Evil, empty darkness is but a creation of imaginative minds. There is nothing as cruel, as bleak as the chilling black. People aimlessly throw themselves over to a commanding pitch due to relentless fear; the powerful night painfully allows them to feel an ounce of lost safety and new gained security.
Blood stained scenes of the already gone past are nothing but crimson red memories. No one is allowed a fraction of present living time to dwell uselessly on the inscribed long ago. What can they change by shedding sea creating tears? What can they do to overwrite their sullied before?
Only if they are able to pick up true, real strength and find a bit of themselves to keep advancing forward, are they able to be titled “strong”. But he is terribly stubborn, unwilling to free the nightmare, haunting past. So the last the small, begging village can at least hope urgently for his own, uncaring sake is that he’d keep the shred of innocence left, forever.
/Daisuki dakara zutto
/Nanimo shinpai iranaiwa
/My Darling, Stay Gold
/Mujakini waratte kudasai na
/Itsuma demo
He had nothing to anxious to worry nervously about. His perfect life was set strictly, a straightforward, direct path for him to stroll leisurely. The dark, mysterious eyes of this boy wandered aimlessly, searching for a new existence dreadfully, not facing his already determined time.
The young, anxious boy lay restlessly in the soft, vast bed of his barren, uncluttered bedroom, wandering thoughts floating carelessly around the mindless massacre of his gory past. Scenes of crimson red fluid splattered sketchily on once uncontaminated, stone walls with various severely razor-sharp weapons hissing through the air rapidly. His beloved relatives falling lifelessly before his young, innocent eyes insensitively as this unwavering, set fate was in act to taking place, having been excruciatingly chosen before his phenomenal birth.
He shut his eyes tiredly, lightly closing the bright light of the still glowing, orange tinged afternoon from his sight. Flashes of white blinded his mind as imagination cradled him recklessly away from the secure, safe confinements of the organized, spotless house.
/Anata no hitomi no oku ni hisomu shounen
/Watashi no honnou kusugutte yamanai
/Ah~ Douka sonomama
/Good Luck
His blank, usually void eyes took on a lifeless form as he refused indignantly to grasp tightly onto the last piece of whatever high held pride he had left for his once noble clan. Somehow, no matter how much he attempted at sealing away the freshly conjured memories from his marred mind, they would not leave him without settling a terrifying nightmare; bestowed upon him heartlessly.
He wholly forgot how to disregard entirely, his mind displaying endless scarlet tainted slideshows of raw recollection, reminding him why his not chosen yet destined course was that of an non gaining, heartless avenger.
And what in what holy direction was his consecrated life ended for after the demise of his mistrusted, once admired man? Had he serenely laid thought even vaguely of that total half portion of his hallowed being?
/Kanashii koto wa kitto
/Konosaki nimo ippai aruwa
/My Darling, Stay Gold
/Kizutsuku koto mo daiji dakara
He visibly understood his callous circumstances, having assessed it copious, uncountable times that it became a droning nag in the murky, dimly lit recess of his wounded mind. There would be many more sinister bereavements occurring silently in his still unfilled, sanctified life; daring to trek fearlessly on the trail of a ninja was his resolute occupation, and these fatalities were not of decidable option. He had to be able to bear robustly to the hastening surge of emotions that would be felt. And thus in the thorny, inctricate Academy, they were educated appropriately to block out, to restrain all human feelings, this would minimize emotional shock and mental strain.
He had been slashed down pitilessly, mercilessly for eternity, but even this was an imperative erudition practice. Becoming an indignant, injured individual was part of all the brutal, agonizing lives ninja had to understand, and only due because of his juvenile age, it was especially excruciating.
Already knowing, being accustomed to inflicting discouragement from his austere, non praising father, he was familiarized to solitude from the moment he was obliged, accepted unwillingly into the arctic world.
/Daisuki dakara zutto
/Nanimo shinpai iranaiwa
/My Darling, Stay Gold
/Mujakini waratte kudasaina
/Itsuma demo
But he received a fraction, a minute ounce of love from his ever compassionate, concerned mother. It might have been adequate to hoard him from being devoured utterly by isolation and misery. However, it would never be sufficient. He would never feel the empathy from his stringent father.
/Shuushoku mo kimatte
/Asonde bakari irarenai ne
/Otona no joushiki
/Ya chie mi ni tsukeru no mo ii
/Ah~ Kyou wa kono mama
/Good Night
The dreadfully companionless, isolated eight year old scholar studied eternally, enduring callously into bitter, delayed nights. With his prearranged fate already presented plainly, unmistakably before his untried, inexpert onyx eyes, he entirely comprehended responsibly and unfamiliar, indefinite maturity well afar his youthful age.
He had no time to waste on petite, childish games of hide and seek with his fellow classmates.
He had no time to be thrown wasted utterly by accomplishing trivial, immaterial missions.
He had a life’s pledge to fulfill eventually, one he had stipulated viciously of himself.
/Kawariyuku no ga
/Hito no kokoro no tsune dato iimasuga
/Ne Daarin Your Soul
/Yasashiku kagayaki tsuzukeru wa
Necessary, spiteful changes were essentially imperative to the beings of the war filled, freezing world. Humans needed undoubtedly, undeniably to be shifted insensitively from their resting every few minutes per night.
/Daisuki dakara zutto
/Nannimo shinapi iranai wa
/My Darling, Stay Gold
/Mujakini waratte kudasaina
/Itsumademo
He was awfully lonely. It was a vast burden to such a young child.
“If I can keep smiling innocently, each and every day.”
/Daisuki dakara zutto
/Nanimo shinpai iranai wa
/My Darling, Stay Gold
/Mujakini waratte iraretara
/Itsuno himo
It would be a perplexing miracle. But majestic, ostentatious miracles did not happen.
- owari -
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Story notes: Disclaimer: Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto. No money is being made from the writing of this story and no copyright/trademark infringement is intended.
[Song] Disclaimer: “Stay Gold” and Utada Hikaru do no belong to me and no copyright/trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter notes: Signs:
/ is the lyrics of the song
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A/N: Please note that the story probably doesn't make as much sense as I hoped it would. I didn't write this out randomly, I had planned it, and I hope it gets the slight message across.