Naruto Fan Fiction ❯ Endless ❯ Path ( Chapter 6 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
At first Shisui thought he had been caught in some sort of genjutsu. One minute he had been running for his life on the wet, midnight streets of some city in Ame, the next he was in some hedge maze, the sun shining bright above him. What else was he supposed to believe?
But . . . were genjutsu supposed to be so realistic? The ninja felt the breeze on his face, and raised his hand to stroke one of the white flowers blooming on the hedge. He’d heard of illusions that went beyond sight, but to even affect smell and touch? He discreetly formed kai but the scenery didn’t change.
Not a genjutsu then. Or maybe just a very advanced one, but . . . Shisui activated his Sharingan. No, that didn’t do anything either. Besides, he was Shisui the Mirage, the number of people capable of trapping him in an illusion could be counted on one hand and the chance of one of those people being here was infinitely small.
(There was Itachi, but why would Itachi try to trap him?)
Shisui’s next thought was that he had been knocked out, but that was unlikely too. Anyone capable on rendering him unconscious wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave him alive. Besides, this was unlike any dream the Uchiha had ever had before. For someone whose nickname was Mirage, Shisui was a rather unimaginative person. His dreams were always silent and monotone, nothing like what he was experiencing here. “So if this isn’t a genjutsu , and I’m not slumped over somewhere dreaming, I must be dead.” He concluded.
“Not quite.” The shinobi jumped. There was a man behind him, at least half a foot taller than him, who held a book that was chained to his arm. Shisui was disconcerted by the contrast between the all enveloping cloak and hood that the man wore and his bare feet. “Who the hell are you?”
“I am Destiny, Eldest of the Endless.” The Uchiha shivered. The pronouncement should have been absurd, comedic in its grandiosity, but instead he could feel the power behind it. Nevertheless, he put up a brave front. “And what does that mean?”
“I am the one who holds the book, of all that has been, is, and will be.”
“Oh, really? Then do you know how everything began?” The man opened the book to a page about a quarter of the way through and showed it to him. “How it all ends?” A page a fifth from the end. “Okay, I believe you.” Shisui looked around him. “Where am I?”
“You are here in my garden.”
“Okay,” he decided he really did not want to know how an anthropomorphic manifestation of Time or Fate or whatever Destiny was created a garden, or what sort of metaphorical weirdness lay under what he was seeing. If the eldritch abomination was kind enough to appear in a form he was more comfortable with, he wasn’t going to push it. “Why am I in your garden? Am I here to make a choice that will affect my life or something? Pick one of these paths and not the other?”
“There is only one path.” The Mirage shot a strange look at his companion. “Uh, no I can clearly see many openings leading away from this junction.”
“It may appear that there are many paths in front of you, but if you turn around, you will realize that there has only been one your entire life.”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve had many choices in my life. This isn’t the only fork in the road I’ve ever experienced and it won’t be the last.” The hooded man stayed quiet. “Look, just tell me which path leads me out of here and back to the real world. I need to go help my cousin.” He ignored the twinge in his gut that told him Itachi was more likely to rescue him than the other way around.
“Follow the route that you are compelled to take.”
“Yeah, that was very helpful.” Shisui turned his back on Destiny and studied the openings before him. He closed his eyes and thought. There on the edge of his hearing, he heard Itachi calling his name. Turning towards the gap to his left, he ran, chasing the voice of his friend.
Converting /tmp/phpe5147X to /dev/stdout
But . . . were genjutsu supposed to be so realistic? The ninja felt the breeze on his face, and raised his hand to stroke one of the white flowers blooming on the hedge. He’d heard of illusions that went beyond sight, but to even affect smell and touch? He discreetly formed kai but the scenery didn’t change.
Not a genjutsu then. Or maybe just a very advanced one, but . . . Shisui activated his Sharingan. No, that didn’t do anything either. Besides, he was Shisui the Mirage, the number of people capable of trapping him in an illusion could be counted on one hand and the chance of one of those people being here was infinitely small.
(There was Itachi, but why would Itachi try to trap him?)
Shisui’s next thought was that he had been knocked out, but that was unlikely too. Anyone capable on rendering him unconscious wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave him alive. Besides, this was unlike any dream the Uchiha had ever had before. For someone whose nickname was Mirage, Shisui was a rather unimaginative person. His dreams were always silent and monotone, nothing like what he was experiencing here. “So if this isn’t a genjutsu , and I’m not slumped over somewhere dreaming, I must be dead.” He concluded.
“Not quite.” The shinobi jumped. There was a man behind him, at least half a foot taller than him, who held a book that was chained to his arm. Shisui was disconcerted by the contrast between the all enveloping cloak and hood that the man wore and his bare feet. “Who the hell are you?”
“I am Destiny, Eldest of the Endless.” The Uchiha shivered. The pronouncement should have been absurd, comedic in its grandiosity, but instead he could feel the power behind it. Nevertheless, he put up a brave front. “And what does that mean?”
“I am the one who holds the book, of all that has been, is, and will be.”
“Oh, really? Then do you know how everything began?” The man opened the book to a page about a quarter of the way through and showed it to him. “How it all ends?” A page a fifth from the end. “Okay, I believe you.” Shisui looked around him. “Where am I?”
“You are here in my garden.”
“Okay,” he decided he really did not want to know how an anthropomorphic manifestation of Time or Fate or whatever Destiny was created a garden, or what sort of metaphorical weirdness lay under what he was seeing. If the eldritch abomination was kind enough to appear in a form he was more comfortable with, he wasn’t going to push it. “Why am I in your garden? Am I here to make a choice that will affect my life or something? Pick one of these paths and not the other?”
“There is only one path.” The Mirage shot a strange look at his companion. “Uh, no I can clearly see many openings leading away from this junction.”
“It may appear that there are many paths in front of you, but if you turn around, you will realize that there has only been one your entire life.”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve had many choices in my life. This isn’t the only fork in the road I’ve ever experienced and it won’t be the last.” The hooded man stayed quiet. “Look, just tell me which path leads me out of here and back to the real world. I need to go help my cousin.” He ignored the twinge in his gut that told him Itachi was more likely to rescue him than the other way around.
“Follow the route that you are compelled to take.”
“Yeah, that was very helpful.” Shisui turned his back on Destiny and studied the openings before him. He closed his eyes and thought. There on the edge of his hearing, he heard Itachi calling his name. Turning towards the gap to his left, he ran, chasing the voice of his friend.
Converting /tmp/phpe5147X to /dev/stdout