ZOMG Fictage
This is the first thing I wrote for my Naruto fic and I figured I'd put it up here just in case my comp decides to explodes. And maybe so if someone wants to tell me how much my writing is (enter opinion here).
So quiet. So lonely. So dead. Though he had grown up in these once bustling streets it was hard to imagine there was ever life here. The town center was desolate, the shops and carts long abandoned now dilapidated and covered in a thick layer of dust and grime. He'd heard it was bad and over the past three years had tried his best to mentally prepare himself. He hadn't been ready for this. The Dust was everywhere, covering the ground, floating in the air, clinging to anything that stood. His steps sent large clouds of it into the air.
He ran his fingers over the top of an old vending cart. They came away covered in offending reddish-orange. He rubbed his finger-tips together and marveled at it's strange consistency - soft, almost velvet like. This was the downfall of the most powerful ninja village in recorded history? It was odd that something so mundane killed so violently. Konoha - no, almost everything - was dead and it was all due to this one little chemical, casually slipped into water supplies all across the continent. From what he understood, the chemical only poisoned as it was intended until it evaporated and recycled into rain. Apparently, once frozen, the chemical became less potent. But the rain remained a bizarre pink for years after - exactly how long no one knew - and the dust left by the evaporating rain killed any plant life within miles of the targeted area. No one was sure if the Dust was an intended effect, just that it devastated nearly everything, causing massive famine that killed thousands. Their world was now sick and no one knew the cure. Naruto scoffed at the Dust and wiped it on his pants.
Konoha was hit especially hard. It had been the first and was completely blind-sided. Those who survived the poison and fled faced miles upon miles of dead land, and most died of thirst with few exceptions. Only shinobi and the few villagers with them had survived. Before the Dust Konoha's population had been nearing 120,000, in the end a mere 2000 had made it out with their lives. Both civilian and shinobi alike had started to abandon the group of survivors, slowly at first, and tried to defect to Otogakure. Of all the villages it had fared the best. Orginally they had been suspected of causing the Dust, but most knew that it was too modern for Orochimaru's taste. The Sound had done well only because it's food was grown and supplied underground. However, Otogakure wasn't to be their savior. Orochimaru, seeing the refugees were straining the villages already waning supplies, had completely blocked off outsiders. He also refused to share the technology of his subterranean greenhouses. Rumor was that Orochimaru was completely terrified of the Dust.
The wind blew harshly, assaulting Naruto's eyes with the toxic dust. It stung horribly and he lowered his gaze to the ground, swearing to himself that the tears were caused only by the Dust. As he moved on he passed Team Seven's bridge. He pointedly rushed past it. He wanted to see the academy and couldn't afford to be distracted. Dust this thick and concentrated could permanently damage even his lungs.
The academy was worse than he imagined. He had heard it was converted to a morgue at the end, but for some reason it hadn't crossed his mind that the corpses would have remained here. Maybe he'd purposely ignored that no one would be here to bury them. He left the building quickly. It had been closed up for three years with hundreds of dead bodies, and while most were reduced to bone, the smell had yet to dissipate. The tree swing was still in the yard, swaying gently. It seemed like the only living thing left in the village. He gripped the ropes and wondered how many of the bones in the academy had been someone he knew. He wondered how many more people were silently decaying inside their homes. He remembered a rumor about a mass suicide on top the Hokage Monument: were their remains still there, bleaching in the sunlight, or had they already turned to dust? Was Tsunade-baa-chan still rotting where she lay? Was Iruka-sensei? He had no desire to find out. One more stop and then he would leave.
His apartment was just as he'd left it when he was 13, plus about five inches of dust. Normal house dust, he remarked to himself. The Dust outside covered the windows and cast the entire front room of the apartment into a psudo-twilight. In the dim light he made his way into the bedroom. The window in his room faced away from the wind leaving the Dust thinner and casting an orange glow on the room. As he stepped farther into the room he spied what he'd come for; It was the only picture taken of the original Team Seven, sitting atop his dresser, unaffected. It has taken a week after their mission to Wave Country. Despite the tragic death of their opponents, those few weeks following the trip had been his happiest. It was before Sasuke had betrayed him, before the war, before the Dust. Before he'd lost nearly everything.
The noise the impact of the picture frame against the wall was sacrilegiously loud. The glass shattered and the wooden frame splintered. Only the photo remained intact, lying on the floor, incongruously colorful against the dusty wooden panels. Naruto left. There was nothing he wanted here.
It took only a moderately powerful fire jutsu to start Konoha burning to the ground. He looked on for hours as his village burned its way into the past. The Hokage Monument loomed above the fires, it's faces as dispassionate as ever. The last leader of the Leaf-nin turned away. Konohanogakure had finally been put to rest.
So quiet. So lonely. So dead. Though he had grown up in these once bustling streets it was hard to imagine there was ever life here. The town center was desolate, the shops and carts long abandoned now dilapidated and covered in a thick layer of dust and grime. He'd heard it was bad and over the past three years had tried his best to mentally prepare himself. He hadn't been ready for this. The Dust was everywhere, covering the ground, floating in the air, clinging to anything that stood. His steps sent large clouds of it into the air.
He ran his fingers over the top of an old vending cart. They came away covered in offending reddish-orange. He rubbed his finger-tips together and marveled at it's strange consistency - soft, almost velvet like. This was the downfall of the most powerful ninja village in recorded history? It was odd that something so mundane killed so violently. Konoha - no, almost everything - was dead and it was all due to this one little chemical, casually slipped into water supplies all across the continent. From what he understood, the chemical only poisoned as it was intended until it evaporated and recycled into rain. Apparently, once frozen, the chemical became less potent. But the rain remained a bizarre pink for years after - exactly how long no one knew - and the dust left by the evaporating rain killed any plant life within miles of the targeted area. No one was sure if the Dust was an intended effect, just that it devastated nearly everything, causing massive famine that killed thousands. Their world was now sick and no one knew the cure. Naruto scoffed at the Dust and wiped it on his pants.
Konoha was hit especially hard. It had been the first and was completely blind-sided. Those who survived the poison and fled faced miles upon miles of dead land, and most died of thirst with few exceptions. Only shinobi and the few villagers with them had survived. Before the Dust Konoha's population had been nearing 120,000, in the end a mere 2000 had made it out with their lives. Both civilian and shinobi alike had started to abandon the group of survivors, slowly at first, and tried to defect to Otogakure. Of all the villages it had fared the best. Orginally they had been suspected of causing the Dust, but most knew that it was too modern for Orochimaru's taste. The Sound had done well only because it's food was grown and supplied underground. However, Otogakure wasn't to be their savior. Orochimaru, seeing the refugees were straining the villages already waning supplies, had completely blocked off outsiders. He also refused to share the technology of his subterranean greenhouses. Rumor was that Orochimaru was completely terrified of the Dust.
The wind blew harshly, assaulting Naruto's eyes with the toxic dust. It stung horribly and he lowered his gaze to the ground, swearing to himself that the tears were caused only by the Dust. As he moved on he passed Team Seven's bridge. He pointedly rushed past it. He wanted to see the academy and couldn't afford to be distracted. Dust this thick and concentrated could permanently damage even his lungs.
The academy was worse than he imagined. He had heard it was converted to a morgue at the end, but for some reason it hadn't crossed his mind that the corpses would have remained here. Maybe he'd purposely ignored that no one would be here to bury them. He left the building quickly. It had been closed up for three years with hundreds of dead bodies, and while most were reduced to bone, the smell had yet to dissipate. The tree swing was still in the yard, swaying gently. It seemed like the only living thing left in the village. He gripped the ropes and wondered how many of the bones in the academy had been someone he knew. He wondered how many more people were silently decaying inside their homes. He remembered a rumor about a mass suicide on top the Hokage Monument: were their remains still there, bleaching in the sunlight, or had they already turned to dust? Was Tsunade-baa-chan still rotting where she lay? Was Iruka-sensei? He had no desire to find out. One more stop and then he would leave.
His apartment was just as he'd left it when he was 13, plus about five inches of dust. Normal house dust, he remarked to himself. The Dust outside covered the windows and cast the entire front room of the apartment into a psudo-twilight. In the dim light he made his way into the bedroom. The window in his room faced away from the wind leaving the Dust thinner and casting an orange glow on the room. As he stepped farther into the room he spied what he'd come for; It was the only picture taken of the original Team Seven, sitting atop his dresser, unaffected. It has taken a week after their mission to Wave Country. Despite the tragic death of their opponents, those few weeks following the trip had been his happiest. It was before Sasuke had betrayed him, before the war, before the Dust. Before he'd lost nearly everything.
The noise the impact of the picture frame against the wall was sacrilegiously loud. The glass shattered and the wooden frame splintered. Only the photo remained intact, lying on the floor, incongruously colorful against the dusty wooden panels. Naruto left. There was nothing he wanted here.
It took only a moderately powerful fire jutsu to start Konoha burning to the ground. He looked on for hours as his village burned its way into the past. The Hokage Monument loomed above the fires, it's faces as dispassionate as ever. The last leader of the Leaf-nin turned away. Konohanogakure had finally been put to rest.