My Life in A Naruto High School. Naruto Shippuden Story

50 Thousand Tears

"Daseke means alone, so be alone Yuki Daseke." Itachi says as he stabs me with a kunai.

I wake up screaming.

“It’s ok!” Someone says trying to hold me down. I stop screaming, realizing it was just a dream.

I’m in a hospital! Why?!? I think, trying to get out of bed.

“No! Stay in bed young lady!” A nurse yells. I stop moving a glare at her, and sit back in bed.

“Why am I here?” I ask.

“Naruto Uzumaki carried you in here, 5 days ago. The scar on your stomach, had what looked like blue fire painted around it. But it wasn’t painted, It’s on your body, and it only appears when your scar burns.” She says. Lady Tsunade walks into my room, and tells the nurse she can leave.

“were did you get that scar?” Asks Lady Tsunade. I look at the window, hot tears threatening to get out. I take a deep breath and look at her straight in the eyes.

“Itachi Uchiha.” I say, watching her expression change from unreadable, to shock, to horror, and then to thoughtful.

“It was the day he wiped out both the Uchiha clan… and yours, the Daseke Clan?” She asks, Looking serious. I nod.

“Tell me what happened what he said when he stabbed you.” She instructs. I sigh and look out the window.

“I tried to get to my parents but he intercepted me and pinned me against the wall. I asked why he killed my clan. He said they got in the way. I told him to kill me. I had nothing to live for anymore. He said: "I'm not going to kill you, I'm going to leave you with a reminder of what happened. Daseke means alone, so be alone Yuki Daseke.". Then he stabbed my in the stomach with his kunai, and left it there, stuck in my stomach. I don’t know what happened after that because I blacked out.” I didn’t feel like crying, I was done with crying.

“We found out what’s wrong with your scar. It’s a special jutsu, that Itachi created, only he could perform it. He never named it. But you need the victim’s blood to make it work. It can only be used with an injury inside the circle. It’s a jutsu, used to torment a person. To torment you. The worst it does is remind you, and burn. No one knows how to release it, except for Itachi.” She says. I look away. “You can leave anytime.” She says, and leaves, just like that. Like it’s no big deal, like I’m no big deal. I change back to my normal close, and leave the hospital.

I sit down by the river, staring at the water, oblivious to everything and everyone around me, just thinking.

“Enjoying yourself?” Asks Kiba.

“Yeah, Enjoying myself.” I say, like a zombie, because that’s how I feel, dead.

“Hey, are you alright?” He asks, sitting beside me and pulling my chin so I’ll look at him. “Your eyes are glossy, Yuki.” He sounded worried. I looked back at the river. “Come on.” He says, picking me up. “Jesus Christ Yuki.” He mumbles.

A Few Minutes Later

Kiba’s still carrying me.

“Were you taking me?” I say, my voice still sounding like a zombie, but I don’t care.

“To my house.” He says. I slowly nod and rest my head on his shoulder.

“What happened to you.” He mumbles, not really expecting me to answer. I fall asleep.

"I'm not going to kill you, I'm going to leave you with a reminder of what happened. Daseke means alone, so be alone Yuki Daseke." He says, stabbing me in the stomach with his kunai.

I wake up clutching my scar and gasping. I feel a hand on my back. I calm down and look to see Kiba.

“Why were you mumbling ‘why Itachi’”? Kiba asks, calm, cool, and collected. “ And why are you a member of the living dead all of a sudden?”

“It’s a long story.” I say.

“We aren’t going anywhere.” He says, staring me in the eyes. So I tell him… everything. When I was seven, about my scar, and what happened in the hospital. He didn’t look at me like I was crazy, or interrupt me. After I was done explaining, I stared at the wall.

“Sh** Yuki. You got it bad.” He says. I nod. I look at where I’m at, I’m on his bed. I quickly get up.

“Sorry.” I say.

“No big deal.” He says. He looks at me. “How many tears does a girl have to cry before it’s all alright.” He asks sadly. I smile, but it’s sad, and I know it.

“50 Thousand.” I answer.