(Naruto) The Blessing - PG, 753 words
Title: The Blessing
Fandom: Naruto
Rating: PG
Pairings/Characters: Naruto
Spoilers: ...none? Not really, nope.
Response to 15minuteficlets word blessing, which I kind of took and ran off with. ^^;;
They say that he is cursed. The ‘Cursed Child’, the ‘Demon’, the ‘Monster’. They huddle in groups at the edge of the roads when he walks past, and shield their children from him, whispering to each other with words that are not hidden from his ears.
‘…demon to destroy us all…’
‘…should be killed!’
‘…nothing but a curse on this village…’
Everywhere he goes, it is the same thing. Sometimes it is worse, where the adults will sneer at him outright, and older children throw sticks and stones at him, and sometimes it is a little better, because the adults just try their best to ignore him outright.
But sometimes he wonders which is worse: the ignoring or the violence? He tends to stay in areas where he is ignored rather than hated outright, but sometimes he can’t help himself and will venture outside where the villagers show their open hatred.
It is better, he thinks to himself, to be hated than to be ignored.
He is used to speaking to people, or trying to speak to people, and them turning their backs on him as if he weren’t there in the first place. He is used to trying to get someone’s attention when he falls, when he cries at scrapped knees and bloody palms. He is used to try to gain attention when he just needs to know that he really is there, that he really exists.
Trying, trying. Not that it ever works. So he usually ventures elsewhere to make sure that he is still alive, and that it isn’t all a dream.
The curses and insults came to become music to his ears. It was acknowledgement in some form, a way of verifying that he did exist, that he was more than just a ghost who was unable to influence or connect to people. To be hated was better than being ignored because despite the attention being negative, he wanted it. He needed that attention, craved for it. All he wanted was the acknowledge of those people who shunned him, who whispered to each other that he was a cursed child.
But things grew different as he grew older, as he openly sought out that hatred, as he grew indifferent and apathetic to the sneers and the thrown objects. He was getting better at dodging, getting older and the villagers were more frightened. He was louder and more boisterous, and had learned from those who ignored him how to ignore the heated glares. He laughed loudly, proclaimed the more obscure things.
“I’m going to be Hokage someday!”
He pulled pranks and snickered when his victims steamed but couldn’t catch him. He wore the loudest colours he could find, and made sure his steps were heavy and loud. He was going to be someone they couldn’t ignore, someone they couldn’t brush off to the side like he never existed in the first place. Even if they continued to see him as a pest, a menace, he was going to be seen.
He was going to be important.
He was going to be a person.
He wasn’t going to allow their curses to ruin him, but instead it would shape who he was and remind him that he could never give up, never give in. Giving up meant going back to being nothing but a spectre floating amongst the population, waiting for acknowledgement that would never come. He would use those memories to spur him on, to make him great.
And as the years went on, as he graduated the Academy as was placed on a team, as he finally made friends who could not ignore him at all, as he got to finally really know his generation and gain their respect, as he lost his best friend to a threat he couldn’t defeat, and as he realized there were more important things than acknowledgement…
He came to the conclusion that he wasn’t cursed at all. The curse that the villagers had feared had helped him out numerous times, had lent him strength when his precious people were in danger, and had buoyed him and kept him alive when he was past the point of exhaustion. It was a power that the villagers feared, a pure destructive power that could threaten to overwhelm.
But it was a power that had saved so many people as well. A power to keep that same village safe from harm.
And he knew that it wasn’t a curse.
It was a gift. It was a blessing.
I thought it was crap, but apparently Marissa liked it... *shrugs*
Fandom: Naruto
Rating: PG
Pairings/Characters: Naruto
Spoilers: ...none? Not really, nope.
Response to 15minuteficlets word blessing, which I kind of took and ran off with. ^^;;
They say that he is cursed. The ‘Cursed Child’, the ‘Demon’, the ‘Monster’. They huddle in groups at the edge of the roads when he walks past, and shield their children from him, whispering to each other with words that are not hidden from his ears.
‘…demon to destroy us all…’
‘…should be killed!’
‘…nothing but a curse on this village…’
Everywhere he goes, it is the same thing. Sometimes it is worse, where the adults will sneer at him outright, and older children throw sticks and stones at him, and sometimes it is a little better, because the adults just try their best to ignore him outright.
But sometimes he wonders which is worse: the ignoring or the violence? He tends to stay in areas where he is ignored rather than hated outright, but sometimes he can’t help himself and will venture outside where the villagers show their open hatred.
It is better, he thinks to himself, to be hated than to be ignored.
He is used to speaking to people, or trying to speak to people, and them turning their backs on him as if he weren’t there in the first place. He is used to trying to get someone’s attention when he falls, when he cries at scrapped knees and bloody palms. He is used to try to gain attention when he just needs to know that he really is there, that he really exists.
Trying, trying. Not that it ever works. So he usually ventures elsewhere to make sure that he is still alive, and that it isn’t all a dream.
The curses and insults came to become music to his ears. It was acknowledgement in some form, a way of verifying that he did exist, that he was more than just a ghost who was unable to influence or connect to people. To be hated was better than being ignored because despite the attention being negative, he wanted it. He needed that attention, craved for it. All he wanted was the acknowledge of those people who shunned him, who whispered to each other that he was a cursed child.
But things grew different as he grew older, as he openly sought out that hatred, as he grew indifferent and apathetic to the sneers and the thrown objects. He was getting better at dodging, getting older and the villagers were more frightened. He was louder and more boisterous, and had learned from those who ignored him how to ignore the heated glares. He laughed loudly, proclaimed the more obscure things.
“I’m going to be Hokage someday!”
He pulled pranks and snickered when his victims steamed but couldn’t catch him. He wore the loudest colours he could find, and made sure his steps were heavy and loud. He was going to be someone they couldn’t ignore, someone they couldn’t brush off to the side like he never existed in the first place. Even if they continued to see him as a pest, a menace, he was going to be seen.
He was going to be important.
He was going to be a person.
He wasn’t going to allow their curses to ruin him, but instead it would shape who he was and remind him that he could never give up, never give in. Giving up meant going back to being nothing but a spectre floating amongst the population, waiting for acknowledgement that would never come. He would use those memories to spur him on, to make him great.
And as the years went on, as he graduated the Academy as was placed on a team, as he finally made friends who could not ignore him at all, as he got to finally really know his generation and gain their respect, as he lost his best friend to a threat he couldn’t defeat, and as he realized there were more important things than acknowledgement…
He came to the conclusion that he wasn’t cursed at all. The curse that the villagers had feared had helped him out numerous times, had lent him strength when his precious people were in danger, and had buoyed him and kept him alive when he was past the point of exhaustion. It was a power that the villagers feared, a pure destructive power that could threaten to overwhelm.
But it was a power that had saved so many people as well. A power to keep that same village safe from harm.
And he knew that it wasn’t a curse.
It was a gift. It was a blessing.
I thought it was crap, but apparently Marissa liked it... *shrugs*