The night was cold, and the stars glinted brightly against the dark sky. The full moon was tinted a blood red, and the light shone dimly onto a large forest. Animals huddled together for warmth, their breathes ragged and visible as a mist in the air. The trees themselves were silent, and only the slight stir of the wind through the leaves could be heard in that forest.

But deep in the middle of the stands of trees, was a village. It was an uncommonly large village, and their lights shone brightly in the darkness of the night. Their laughter and cries of joy was so alarmingly different from the rest of the world.

Because there was a festival. A celebration. And everybody could feel the excitement in the air, as they danced, and laughed, and played, and sung. As the little kids bought tiny trinkets and ate hand spun cotton candy. As the adults laughed together, and toasted to a great night.

The world was asleep, but the people didn't care. Because it was a festival. They were finally free. Was it so wrong to celebrate that? And so, they continued with their happiness, oblivious to the coldness of the rest of the world.

But there was one man, so different from the rest. He wore a dark reddish black cloak, the hood completely hiding his face. He bowed his head low to the ground as he walked down the laughter filled street. Away from the Hokage Mountain, which he had just left.

And this man, so different from the rest, avoided the people, and went to the reality of the world. He found himself at the gates of Konoha, and just stood there, alone, away from the laughter, away from light, and consumed by the silence.

And without a backwards glance, the man left the light, and turned to the reality of the world. He walked with quick and sure steps, as he entered into the trees, and his figure was soon disappearing into the darkness.

The night was cold, and stars glinted brightly against the dark sky. But only one person, in the entire world, could feel it.


It was morning in Konoha, as the light of the sun finally broke through the horizon and into the clear, light blue sky of the morning.

A small figure walked through the deserted street. This figure had strikingly dark raven hair that stuck up in the back. He didn't pay attention to the discarded litter on the ground, or the festival lanterns, still swinging high on the rooftops. His dark eyes eyes, partially hidden by his long bangs, had its sight on one thing alone. A lone, dreary apartment, that stuck up against the calm and bright background.

But when he came closer, he realized that something was wrong. The apartment felt abandoned and his steps became quicker and more desperate. To the figure's shock, he could smell the disgusting odour of alchohol and explosive powder in the air and he began running through the stairs.

When he reached his destination, he slammed open the door, and froze. The apartment was filled with mangled corpses lying everywhere. Their heads were completely missing. No, their heads weren't sliced cleanly off, it was more like as if somebody stuffed a grenade in their mouths and detonated it, judging by the amount of blood splattered against the walls.

The figure stepped numbly into the apartment, when his foot suddenly broke through the wooden flooring. He hastily withdrew his foot, and found, to his surprise, that it was a loose floorboard, and inside, was a single black book.

The figure curiously took out the small book, and with trembling hands, opened it, and began reading.

To whatever curious reader that finds this. In this book is my life, with all the details, and thoughts that I could think of. I left this behind so that people might, one day, understand why exactly I did what I did. Why I acted like I was acting.

If this is Sasuke that picked up this book, then, teme, I have one thing to say to you. Get over that emo crap and start living your life for kami's sake.

Sasuke, for that was the figure's name, stared at the familiar writing, before looking at the bottom of the page, where another sentence, written suspiciously in what looked like blood, was scrawled on. The words itself were written in a different penmanship.


Sasuke quickly glanced upwards, and felt his eyes widen as he saw the tens of thousands of explosive paper notes stuck to the ceiling, their ends burning rapidly, and triggered by a long wire that, to Sasuke's horror, was attached to the book itself.

A long way away, at a large red tower almost underneath a massive cliff, the Hokage jumped in shock as he felt a large tremor coming from Naruto's apartment.






This is my life. This is my story. Believe it.