My Honor | A Naruto Fanfiction

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As Masaru wandered the streets of Shimogakure, he felt cold stares piercing his back. They weren't hateful, necessarily, just suspicious.

Around this part of town, it was well known that Masaru's parents were both skillful shinobi that would always complete their missions.

Except for one.

When Masaru was around three years old, his parents left on a mission and never returned. He's lived alone for most of his life and couldn't even recall what they looked like. Once it was announced that Masaru's parents were MIA, rumors began to filter through the villagers that they had betrayed the village for their own personal gain, and soon escalated to accusing of Masaru of hiding the truth of his parents sudden disappearance.

Masaru, however, knew in his heart that his parents were dead.

Such rumors were foolish to him. They were both shinobi, and although their reputation was practically flawless, there will always be someone more powerful. The villagers just couldn't believe that some of the most powerful ninja in the village just vanished suddenly, and thus the rumors began.

His long, black ponytail trailed behind him as he ignored the stares from the villagers, the young man used to all of the unneeded attention he received. He was heading towards the weapons shop, deciding that he could use a new pack of kunai and perhaps some more wire.

A soft bell chimes as Masaru enters the shop, his black cloak fluttering behind him as he passes by the shop owner who watched his every move from behind the counter. Masaru sighs, figuring that the shop owner should be used to him by now, since he always came to this shop for his ninja supplies. Still, though, the shop owner didn't trust him, having heard the rumors of the villagers.

Quickly grabbing a set of his standard kunai, Masaru travels back to the front counter and places it in front of the owner, silently pulling out his wallet and giving him the exact change for his item. As always, the shop owner counts all of it before pushing the kunai towards Masaru, who picks it up and tucks it into his cloak, exiting the shop and back into the pool of curious stares.

This was just Masaru's life, and he had grown accustomed to it. He gained practically no joy from anything in his life other than his work as a shinobi with his team. They were as close as family to him, and he had no problem defending any of them at any point in time.

Masaru's onyx eyes stare forward as he silently reminisces his time in the academy, back when he had a burning hatred for everyone in his class, especially Kenji. Masaru saw him as an outsider from Kumogakure who everyone seemed to like, even though he was a stranger to everyone.

So, for as long as he was in the academy, he had hoped that he wouldn't be on the same team as the blond. But, as luck had it, they were indeed on the same team. Back then, Masaru was cold and rude, assuming that everyone was out to get him because of his parents.

But that changed when he really got to know his team.

They had easily accepted him, shrugging off the rumors going around the village since they understood that sometimes even the greatest shinobi fall. And thus began the deep loyalty Masaru felt for his team who he considered a small family.

An almost unnoticeable smile crawls across Masaru's face as he thought about Kenji, Atsuko, and Naomi. Yes, he could bare whatever the villagers thought of him, as long as his team was there for him.

::

A tick echoes from the clock on the wall, catching Atsuko's attention from her position on the couch. She had just finished scolding her brothers for disobeying her orders and going near Arctic River, although she doubted they would ever do it again.