Crux Uchiha

Hello everyone who read this.
Whether you, Kiyoshi, or you, Haruko read this first. Perhaps someone also reads these lines, which I do not know, respectively knew. I write this down here to arrange my thoughts, my memories. In order not to lose my memories partly again. My life had innumerable small and great ups and downs. It is really strange how exactly I remember some things. In many places I will probably still have to get help, from the most diverse people. I will probably have to ask for an audience with the Hokage … Well. I begin with the mission that first changed me. Continue reading “Crux Uchiha” »



The first time the boy saw one, the air was crackling with the anticipation of a storm.

He liked to lie around on those days, watching the sky get darker and darker until his mother came out shouting for him to come back—because she knew he’d stay out in the rain all day and night if she didn’t. He liked the feel of it, the way it tingled in his spine and made the air thicker. He knew of course, that the sky was going to break, crack open like an egg and flash brightly; dragging the sound of thunder behind it. He liked it, liked knowing it. And it confused his parents to no end. Little kids were supposed to be scared of storms but there he was, their strange boy on his back by the side of the road, stretching himself out as long as his little limbs would go, and watching the skies get darker, and darker. No one knew what to make of him. No one human, anyway; the farm dogs understood him just fine, lounging out next to him with their tongues lolling in an equal state of ease. Somehow that worried people more. Continue reading “Lightning” »


Fox Smile

Uzumaki Naruto opens his eyes groggily and looks out the window. It is, as usual, a perfect day. It rarely rains here- when it does, only at night.

It’s Sunday. No academy. Go out and find something to do, annoy everyone, be ignored and sleep the rest of the day. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing unlike every other day of his life since he can remember- the difference being that on weekdays he only annoys his teachers and classmates. On Sunday he can make a fool of himself for everyone else as well.

He stares at his hand and winces; something cut his hand during the night. Not that it matters much. He’s always had the ability to heal quickly, before he goes out he’ll be fine. Continue reading “Fox Smile” »