[Open] I truly am a dobe

[namikaze_naruto]

Naruto was out at one of the training grounds, working out as he often was. He needed to keep his skills sharp, in case things started going bad. Granted, in a way this place was perfect. He had his parents back, he had a group of little 'brothers.' He even had hopes for someone for the future. Now he just had to stay strong, for his previous people.

However, today was not a good day, because of the piece of paper that dropped to the ground in front of him. Being the curious one he was he picked it up... and his entire world shattered.

'It's your fault.'

Not even Kurama's voice was heard, as his heart fell backwards in memory. Something about those words triggered in him events that started when he earned his forehead protector. Mizuki. The traitor working for Orochimaru. However, it was a fear and doubt that was always at the back of his mind. He thought back to everyone whom had been harmed or died because of their involvement with him. His parents, Iruka-sensei, those who died during the Kyuubi's release before it was sealed... Hinata.

Something happened to him, something that had not happened for a very long time. He no longer could hear Kurama, and his chakra began to go out of balance, creating a bubbling red cloak around him... as he felt nothing but hate and loathing with himself... for the second time ever, Namikaze Naruto was falling into despair.

[OPEN] We Walked in Fields of Gold

[madame_tranquility]

A walk outside was supposed to have been just that. With the sun breaking in through the clouds and the leaves dancing in the wind-- it reminded her of how things used to be. With him. And there was a ray of warm sunshine that bathed her face just then, one that made Mito close her eyes and smile. It was just the sun, but it felt so intimately familiar.

...Of course it would, though. He was her sun.

And the day would have been perfect if not for a piece of paper that, after casually twisting and turning in the breeze, settled neatly in her hands. What a curious thing, she mused, smiling to herself as she gently turned the note over in her palm.

Her smile faded. Three words, Three little words--

I miss you

Whatever she had told herself in his absence, whatever she had done these six long years to make up for it, to push the sadness away, to cover up the void-- They shattered.

Mito glanced up at the parting clouds then, almost expecting him to be there, but her voice hitched and she only managed a choked "I miss-- I miss you too..."

(no subject)

[mothersmemories]

It had taken some time for him to heal enough for Temari to actually let him out of the house and, while he'd appreciated her concern, he needed some air right now. He could only take so much coddling before it became less endearing and more annoying, which was why he was currently out and about, exploring this new village.

He come to the market and was peering at the goods on display - so different from the ceramics and glassware that Suna was famous for - when the fluttering of some kind of paper caught his eye. He stared at it for a long moment, surprised; it was pinned to a wooden stall by a kunai. Curious as to what it could be, he plucked it up.

There were only two words on the paper: They died.

He froze, staring at it for a long, long moment. Logic dictated that this meant nothing; logic dictated that he was not involved in whatever this was, because he had been here only a few days and - so far - only three people were aware of his existence.

And yet...and yet, the simple statement squeezed at his heart. He crumpled the paper in one hand, clenching the other in the fabric of his simple black shirt, just over his heart. That statement struck at the very center of his fears for what he had left behind. Something very much like pain and heartbreak crossed his features, but luckily the break in his facade was covered by hair that he really should trim. But it couldn't hide the trail of tears steadily tracing down his cheeks.

[Open] I have too many Gaara mused OTL

[a_touch_of_rose]

In the blink of an eye, from one moment to the next, she was somewhere else. The redhead blinked in mild surprise and stared around at her surroundings. This...didn't look like Kumo. She'd been there a moment ago, speaking with the Raikage about possibly reworking some of their treaties, and now...

She appeared to be standing on the outskirts of a village that she didn't recognize; from the numerous pinpricks of strong, trained chakras, she suspected it was a shinobi village of some sort. That was...not a bad thing, she decided. And so Sabaku no Gaara began walking toward the village, long red curls lifting briefly away from her neck in the stray breeze.

If this is genjutsu, it is unlike anything I have seen before, she mused as she walked, easily weaving between others visiting the markets and wandering. The gourd strapped to her back earned her a few surprised looks, but she ignored them in favor of searching for someone who was likely to be a shinobi; civilians rarely had the answers she required.

[Open] Tell me something I don't know...

[scarsforlife]

Blue skies this morning, cloudless and sharp, the color intense enough to cut. Maybe it was an odd metaphor for the sky, but that was how it felt. He'd slipped out for a breath of air in a quiet moment, enjoying a sudden burst of solitude -- no one was around, this close to the edge of the village, this far from the centers of habitation, and he liked it that way.

He turned away from his contemplation of the sky, watching the edges of the trees that had yet to start budding properly, still winter as far as they were concerned. Good for them. The trees that budded too early suffered for their preciptiousness. Timing was everything. Wait too long and they missed out, move forward too soon and their blossoms died in late frosts. Such was life. Although he did pity the trees a little - they had no intelligence to calculate their timing, and nature could be cruelly deceptive.

Ah, well. The strong survived.

His attention was caught by the rattling sound of a piece of paper blown by the wind, and by reflex he caught it as it twisted by him. Thick paper, obviously of good quality, and simple words in a dark, dry blood-brown.

You are a monster.

The words were... well, unsurprising. Of course he was a monster. It was the method of delivery that concerned him more; he'd not sensed anyone nearby. Still holding the paper, he turned, looking upwind, alert. It couldn't have come from too far away, not with such accuracy...

Fated

[openedthebasket]

You deserved to die.

The piece of paper was snatched out of the air before it could hit his face, leaving him pausing and frowning down at it with a sudden chill. Where could it have come from? A moment as he formed the seals to activate his Byakugan, but -- no one to be seen who could have tossed this at him. Troubling, somewhat cruel, but seeing as how he could see other papers drifting to the ground before other people...? Hardly something to be concerned about, lest this were another seal of some kind.

Still, he couldn't let it fall, running a thumb over it before letting it slip into his pocket. It hadn't been much more than another few steps when a second paper fell, snatched before it could land on his shoulder.

You deserved to die.

[open] sticks and stones may break my bones...

[itachi_san]

It wasn't long before one of those strange pieces of paper found its way to Itachi. He was sitting on the front porch, and it came out of nowhere, really, falling gently into his lap.

There is no cure.

He squinted to read it, and then realized there was something on the back as well.

You already knew that.

He found himself nodding to the piece of paper. "That was... oddly specific. And likely true."

[Open] Not Amused.

[your_destiny]

The teenager was walking upon the village's streets, intending to get to the markets and see if the price of fish was finally starting to be on the more affordable side.

A piece of paper, however, as attracted by some strange magnetism, drifted onto him. He caught it, briefly looking around tos ee if anyone had lost it. No one was in the immediate vincinty. A shrug. If important information was on it, perhaps he may seek the ower, although important things were generally not tossed to the wind.

The words he saw written froze him to his core, even they were ones he had said many times before.

No one can escape Fate.

White eyes, unreadable as ever, stared at the paper.