Rage
/rāj/
noun
violent, uncontrollable anger.
//
The Hokage hadn't given him time to say goodbye to Chisaka or to collect his belongings. He hadn't even been given time to change; he was still dressed in the clothes they'd worn to Aiya's funeral, with his threadbare jacket and scarf wrapped over his hair. Instead, the Hokage had had his ANBU pick him up and forcibly carry him to the apartment.
Needless to say, Naruto had not been pleased. He kicked and screamed and made a fuss the entire way there.
Currently, the small orphan looked around the sparsely furnished rundown apartment with a deep scowl etched on his face. The apartment was old, creaky, and was located in the heart of the Red Light District, near the Yūkaku. The blond child looked around at his surroundings, hands curled around his bag as he frowned.
They were forcing him to become a shinobi. The leader of the village came personally to tell him the good news with a smile on his face like he was expected to respond joyfully, that he should be honoured that his choices -permanent life-altering choices- were being made for him.
It would be one thing if it had been his choice, but he hadn't even gotten a say at all. They were signing him up to a life of fighting, taking away his freedom and future from him, making it all seem like they were bestowing upon him some sort of gift. He didn't want to serve Konohakagure!
It wasn't fair. This was his life. It belonged to him. They had no right to decide what he did with his life. They had no right to take his choices away from him
The orphan stood in the decrepit living room, his body shaking in rage. How dare they? How dare they try to control him? How dare they try to control his life? He wouldn't let them. He wouldn't be a fucking prisoner in his own body. He wouldn't!
He hissed, a low animalistic snarl escaping his throat, as he raged against the village, its people, its leader. His vision grew scarlet and he saw red coils spread from his body, circling his small form like ominous wisps of energy. He felt his nails extend into claws, the feral growls rumbling louder and louder in his mind. The heat encompassed his entire form and his mind whirred in a cacophony of angry, hateful and spiteful thoughts. He felt the room fade slowly, the red colours overtaking his vision with each passing second. He frowned to himself in confusion, his mind feeling muddled and heavy. He swayed on his feet as his anger began subsiding slowly as he gazed at the red coils omitting from his body in alarm. His eyes widened as he stared down at his hands in horror.
Claws?
His fingernails had sharpened into vicious claws in his moment of intense rage. He felt the claws recede, disappearing as if they were never there as his anger quickly turned into fear.
"What the fuck?" He whispered in a low tone, blinking in bewilderment at his hand, raw and red.
A strong feeling of wrong wrong wrong encompassed his entire form as he began shaking. He stumbled in shock and fell to the ground, his knees slamming to the hardwood harshly as he blinked around him in bewilderment. The red raw power rushed forward towards him and engulfed his body in a wave of oppressive heat, disappearing under his flesh, making him feel tired and out of breath.
The orphan sat on the ground stunned, his breathing erratic as he gazed down at his hands in confusion and concern.
"What da hell was dat!?" He yelled, his mind spinning in confusion and alarm.
YOU ARE READING
Blood of the Broken, Scars of the Spiral (there are whirlpools in our veins)
Fanfiction"I wish I could be here to teach you what that means, to teach you what being a child of Uzushiogakure means... I wish I could teach you our history, our customs, because I know that Konoha won't teach you, I just know," Kushina couldn't help her bi...
