The Ideal Shinobi
By Parade.

Nothing really much to say. I wanted to know how deep I could get, is all. Er...the longer you read the more sarcastic it'll get, I bet. I just seem to work that way. I also don't own Naruto.

-//-

Merciless. Emotionless. Powerful. Killers. Silent. Commanding. Reserved. Energetic. Alluring. Humble. Stoic. Diverse.

Tools.

These were the words that described the ideal shinobi. But if this was a set rule, then Konoha's Ninjas were the worst shinobi around.

-

Naruto was not merciless. He was compassionate. Despite years of suffering his heart was still open to new people and new ideas. He would not squash the ambitions of others, but instead feed their hopes and dreams and help in every way possible, although no one seemed to want to help him. Sure, his way of helping was a bit rough around the edges, but he meant well, and his way always seemed to work better then others. If someone where ever to paint a portrait of him,whe would be painted as the boy who always had his hand outstretched, a warm and sincere smile on his face as his own dried and disregarded tears stained his bright cheeks.

Sasuke was not emotionless. He was overflowing with them, but unbeknownst to others the painted shield he had raised prevented any of his feelings to leak out. Sometimes his armour chipped and his emotions would trickle out, but Sasuke was full with hidden emotion; it was just nobody could peek over the top of his shield to see the cracked and broken doll that was crying inside.

Sakura was not powerful. But she was strong; she was strong in her true power which lay deep inside. She was forced to put up with the pain of the fact that she could not protect her friends. She was said to have a heart that was weak and was useless as a konoichi, but using that “weak” heart she stood up proud and learnt how to make everyone see her, see the proud and strong woman she was deep inside, and had been there all along.

Hinata was not a killer. She would never kill in cold blood, although her position could give her the power to. She would never find solace in ripping a person's soul away from their body. She couldn't, and she wouldn't; Hinata was not programmed that way. If she killed someone it would feel as if she was also killing herself, as if she was slowly destroying her own humanity. Instead, she tried hard to help people back onto the right road. Of course there were casualties, but if someone died their blood would stain her hands forever, and her guilt at her own short comings would make her die inside.

Kiba was not silent. He was loud. He could understand what was going on, and he'd always have something to say about it. Shinobi were supposed to keep themselves to themselves, never let anyone figure out what they were thinking; but Kiba was not like that. If he knew something was going on, if he knew that people were being wrongly mistreated, he would stand up and speak out. His voice would be loud, but his words would be quiet, striking at the hearts of anyone who bothered to listen closely.

Shino was not commanding. Sure, he could be intimidating, but he would rarely put people on the spot and make them do his bidding. He was quiet, not judging others on their weaknesses, but recognising their strengths, and maybe that is why his team worked well together. Shino could hide behind his high collar, but he wouldn't let anyone else do the same; in his own special way he would quietly prod them into shoes that they really could have filled by themselves.

Ino was not reserved. She knew what she wanted, and she knew how she would get it. She would not stand for any insult that came her way, or in the way of her friends. She would stand up and tell them, loud and clear, “Don't you dare mess with my us!” Her heart was strong, and so was her tolerance, although she had a quick temper. But she knew what had to be done, and when needed would always be there in time to help. She was not some quiet little angel that would stand in the back and pretend not to care.

Shikamaru was not energetic. He had practically no “oomph” in his life. He'd much rather play chess or shogi than run around in hysterics or cut down various different evil-doers that lay pleasantly unaware on road-sides, but he was by no means unreliable. When someone close to him was in danger, he would come through, but in his own way. He would never stand by and let someone get hurt, and just because he liked watching clouds more then partaking in any strenuous physical activity did not mean he was permanently lethargic.

Chouji was not alluring. A good shinobi knew how to charm their way out of situations where brute force would not do, but because of Chouji's outwards appearance this would make it hard to the point of “never-going-to-happen”, as the world as we know it is a very materialistic place. But Chouji knew that in times where hitting some one is not the best option, talking to the person was as good a tactic as any. And this wasn't just in the battle field. Chouji was a good listener, and would never judge others without basis for his assumptions. Underneath his bulky outer-shell lay a heart of pure gold that, even though had a couple of scratches on it, was nonetheless one of the most understanding souls one could find.

Neji was not humble. When faced with an opponent with a high level of political power, he would not back down when he knew that what they were saying was wrong. No, he wasn't big headed, he knew that if someone was treating a person badly because of their own over-inflated ego he would always tell them just how wrong and stupid they were. Many people frowned upon this, thinking that the boy did not know his place. But he did, as did he know the place of every person in the world. Their place were as humans, and maybe because of his upbringing where he was forced unnaturally in this place did he really begin to dislike how some people treated others.

Tenten was not stoic. She always had a smile for everyone, she always made sure no one felt less than they were. She was an easy person to read; you could tell when she was happy, when she was sad, or angry, or determined. You could tell when she was fighting and trying her hardest to uphold her honour and the honour of everyone around her. Many people would frown upon her easy-to-read face, but her friends wouldn't. Those who freely showed the smile on their face and not put up a mask of uncaring to hide how they truly felt were more secure in themselves than others, and this was nothing to frown upon.

Lee was not diverse. His only style was taijutsu, having been born with unfortunate set back of not being able to manipulate chakra. Despite this he still never gave up in trying to achieve his dream of becoming a great shinobi. People would laugh, saying how there would never be a taijutsu-only ninja because they would easily be defeated by the powerful techniques of others, but they were wrong. Lee was living proof that everyone was born different, and by playing to one's strength and recognising one's weaknesses would they be able to prove how able they were. A dream, no matter how far-fetched it may seem, will always be able to come true if one continuously strived for it like Lee did. He would never give up climbing that stairway until he reached the very top.

-

Tsunade reclined in her chair as she surveyed the village of Konoha. Each and every one of the people out there were different, and that was what made them so special. She looked at the letter in her hands, and read the final word:

“Tools.”

Ninja were not tools. They were not play things to be used just so the puppeteer could yank on their strings long enough to have their five seconds of fun. They were people, and had with hearts and souls and minds and brains and consciences that were too special and unique to be called “tools”.

Each and every one of these Rules of the Ideal Shinobi had been disregarded when she thought about the shinobi who lived in her village. Just because they did not fit these rules, did not mean they were any less of the shinobi they were meant to be, or what they could be. They were the ideal shinobi in themselves, and they lived and breathed to protect the village they called their home.

Tsunade got up to where the fire burned brightly, and smiled warmly at the flames. She threw the letter into it, and as she watched the flames lick the paper she thought just how stupid the person who wrote it was. Tsunade's shinobi, according to the letter, were the most useless shinobi around. But as the last part of the paper burned into ash, Tsunade thought warmly that they were the best ninja ever.

-//-