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Naruto › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
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Chapters:
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Category:
Naruto › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
20
Views:
1,341
Reviews:
18
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Home Movie 2
A/N: I promise fluff. Soon. But first comes the sadness.
Home Movie 2: The Ending
Character: Neji
Pairing: none
Summary: Is it the death of a legend, or just another soul slipping into the unknown?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It had been a stupid move.
He knew it before he ever shifted to the right, pulling the enemy nin’s eyes to him, pulling the killing intent his way instead of to his smaller, lesser, dumber teammate. But it was his teammate, and his responsibility as captain.
No one would die but him. Not while he was in command.
He watched with his almost-three-sixty-vision as his team did as they were trained to do, as they ran in separate directions and split from the scene. Any encounter with Akatsuki while on a mission meant that they were to assume fatality was assured and that someone would have to make sure the mission succeeded at all costs.
Neji would do so.
So while they split, with Rika taking the important (forbidden) scroll full of Ame jutsu with her, he stayed behind to keep the enemy’s attention, hopefully destroying one of their enemies.
Not even ten minutes later, he lay on the muddy ground, bits of leaves and grass and dirt mingling with his spilled blood as he died in some unknown forest.
This was not exactly how he had pictured his death, but the masked nin was stronger than he had ever thought someone could be, and you couldn’t kill someone you couldn’t even touch.
He only hoped they made it home.
He was really so tired, that he was sure it didn’t matter anymore. 23 was incredibly old for someone who had been in the field as long as he had, and he was glad to have made it that long. If his life was fated (such a useless concept, he thinks) to end here, then who was he to argue with the plan of the world.
He just wondered.
Would anyone ever remember him? Was he just another faceless name to be added to the solemn stone carved with countless others he didn’t know? Would his comrades talk about his feats over drinks after a long mission, wonder how life would have been with him, miss him?
He hoped so.
Death didn’t scare him; he was a shinobi that had faced countless unknowns in his short life. But being lost in the blackness of time—that was his worst fear.
Had he left any imprint on the world?
The trees above him blurred, either mixing with his steadily flowing blood or the sweat coming from his forehead, and he wished he could ask for better scenery to paint on the back of his eyelids for the long trip into the abyss.
He wished he could ask for time.
The pain finally began to dull—which he knew meant dangerous things for his consciousness—and he found that time would be his only regret. He could think of many things left to say, many things left unfinished.
Many things left to see.
He could remember the summer sun, cats curled lazily around a springtime breeze, flowers opening to the new life offered each year. He could remember smiles, tears, pain, and even the electric attraction of lust.
He couldn’t remember faces, though.
He tried, very hard. Hinata, Hiashi, Tenten, Lee—the names floated through his addled brain without visual memories, and he despaired at the fact that he would die alone, without even a memory to keep him company.
But none of it mattered anymore.
He could remember warmth, and his father, so he would slip into oblivion knowing that there had to be something better beyond this quickly fading dream of life.
As his eyes finally slid shut, his heart slowed to an unnoticeable rhythm, and his body went slack, the forest continued to breathe life around him.
Nature wouldn’t notice the passing of a legend, but his teammates back home would notice the loss of a friend.
That was really all he wanted, anyway.
Home Movie 2: The Ending
Character: Neji
Pairing: none
Summary: Is it the death of a legend, or just another soul slipping into the unknown?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It had been a stupid move.
He knew it before he ever shifted to the right, pulling the enemy nin’s eyes to him, pulling the killing intent his way instead of to his smaller, lesser, dumber teammate. But it was his teammate, and his responsibility as captain.
No one would die but him. Not while he was in command.
He watched with his almost-three-sixty-vision as his team did as they were trained to do, as they ran in separate directions and split from the scene. Any encounter with Akatsuki while on a mission meant that they were to assume fatality was assured and that someone would have to make sure the mission succeeded at all costs.
Neji would do so.
So while they split, with Rika taking the important (forbidden) scroll full of Ame jutsu with her, he stayed behind to keep the enemy’s attention, hopefully destroying one of their enemies.
Not even ten minutes later, he lay on the muddy ground, bits of leaves and grass and dirt mingling with his spilled blood as he died in some unknown forest.
This was not exactly how he had pictured his death, but the masked nin was stronger than he had ever thought someone could be, and you couldn’t kill someone you couldn’t even touch.
He only hoped they made it home.
He was really so tired, that he was sure it didn’t matter anymore. 23 was incredibly old for someone who had been in the field as long as he had, and he was glad to have made it that long. If his life was fated (such a useless concept, he thinks) to end here, then who was he to argue with the plan of the world.
He just wondered.
Would anyone ever remember him? Was he just another faceless name to be added to the solemn stone carved with countless others he didn’t know? Would his comrades talk about his feats over drinks after a long mission, wonder how life would have been with him, miss him?
He hoped so.
Death didn’t scare him; he was a shinobi that had faced countless unknowns in his short life. But being lost in the blackness of time—that was his worst fear.
Had he left any imprint on the world?
The trees above him blurred, either mixing with his steadily flowing blood or the sweat coming from his forehead, and he wished he could ask for better scenery to paint on the back of his eyelids for the long trip into the abyss.
He wished he could ask for time.
The pain finally began to dull—which he knew meant dangerous things for his consciousness—and he found that time would be his only regret. He could think of many things left to say, many things left unfinished.
Many things left to see.
He could remember the summer sun, cats curled lazily around a springtime breeze, flowers opening to the new life offered each year. He could remember smiles, tears, pain, and even the electric attraction of lust.
He couldn’t remember faces, though.
He tried, very hard. Hinata, Hiashi, Tenten, Lee—the names floated through his addled brain without visual memories, and he despaired at the fact that he would die alone, without even a memory to keep him company.
But none of it mattered anymore.
He could remember warmth, and his father, so he would slip into oblivion knowing that there had to be something better beyond this quickly fading dream of life.
As his eyes finally slid shut, his heart slowed to an unnoticeable rhythm, and his body went slack, the forest continued to breathe life around him.
Nature wouldn’t notice the passing of a legend, but his teammates back home would notice the loss of a friend.
That was really all he wanted, anyway.