'Ｆａｋｅｒ 偽り者 ' {Naruto Various}

' 1 '

14 years old:

It's been a year or two since his escape

He's been living in the snowy mountains, too terrified to wonder back down to civilization bellow.

It was freezing up there in the mountains, snow storms were common and happened often, temperatures dropped rapidly to the point that the water all froze when made contact with the air outside.

But (Y/N) has learnt to survive.

Like he said on the night of his escape, he didn't plan on dying so soon. He was free now, he had so much he wanted to do, to learn, to explore, to experience. Everything was holding him back, guilts, his backstory, his actions, but he was willing to push through with force.

He wanted to start over now,
He wanted to discover and learn at his own pace and live life on his lane instead of somebody else's.

A freelancer, a rogue, a traveler, whatever that gave him as much freedom as possible.

But with his history and past, he'd have to lie and bury his past to do so.

First on (Y/N)'s list was now to go down the mountain and wonder around to try and get a grasp on what reality really is out of a cell and what state the village is in after the ambush.

Pulling the singular strapped backpack over his back as he pulled the hood of his cloak over his head. Pulling on the fingerless gloves that he found on a body of a traveler who died of hypothermia during a snow storm. Unlike many, (Y/N) has grown almost imune to temperature changes.

His eyes scanned over to the damaged and scratched up headband he currently curled in his grip. (Y/n) was determined to over-lay his past to move on.

It was now or never.

.
.
.

A few hours of walking, (Y/N) found himself at the foot of the mountain at the entrance of a small town, it was completely empty, a ghost town of a village was what was left now.

It seemed to have been in shambles, destroyed, over growned, burned, and utterly destroyed. Everything was left in a hurry, everything was thrown around everywhere, papers littered the ground, windows broken, doors left open, and objects just dropped.

The entire village from his childhood had this odd atmosphere, then again the village itself wasn't always the most welcoming to him, but either way they were kind before the incident.

(Y/N) continued to walk, the village had blood stains spotted everywhere. The walls, doors, windows, and pavement were all lined with blood of 'used to be bodies' which were now cleaned out. The (h/c)-nette took a step into the town's square, lighting his gaze to look at the empty ropes which were tinted red, squinting his eyes in discomfort at the memories that flooded his thoughts.

Looking down to the floor, he found all the shattered and broken headbands from the old shinobi.

God, this was all too much, he just got down from that damn mountain as he stood before the hanging podium that killed the people who raised him.

Gently, he ran a hand down his face, a motion that just usually helped relaxed himself.

Looking up from his hands too look at the empty town, other than the podium that he stood before. It was all green, lavish, plants grew as you had a straight view to the forest that transcended to the snowy mountain.

. . . So much for the 'free' life if he still had all this guilt still overlapping his shoulders.

One last sigh left his lips as he leaned back to look at the cloudless sky, it was indeed beautiful the scenary at least.