_

But this couldn't be Hell, I'd tell myself, because if I were in Hell then surely I would feel something?

Part of me thought that even Hell had to be better than just sitting in this overpowering darkness. It had to be more satisfying than waiting all alone…

.

More time passed, and most of the questions left me to rot. All except for one, one held my soul with its constant whispering.

_Who am I?_

_. _

_Am I__… __real?_

_._

I tried to whisper back, sometimes. I tried to yell. _I tried to scream. _I would do anything to fill the daunting cloud of silence that hung in the blackness.

But the silence was stronger.

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The darkness is beginning to fold around me, cling to me. It brings me warmth, and a sense of comfort— if I pretend it's a hug.

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I can't quite remember any color besides the one that consumes me. What did they call it… Black. Yeah, black.

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When things got bad in life, we could wish for death. But what can you wish for when things get bad in death..?

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A voice in my head laughs. I fear it knows something that I don't.

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I remember shards of glass, and I hear maniacal voices of pure glee. It brings back a feeling that I'd thought was long forgotten.

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I wonder… had my previous dwelling just been a bunch of pictures and colors and words strewn together? Had all of the people just been something I made up? Life is but a dream…

.

Just when I think the darkness has started to suffocate me, my world explodes in color and sound. Voices pound against my eardrums, and a heart thumps in my skull. I open my mouth and hear the air as I gulp it down thankfully.

Skinny, frail arms hold me to their chest. The colors of the world swirl and blur until beginning to focus. My sight hurts the way they would when looking out upon a desert of snow.

But I see through the pain, and my eyes focus.

The frail arms belong to a woman, a woman of snow and of beauty. She radiates weakness and exhaustion, but manages to smile and utter one single word.

"Yukine."

Is that… Who I am?

_… __But satisfaction brought it back._

* * *

_A/N_

_Okay, I told myself I wouldn't write this, but it's been nagging at me for a really long time. So here it is._

_This is a reincarnation __fic, if this chapter does seem a little... insane. And it'll be a male OC._

_I can tell you right now that this won't be a happy story where the OC jumps right into the plot with all of the good characters and decides to change everything for the better. Especially considering the things I'll be putting this OC through. We'll get to see just how hard it truly would be to survive in this world._

_But, anyway, I'll probably only actually continue this story if I get a review or follows/favorites. If I know someone's interested in this story, I'll really work hard to get chapters out. _

_See ya :)_


	2. Familiarity

_"Italics" - English_

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_"If opportunity doesn't knock, build a door"_

_\- Milton Berie_

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I was selfish.

But, you see, I was just so, _so _ecstatic to be out of the black nothing. My heart thumped of glorious life and my eyes witnessed everything around me. From the mossy life-filled leaves that would sway in the breeze to the golden sunflowers the white beauty planted in the garden.

Everything just shone with beauty and color— _so much color. _

So I couldn't bring myself to be upset. I couldn't bring myself to grieve the life I once lived. How could I possibly mourn people who's faces have long faded from my memory?

I couldn't.

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Being a baby was an exhilarating and utterly frustrating experience. It's no wonder we all forget the first time around, it was disturbing and irrelevant enough to simply disappear from our memories forever.

Though, I admit that my time as an infant was definitely a refreshing experience. I felt free of all responsibility and stress. All I had to do was giggle crazily and gurgle out sounds to please my caretaker. They took care of everything else; feeding me, playing with me, and carrying me out under the lustrous sun.

However, a little bit of bad always seemed to slip into the good. While being free of responsibility was peachy, being _so _dependent on one person could become frustrating at times.

Especially since I had next to no clue what she said all the time.

That is just my luck, to be reborn to a place where they speak a language foreign to me. That means I'm going to have to push myself to learn yet another language. It couldn't even be the language I'd been learning in high school. Not that I was ever that great at learning, but my point still stands.

However, I quickly learned that the language my mother always spoke was Japanese, and I quickly went back to being grateful. I'd been a complete anime geek in the past life, and there were some bits and phrases that would strike me with familiarity. Not to mention the fact that I'm probably in _Japan, _the haven for all anime geeks.

Not to mention nearly any voice sounded extravagant when voicing Japanese, and listening to my mom talk all day definitely wasn't very hard at all. Her voice was soft, and every time you heard it you were torn between falling asleep and swooning as platonically as possible.

Life was good.

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Time lapsed on grudgingly, but in the best way possible. My mother was astonishing; what with her shimmering white mane and her dark eyes that always sparked when I came into view. She never left my side, not for minute. She took me out to the garden with her, and would laugh a melody whenever I tried smelling the roses or splashing at the watering can. I would accompany her on her daily errands that would include tasks such as buying groceries and just walking in the blistering light. She even had me right next to her when she set upon painting our house a midnight blue, and when I'd douse my fingers in and attempt to help, she'd just smile like an angel and say, "Good, Yukine."

But, you see, _I was always there. _We'd be on our daily errands, and old women would flock to me, pinching my cheeks and patting the fluff one called my hair. But instead of soaking up the compliments and bathing me in glory, my mother would flinch away, and widen her shoulders in an attempt to block me from sight.

When we went to the park, I would gaze out at the caffeinated children about the play-set or stuck in the sandbox. The women, supposedly the mothers, would go off to the several benches, looking heated as they hashed out the newest gossip. But my mother and I would sit off on our own creaky wooden bench, practically separated from the world. As if we were merely observers. The women would glance over at us warily, as if we'd break or murder any second.

As for the children, they were once ignorant of our presence, but then a young girl wanted to come and coo at me. She'd skipped over, very flamboyant and joyous, and she'd reached towards me, but before she could so much as invade my personal bubble, my mother's hand had locked around the girl's wrist.

From that day on we became shunned yet feared. The children would glance over at us with a haggard look, and the mothers would cluck at us in shame. It perturbed me much more than it bothered my mother. Whereas I would still flinch at every hated glance, my mother had bones of steel. She was the perfect image of originality and grace. She took their hate by teaspoon, and disregarded it completely.

And that's how my jealousy for the woman who conceived me began.

But you see, it wasn't the envy that brought on a new curiosity in my budding life. My envy was nearly crushed with an entrance of a man. A man with a scarred face so deep it hit his soul.

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The seemingly normal day began in a seemingly abnormal way. Upon waking me up, my mother scrummaged around in a bunch of my baby clothes, rejecting one after the other. Of course, this only led to my room becoming a war zone. But my mother was undeterred due to the finding of an all black onesie with a hood.

She quickly put me in the outfit, yanking on my arm or leg a time or two. (To which I hissed in ungratefulness) I was close to having a tantrum just to show my dislike towards her brief hostility, but was frozen in my plan when I saw her wearing a nervous smile. Not one that held queasiness, but one that held a beaming joy. It's an expression I had failed to see on her face before, it held an emotion I'd never seen her express.

My mother, nervous? Preposterous. My mother was as tough as nails, she didn't get nervous.

And yet…

I was carried out to the living room, and my mother abandoned me on the floor with my toys. I watched as she flocked around, tidying up things that already seemed clean enough, and beginning to prepare something in the kitchen.

"…Kaa-chan?" I questioned sluggishly. I was still getting used to the foreign language, even if I was getting quite good at calling her.

She continued to work, completely ignorant to my presence. A question mark filled my head. She _always _responded to me. One peep from me, and she'd be at my side, making sure I was alright.

"Kaa-chan," I tried again, much more clearly this time. Again, she continued to bounce around the house, beginning to act like a toddler anticipating a play date. I huffed in indignation. I always had her utmost attention, what was going on?

"_Kaa-chan!__" _I pushed out, clear and concise. She froze in her place, and stared over at me. It was as if she was just now remembering that I was here. She fluttered over to me, plopping me off the ground and into her arms.

"Oh, Yukine, we're preparing for someone, we have to have patience," she murmured, ruffling my hair and planting a kiss on my cheek. I giggled to please her, but was already beginning to analyze what she'd just revealed. A guest? Here? No, impossible. While I wasn't sure how much time has passed since this new life, I knew it had to have been awhile. In all of that time, my mother hasn't even spoken of anyone else, let alone had someone over.

Not even my father. Barely a toddler, and I already knew that asking about him would become heavily taboo.

My thoughts were interrupted by an abrupt knock on our cottage door. My mother froze in her path, and immediately redirected to the door. I swear it was the fastest I'd ever seen her long, elegant legs move.

I toppled over, and tried to pull myself across the wooden floorboards. I wanted to see who this mysterious stranger was as soon as possible, and yet I also wanted to hide. (Then I could get to see them before they could see me, and there was no greater advantage than that.)

Thinking on my feet (well, butt technically), I rolled myself the distance to the kitchen, and then slipped under the short table. (We had a small one that often reminded me of my past childhood days, but I assumed they were the norm for everyone in this country.)

"Oh, Yuki-chan is growing up _so _fast, he's slowly becoming the handsome man he's bound to be!" my mother swooned as I saw two sets of feet enter my view. One pair was my mother's paper white baby feet, and the other large, sandal-covered tan feet. The sandals reminded me of something, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"I'm sure, Nao," a deep voice murmured, chuckling slightly. I perked slightly at the sound of my mother's name, but made sure to keep myself silent. Looking back, I was a fool to think that the thing to give me away would be sound.

"Yukine! Where'd you go? The big bad man isn't here to hurt you," she projected, laughing at her own joke. I saw her feet approach the table, and I held my breath. She circled the table twice, before skipping off in a different direction.

I exhaled, beaming at my own victory. However, my victory was rudely squashed within a millisecond. Strong hands wove themselves around my torso, and I was yanked from my safe haven. The man spun me in the air, dizzying me before resting me in his arms.

It took a moment for my blurred vision to recover, and my eyes slowly began to focus on the face of my captor.

I saw a stable man with long dark hair pulled up in a pineapple fashion. I saw tan skin that marked a roadmap to a long, prosperous life. I saw seemingly bored eyes that still managed to conceal a glimmer of interest deep within. But it wasn't the minuscule features that I focused on first. What really drew in my interest were the deep scars painted across his face. They were so gruesome and so intricate that I thought there was no way they could be real.

Small hands met rough marks, and it was probably the most detailed thing I'd laid hands on in this life thus far. My eyes flickered between the rough marks and the soft eyes. How could something so rough be associated with eyes so soft?

And then memories of a life once forgotten decided to visit.

Suddenly this man looked all too familiar in an unfamiliar way. I saw happiness turned to angst, and so _so _much yellow that I swear I'd never be able to look at the sun the same way again.

I jerked my hand away from the man, considering my two options.

Either my mother had some crazy cosplayers for friends, or… No, there's just no way.

"Yukine, meet Shikaku! He's an old friend of mine," my mother spoke, breaking the long silence that had been full of my inquisitions of the man. Shikaku.

_Shikaku Nara. _

My eyes widened, my familiarity finally clearing in the distance.

_"__There__'__s no way__… __There__'__s just no way! This can__'__t be happening to me, this can__'__t be happening__…" _I murmured, my former language feeling like an old friend on my tongue. I broke out in uncontrollable sobs, and my mom rushed me out of the man's arms, and into her familiar frail comfort.

I hid my face in her neck, praying with every ounce of my being that when I resurfaced the man would be gone. However, my patience betrayed me, and I peeked too soon. Perhaps if I'd hid awhile longer, the man would've vanished. But I make a habit to let my curiosity betray me.

* * *

_A/N_

_Hello there!_

_I'm really sorry about taking so long, but I've been very stressed about my classes, and well, procrastination. But I'm doing my best to pull through for you guys. Also, now that we're getting into the normal chapters, I have a few questions for all of you._

_1) Do you guys like about these length of chapters? Be honest, but also don't be unreasonable :)_

_2) Do you guys want a small time-skip or would you rather I drag through the childhood days awhile longer, with the occasional surprise? _

_And, now a question just for fun. I want to get to know my amazing readers so I can see what you guys want!_

_3) What characters do you hope to see in this story?_

_See you guys soon, hopefully!_


	3. The Eyes Of A Snake

_"Quotated italics" - _Talking in English

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We were seated on the plush couch, my mom and the strange man sitting next to each other, with me on my mom's lap, facing the man in a frozen pout. He held my evil eye, and for a moment the laziness transferred into something more analytical, something judging my every move. However, it faded back into a blissful brown with a loud yawn and a hearty stretch.

"He always this serious?" Shikaku questioned, scratching the back of his head calmly. I sneered, picking up on his gesture to me. He comes into my home, where things had been going _lovingly_ naive mind you, and he expects me to be cool with him?

"Yuki-chan knows when to observe, but he's just shy in the face of new company, isn't that right?" my mom cooed, leaning down to kiss my cheek at her exclamation. I fought the urge to giggle childishly, as I normally would, and maintained my stony expression. Shikaku rose a black eyebrow at me.

"It's as if he could be an Uchiha," he muttered, folding is hands behind his head and leaning into the cushioned back. The atmosphere tightened, my mother's emotional state deepening as she gripped me tighter in her arms.

"He'd be better off as one," she pronounced stoically, and I could almost feel her eyes become cold.

"Well, he could never really pull it off with that white hair of his," Shikaku murmured, consoling my mother with the warmth in his eyes and the adoration in the sound of his voice.

They spoke for awhile more, with Shikaku managing to ignore my gaze the whole time. (The bastard.) However, with the conversation dying out due to the loud growling of stomachs, my mother opted out and began preparing dinner. Which, I would have completely supported this decision had my mother _not left me on the couch. _

Well, technically speaking, I _could _walk over to my mother. She knows it, I know it. But I don't exactly have that much energy stocked up in the motivation department. (A more technical way of saying I'm lazy, but I don't dwell on it.) Which means that I have to stay here in the small time it takes her to cook a meal, and either hold a conversation with this guy or continue to give him my look of disdain.

"What's with the scar, buddy?" I blurt, leaning forward to gaze at it.

"_Yukine! _Don't be rude!" my mother gasped, swooping in to deliver a swat on the back of my head. I cried out, cocooning my head between my knees and covering my hands over my head.

Who ever said tornado drill positions would never come in handy?

"Nao, it's fine. I suppose I'll enlighten this little brat," he muttered, stretching his limbs before getting comfortable again.

"Hey! No brat!" I yell, remembering to cut my words in order to seem more like the illiterate child I should be. He chuckled lowly.

"You want to know or not, kid?" he questioned flippantly. I let out a small 'humph!' while crossing my arms in a pout, but I said nothing more. I'd forgotten how he got that gem, and I could use all of the information I could get. (Now that I was trapped in this messed up world.)

"I guess you could say I got cut deep and then it scarred because that's the way of life," he uttered, and I nearly fell off of the couch.

"Well, you're not wrong," I murmured, glaring him down with all of my little toddler might. If he keeps this attitude up, he may push me to actually walk to the kitchen. I went to ask him again, but was poorly interrupted.

"Dinner's ready! Yukine, come help my dish the plates out," my mother called, filling me back up with positive energy. (She was a miracle worker, that one.) I jumped up, firing one last glance at Shikaku that suggested that this certainly wasn't over and he certainly hadn't won.

Soon, the table was set and we were back in the same awkward position that we had all started in. I was seated (kneeling) on one side of the table next to my mother, and Shikaku was seated across from us. Shikaku dug in without a second thought, immediately savoring my mother's delicious food.

"You're still as good as I remember, Nao, Choza will be disappointed he couldn't dine with us," Shikaku sighed out between bites, giving my mother an appraising smile. There it was again, Shikaku and my mom were on first name basis. No honorific or anything. I turned a wary eye on my mom (I didn't see how Shikaku caught on to the action with analytical eyes). How do they know each other? Well, I mean, my mom _could _be- No, no, preposterous. She's as civilian as they come.

"Oh, thank you! It really has been quite awhile since I've seen everyone…" she trailed off, pausing mid bite as her eyes became glassy and far away.

Shikaku says nothing in return, letting the awkward tension boil in the thin air. I shift awkwardly, using my stubby fingers to pile food into my mouth. I keep the two adults close in my peripheral vision, pondering their actions.

There had always been a perfected grace about my mother, sure, but it had never occurred to me that she was anything above the ordinary.

_Then again, that was _before _Shikaku strut in here and showed me what I was dealing with when it came to something other than the ordinary._

That brings another thing to question, why was he here? I turn my gaze to him cautiously, careful not to meet his eyes. We weren't in Konoha, and as far as I knew we probably weren't in the Fire country either. And the thought that my mother had formed connections (_first _name basis) with not only Shikaku, well, it could've never happened if they had just been passing through some civilian town and happened upon my mother.

Which automatically meant that my mother had lived in Konoha once upon a time.

I lowered my eyes, squinting at the abundance of food around me. Nothing added up. Assuming my mother was a civilian didn't really add up into a puzzle-perfect picture. I severely doubted that a civilian would ever leave the safe haven known as Konoha. From what I knew, Konoha was more of a destination rather than a flee-zone. I couldn't see why anyone would ever want to leave that home of abundance; what with the shinobi protection, colorful shops, education options, job openings…

But if she wasn't a civilian than the only other default would be ninja. And if she'd lived the shinobi for Konoha, than being anywhere else could only mean that she'd gone rogue. And I _don't think that would work out quite right considering one of Konoha's finest sat calmly eating my mother's Basashi_—

"Yuki-chan, is everything alright?" my mother's voice questioned, awakening me from my pestering thoughts. I choked on my breath, realizing that my breathing had begun to escalate in speed as my thoughts had grown more and more frustrated.

"Sorry, Kaa-chan," I murmured, offering up a charismatic smile to sate her worried gaze. I didn't even spare a glance at Shikaku, knowing that he'd probably still have that analytical gaze, and that it would probably be directed at me.

"You've barely touched your food, that's not like you," she pointed out, biting her lip thoughtfully (it was something she did when she was worried, I'd realized over time).

"M'not hungry," I chirped out. "Excused?"

"Okay…" she said softly. Her face took on a small smile. "I can tell you story when I meet you in your room?"

I nodded eagerly, before scurrying to my feet and practically sprinting out of sight. However, I didn't go far, and as soon as I was out of speculation range, I promptly leaned against the wall and prepared to eavesdrop.

Shikaku would doubtlessly sense my presence hovering so close, but I hoped he'd be too lazy to point it out.

"He's an interesting one, definitely yours," Shikaku uttered, likely deciding to pretend I was out of earshot. I bristled, wondering if I should take that as an insult, but I calmed at the small laugh my mother made.

"He's a darling, on his way to becoming my pride and joy…" my mother said, and I could feel the sad smile in her voice. Sad?

"Perhaps I should go," he sighed, big and hearty as if trying to exhale all of his problems in life. "I know how hard this is for you."

"Sometimes the hardest things in life are the ones that are especially necessary," she muttered bitterly. There was a light clambering sound of people getting to their feet.

"I'll be back tomorrow with my team, I hope there won't be too much of a fuss from him," Shikaku said, sounding insensitive. Then there was a soft close of a door, and he was gone.

I turned and sprinted for my bedroom.

The next morning begins with rays of sunlight sneaking through my curtains, and I immediately regret not treasuring my mother's boisterous energy from the morning prior.

Awaking from my slumber, my eyes focus on her feminine form fluttering around my bedroom, from the closet to the dresser to the bag she has set up on the floor. I squint in the dim lighting, trying to figure out just what she was up to today. Two years (nearly three?) in this world with her as my caretaker and we've had nearly all quiet, blissful days… Until yesterday. I can't possibly fathom the odds of having two less than calm days.

"Yuki-chan? Are you up already?" a soft melody of a voice interrupts my observation, and I turn my eyes to face dark brown.

Her eyes are crowded with all of the emotions in the atmosphere; grief, heartache, and anything even remotely related to sadness. I'm not sure what has her so grim, and it's starting to unnerve me.

"Kaa-chan? What doing?" I question, glancing down at the bag hesitantly before meeting her eyes again. If possible her eyes darkened with sorrow even further.

"You're going away to a new, beautiful home. A place with lots of cherry blossoms and parks for you to play in and make friends," she responded sullenly, turning her back to me and continuing to pack a small back pack.

My heart constricts, and my stomach drops. I slide out of my bed and walk over to her, standing behind her, where she's on her knees hunched over the contents she's focused on packing. I see most of my clothes in the bag, the only one left out is the black jumpsuit from the day before, right next to a new pair of open toed black sandals that I haven't seen before.

I trot over to where the contents are laying on the floor. I slip my favorite black jumpsuit on, before grabbing ahold of the shoes with my grubby hands.

"_I'm not coming back, am I…" _I mutter in my native tongue, squeezing the shoes in my hand.

"Yukine? What was that?" she asks me, looking over inquisitively. I let out a sniffle in response.

The shoes I'd had before had been meant for play, maybe a walk to the park. These new shoes were durable, ready for long journeys in which you make yourself. The new shoes are no coincidence.

"Coming with?" I asked her, turning to look back into her entrancing eyes.

She bites her lip, the first sign that things aren't at all okay. I drop the shoes, and run over to her as fast as any little kid could move. She embraces me, and stands with me cocooned in her arms. My face nestles into her chest, hands gripping her seams.

"I'm afraid this is one journey you'll have to make without me, Yuki-chan," she murmurers into my hair. I nestle deeper, tightening my grip.

There is a soft knock at the door, just loud enough that I could hear it as well as my mother. Thankfully my mother doesn't return me to the ground, but she does pick up the backpack she spent all morning packing, and start heading out to answer the knock. I shove my face into her, not wanting to look at who will inevitably be there.

My mom opens the door, and I don't have to look to guess who it is.

"Is he ready?" a deep voice drawls. I feel my mom's free hand tangle in my hair, stroking my scalp in a way to calm me down, maybe calm herself down too.

"He's all packed and I got him ready," my mom answers. The vibrations of her voice sound like a symphony from where my head rests at her chest.

"Are you ready though, Nao?" he says, his voice softening as I feel his presence take a step closer.

My mom inches me away from where I was nestled, lowering me until my feet feel the floor. I glance up at her face, where she's slapped on an emotionless mask, even her eyes have gone void of any feelings.

"Yukine, go wait outside with my team. Your mother and I will go find those shoes I'm sure she forgot in the house somewhere," Shikaku conveys, his eyes softening upon meeting my gaze. I don't even have the heart to argue with the man.

I walk out the door, past Shikaku, and I hear him shut it as soon as I'm out.

Standing in front of me are three teenagers, two boys and a girl; all of whom look more than vaguely familiar.

The girl is decked out in a red color scheme that compliments the color of her eyes, and make her pale skin and dark hair even more striking (but endearing all the same). She's smiling softly at me, her eyes telling me that the smile is genuine.

The paler of the two boys has a feature that immediately draws my curiosity; a clunky scar that looks like someone sowed part of his face up in some twisted ritual. Everything else about him seems textbook and uninteresting.

The last of the three is the tannest of the bunch, with dark eyes that glint with something I simply can't name.

_Blood everywhere. Sword to the chest. Sorrow. Tears. Blood-blood-blood-blood. Lifeless eyes that will never ever see again. Dead-dead-dead-dead-dead- Someone save him oh god its too late he's dead gone-gone-gone—-_

"Hello. Yukine, is it? I'm Kurenai," the girl speaks, bringing me out of the vision. I blink rapidly a few times, shaking my head as if to shake off what I'd imagined. (_Pretending I had an overactive imagination was easier than accepting the truth. Forgetting fate became a game I knew all too well._)

"I'm Raido," scarface introduced himself, offering me a small but businesslike smile. I nod at him.

"I'm Asuma," the third drawls, and I can feel the smile in his voice even though I don't look, _won't _look_._

The door reopens, and I turn expecting my mother, but it's just Shikaku. Any excitement I'd had was quickly deflated and I slumped a little bit where I stood.

He dropped my shoes in front of me, a silent order in place that suggested I put them on. I slipped them on as briskly as I could, hoping the faster I did the sooner my mom would come out and talk to me.

"Where's Kaa-chan?" I asked, peeking around his legs at a door that had been shut. He looks somber as he gives me a slight shake of the head.

"It's time to go, Yukine. Your mother gives you her best, but the sooner we get out of here the better," he states, and I widen my eyes in betrayal.

Kurenai lowers her self in front of me, and gestures for me to get on her back. I climb on regretfully, knowing full well that making a fuss with ninja would only render me unconscious. And I was no use to myself unconscious.

The ninja immediately took off in record speed, and as my home grew smaller and smaller, I swear I could see a a pair of eyes in the window. Perhaps my mom watching me go, at least feeling a fraction of the sadness that I was.

I didn't even get to say goodbye…

_(The eyes were of a snake, yellow and bloodthirsty, ready to poison its prey.)_

* * *

**_Author's Note:_**

**_I have big, big plans for poor little Yukine next chapter. Next chapter is the tipping point in this meant-to-be-angst story. I hope you're all excited, I sure am!_**

**_Question: Can anyone make a guess for what could come of next chapter? _**

**_Till next time!_**


End file.

Naruto, Adventure, Angst