Amnesiac [A Naruto Fanfiction]

Training

Death trained me day in day out until I collapsed in exhaustion. I didn't mind. Why would I? Not like I had anything better to do.

I found out that when I run out of chakra, I don't die. Of course I don't, why would I? Not like chakra is my life energy, or anything. It's just the power of will and imagination combined with physical effort. That's how Death described it anyways.

I collapse under the extra weight added to me. Death scoffs, twirling his scythe.

"It's a mere three tons, get up." I struggle, my arms and legs shaking as I try to stand up. I fail.

"I do not believe it is a good method of training to do a ton at a time, I just got used to two tons, Death-sama." He also taught me all I'd need to know in this world while I was trying to stand up with two tons.

"Don't be a civilian, you'll never survive in this world if you can't lift at least five tons with your pinky finger." I sigh, agreeing. He told me of Kaguya, and how strong the bunny woman was. If I can't even lift five tons with my pinky finger, how would I punch her into never ever after?

I struggle under the three tons, unable to even lift a limb.

"Well anyways, while you struggle, if a measure moving at 100 kilometers a second 20 degrees above eye level is headed towards you at noon while you eat at a buffet with chopsticks and food around you, how would you deal with it?"

~A few years later~

"Another. I am used to twenty tons by now." Death twirls his scythe in boredom.

"The seal is at it's maximum weight right now. Your basic training is now done. Now, onto ninja basics." I then realize what that means and decide to collapse in exhaustion instead.

~A few more years later~

"Hey, Death." I say, watching as he carves an elaborate picture into a tree.

"Hm?"

"I have two questions. First, since in total I've spent about a hundred years in time stop, does that make me about a hundred and thirteen years old mentally? Second, why are you drawing stickmen on that tree?" I ask, pointing at the tree.

Death coughs, spinning around and covering his stickmen. "No, since you haven't mentally aged at all, and I don't know what you're talking about." I nod, accepting the answer.

I observe the scenery, watching the sunlight bash against the lake's water harshly, watching as birds fly overhead singing a cheery song, watch as a bee lands on a flower, a squirrel runs up a tree, an eagle swoops down, picks up a rabbit, and caws a victory as it goes to it's nest. I watch as the clouds wander without purpose through the sapphire blue sky.

"Am I going on another charisma check?" I ask, wondering why time was resumed.

"No, you're done training, make sure to do your daily warm ups, though." I nod, not caring that I'll most likely never see Death again. He doesn't care either.

We stare at each other.

"How long has it been since the battle we met at? A year? A decade?" I ask.

"A few days. A week at most." I frown.

"Oh. Have a good rest-of-existence, Death. See you or your subordinates later." He nods at me, and we both walk our separate ways. During our training he never figured out what I am, and I never allowed myself to remember.

I'm once again alone, with more memories to burden me. I wonder if I'll worry. No, I won't. He's a god, he can take care of himself.

I start walking in one direction, having nothing better to do until I get hungry or thirsty, or run into someone.

What a great way to finish the day, collapsing near a familiar river.

"If life is a cycle, who's to say death isn't as well?"