Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Colorful Darkness ❯ A Violent Return ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: Well, everyone else writes them, so I guess I should as well. The only thing I own in the story is the Original character. Other than that I don't own a damn thing, let alone Naruto.

 

Note: I am only sure about one of my pairings right now. Tenten and my OC. I'm considering NaruSaku, NaruHina, and SasuSaku. The first will cancel out the other two. Give me your opinions.

 

Colorful Darkness

Fuuma

 

Chapter 1

A Violent Return

 

A lone figure flew through the dense tree tops of fire country, arms swept back, feet occasionally touch a branch to propel itself forward. The trees streamed past in a blur showing the incredible speed at which the figured traveled, despite the seeming ease of motion and sense relaxation. Not too far behind a series of shifting shadows, unnatural in the twilight, attested to the reality of vigorous pursuit.

 

The figure shook his head, a soft chuckle coming from between well formed lips. A single hand seal was formed, words were whispered, “Kage Bunshin no Jutsu,” and one male body suddenly became four. The three clones and the original took off in completely separate directions. *I should just turn around and kill them* came the thought of his inner voice, followed quickly by the voice of his more rational side, *no, I'm almost home. As long as they don't get any closer, I can let the ANBU deal with them.*

 

There was a rustle to either side of him, and his head jerked up in surprise as he felt his three clones disperse after being attacked. He shifted his next step to slow down and dropped to the ground, sighing softly. “You might as well come out. Come on, let's get this over with. I want to get home before it gets too dark.” Soundlessly, he was surrounded, as unidentified shinobi faded into the dying light. There was at least a score of them, and they bore a variety of weapons, running the gamut from the basic kunai and shuriken to more exotic chains and katars.

 

One of the unidentifiable ninjas snarled, “Did you think you would get away? No one betrays us and lives.” With that said, a dam seemed to break loose in the group as they surged forward, intent on overwhelming him by sheer numbers. Their efforts were less than successful, however, as they were met with coldly efficient brutality.

 

“First of all,” he said calmly, running one gloved hand over the black bandanna that covered his entire head, his tone more suitable for a peaceful dinner, or perhaps a philosophical discussion, rather than a life and death situation, “I was never loyal to you in the first place, so I can't betray you.” With a flick of his wrists, two fuuma shurikens appeared in his hands. With practiced ease, he spun them so that the four large curved blades on each locked into place. Spinning, he snapped his arms out to either side of him, releasing the weapons into the faces of the two closest adversaries.

 

Instead of stopping, the spinning blades sheared through the necks of the two enemy nins, the attack catching them off guard. Ten feet out, the massive shurikens stopped, invisible guide wires allowing him to control the movements as the blades hummed softly, spinning a razor edged dance of death around him. The remaining enemy shinobi were understandably hesitant to approach within his range after watching the bodies of their comrades slump to the ground in fountains of their own blood.

 

“Secondly,” he continued, as if nothing had happened, his body spinning with careful control to keep the wires from tangling, “if you wanted to stop me, you should have brought a hell of a lot more of your friends with you.” Chuckling mirthlessly, he watched the group fill their hands with shuriken and kunai, obviously planning to try him from a distance. Twitching two fingers on each hand, he drew the fuuma shurikens back to him, his arms crossing over his chest to absorb the force of the impact of the fast spinning weapons.

 

*I guess it can't be helped. ANBU might have let some of them escape with their lives, or taken some captives. I'm not going to was my time.* “And finally,” he said softly, his voice changing slightly in depth and tone as it mirrored his inner voice, killing intent suddenly radiating off of him, “you can't kill me. In fact, none of you are going to leave here alive.” Even before he finished his sentence the air was filled with steel, the unknown shinobi launching a literal storm of razor edged steel in his direction. Jumping straight up, he inverted his body, feet pointed to the sky as he went into a spin, launching the massive shurikens from his hands. A series of quick seals were formed, “Taiju Fuuma Shuriken Kage Bunshin no Jutsu,” his voice rang across the clearing, the necessity of quiet long since passed. Instantly, in the place of two, there were literally hundreds of fuuma shurikens ripping through the air. They screamed through the air, knocking most of the enemy projectiles out of the way. Most ended up in trees, slashing deep before disappearing in a puff of smoke. Still, many struck the intended targets, embedding into bodies, or in some case slashing right through, drawing bright streamers of blood into the lingering twilight.

 

Flipping back over and landing, he suddenly felt something caress the top of his head. Reaching up, he felt were a shuriken had cut through his bandanna without cutting into his head. He grunted in annoyance, then turned to find one lone ninja standing, arm still extended from the throw, eyes wide in fear and shock from watching his comrades being butchered with one jutsu. “What did you do, hide behind a tree?” he asked, taking a slow step towards his final adversary, “Do you realize how hard it is to find good bandanas that can cover all of my hair?” he pointed up to the cut in the bandana, which had spread to reveal shocking pink hair. He didn't wait for an answer.

 

He seemed to disappear, moving too fast for the enemy nin's eyes to follow. As he charged, he reached behind his back, drawing the long Boken that he kept there. “kagegiri,” came the whisper on the wind, before he reappeared behind him, replacing the boken in it's holder. The enemy shinobi was dead before he knew it, half his torso severed in one cut from the wooden sword.

 

He looked around the clearing, his ice blue eyes scanning coldly. “What a mess,” he whispered, sighing softly, “Konoha jounin aren't so easy to kill, even those of us who haven't been home in years.” There was blood everywhere, his storm of giant shurikens painting the forest red with the viscous liquid. The clone shurikens had already disappeared, their purpose served, and the two originals cut a path deep into the forest. He shrugged, then walked away, heading in the direction he had been traveling before this unpleasant encounter occurred.

 

As he walked, he reached into his pocket, drawing out a Konoha leaf forehead protector. He bounced it in his palm a few times, then held it up to his forehead. Tying it in place, he smiled contentedly, for what felt like the first time in years. He was actually humming to himself when the massive gates of Hidden Village of the Leaf came into view.

 

He stood in front of the gates, looking at the two ANBU guards that stood waiting, knowing that there where two more in hiding nearby. He smiled at the expressionless animal masks, and simply walked straight up to them.

 

“Are you responsible for the massive chakra surge we felt a little while ago?” this question was addressed to him by the ANBU on his right, wearing the mask of a hawk. Another squad of four animal masked shinobi dropped to the ground behind him. They had been following him since just after he left the scene of the battle, though they didn't approach.

 

“That would be me. 20 enemy nin dead, no casualties to be reported, except my bandana,” he said, his voice empty, stating facts, though there was a hint of mischief in his eyes. His comment drew their attention to the top of his head, and it gratified him to see their startled reactions at his hair color. One didn't surprise Konoha ANBU very often.

 

“State your name and business. You wear the clothing and symbol of Konoha, but I don't recognize you.

 

He smiled, his posture relaxed and open, “My name is Haruno Daisuke. My rank is Jounin. And I'm returning home.”

 

 

 

Afternote: Read and Review please. If you see something I did wrong, please tell me. If you flame me, that's all good, I'm wearing fire proof underwear, so the important stuff is safe.