Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto; Masashi Kishimoto and a hell of a lot of
corporate entities do. This is just for fun, not for profit, yada yada.
=========================================
To you who are reading this:
I write this as I lay, broken, battered, and dying, pinned beneath a heavy
tree which probably stood for a hundred or more years before a single blow
felled it and brought it crashing down upon my back and thighs.
I welcome my death, gladly and with open arms, for I have succeeded where
others far more powerful and memorable than myself have failed:
I singlehandedly brought about the destruction of the hidden ninja village
of Konoha.
First, I must say that I come from a place where Konoha and its inhabitants
are mere drawings on a page, words and images that weave and merge to tell a
story, a story designed to entertain young boys and sell magazines and
nothing more.
How I came to be here, I still do not know. However, once it became clear to
me where I was, and that I was, in fact, not dreaming, I knew that the
probability of a long life expectancy, or of anyone believing the truth of
my origins, was so low as to be virtually nonexistent.
Besides, everything worth doing that I could do here in this world would be
impossible for me, since I'm no ninja, and have no chance of a romantic or
even casual relationship with anyone I'd desire.
So I sat at Ramen Ichiraku, slurping the best damn noodles anywhere and
wondering how I was going to weasel out of paying the bill, when an idea hit
me--an inspiration so simple, so brilliant, so PERFECT...
Of course, I immediately knew that acting on this insanely brilliant plan
would be signing my own death warrant. And yet...
And yet, it would be a tragedy to let such inspired mischief go to waste.
Sure, it was evil, cruel, malicious, sinful, spiteful...
But it was just too PERFECT.
So, I watched, and I waited.
Eventually, as I expected, a certain pink-haired kunoichi passed by outside
the ramen stand. I made a great show of falling off my stool and having most
of the contents of my pockets tumble out into the street, made a quick
apology to the cook, then clambered out into the street...deliberately
obstructing the path of Haruno Sakura, who wasn't paying as close attention
to where she was going as she should have been.
"Oops! Terribly sorry about that," she said, bowing.
Grinning inwardly, I gave her the nastiest, most hateful sneer I could
muster, and spat out:
"Watch where you're putting your fat foot, you ugly whore!"
Then I ran.
That was around noon, and sunset was an hour ago.
I ran as fast and as hard as I could, all over the village, ducking around
corners, under shop curtains, through open doors, and making a point of
rounding every major landmark save for the Hokage Mountain.
What gave me the endurance to keep going, I don't know. I just knew I had to
keep running--but I wasn't running for my life.
No, I was running for *THE PLAN*.
Every building I put between myself and the enraged kunoichi, she smashed
her way through like a rampaging bull. Within ten minutes of the chase, the
first sounds of massive structural failure and collapse echoed behind us,
raising a dust cloud and many panicked shouts.
By sundown, as I tore through the village gates and into the dense forest,
Sakura still hot on my heels, most of the village lay in ruins.
I still wonder why ANBU never intervened in the chase. Or any jounin. Or
Naruto. Or ANYBODY.
Maybe they just know not to get in the way of the Pink Wrecking Ball. I
dunno.
In any case...my strength is fading, and I can barely see anymore. My hand
is shaking, and I'm certain I'm about to drop my pen.
But I just want it to be known that where Kyuubi, Orochimaru, and countless
others have failed, I have succeeded.
The one who has truly destroyed Konoha is
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