Heavy Rain (1)

In this mess of a village where the adults were busy murdering each other, the battlefield where the blood rained non-stop,

I witnessed.

"Why?"

One man. The man wearing the forehead protector of Amegakure: the Village Hidden by Rain. One glance was enough for anyone to identify him as the shinobi affiliated with this village that I belonged to.

That man. I was sure that he had a mission to fulfill. Judging by the explosive seals attached all around his torso, I concluded that it was a suicide mission of some sort. Yet, after sighting me surrounded by those ninjas from the Konohagakure, the man discarded the chance to deal a critical blow upon the enemies, and rescued me instead.

'...What a weird guy,' I thought. It was whistling loudly as the man's grip on me tightened. One by one, the inactivated explosive seals were detached from the man's torso as we continued to move away from the intruders, with the man's feet autonomously pushing off against the tree branches that we were passing by.

"Ha... ha..."

It was evident that this man has already reached his limit. I couldn't help but wonder, why would he do this for me, a worthless child?

"Why, you ask?"

The man had dark bags under his sunken eyes. A hollow being with no will to survive—he was putting all his remaining strength for me, though we were strangers to one another.

"...Have you... heard of peace?"

"Peace?"

"The day that the kids like you get to laugh and play around without any worry. The day that no one has to die. The day that no hatred lingers by. Though it's impossible... yes, though it's naive..."

I unconsciously focused my attention to the man's words. What was just spoken out of the man's mouth... certainly brought a strange and tingling feeling to my heart.

"It is the dream worthy of living for, isn't... it?"

Although the man was sweating profusely, although his exhausted voice was muffled a little due to the whistling wind, I found myself quite amazed.

'Peace? Such thing exists?'

Since who-knows-when, the village was in a war. The memories of my parents—the ones who taught me many things—were hazy in this gloomy circumstance. Without any goal but a pure instinct, I wandered from place to place, trying to survive.

How old was I even? I didn't know.

"I accepted this mission, yes. But, upon sighting you, I knew," The man smiled, "it's for the children like you that I was ready to sacrifice my life. If so, isn't it natural for me to prioritize your safety first?"

The man suddenly stopped. From the back, I could see—the dozen of foes rapidly dashing toward the two of us.

Letting me down to the wet plain, the man whispered,

"So go. Don't look back."

My eyes widened—I couldn't help but watch the man's determined eyes.

For a brief moment, I found my heart beating fast,

'I want to become like him.'

Peace.

'I want to know what peace means.'

If the life that I am living right now isn't everything, if there truly is something worthy for me to pursuit for,

<Live on. Don't worry about your mom and dad. We... we are just taking a short rest.>

if I can see the bright sun rising above the ever-raining Amegakure, if the rain ceases and the mesmerizing rainbow overthrows the foggy sky,

"And survive. Just like how I did to you—help them, will you?"

just like this virtuous adult standing in front of me, I want to become a ninja.

"...What's your name, shinobi-san?"

The gentle hand pushed me away, but I momentarily held my ground.

"Heh, 'shinobi-san' is enough for me."

My body ceased to resist against the gentle push. Though my mind was blank, I instinctively turned around.

"Run."

I ran and ran. Without looking back, I stormed off of the scene.

That man suffered a horrible fate without a doubt. He was murdered in a cold blood. However, for some reason, instead of cowering under such a terrifying truth, I found a new hope entering within me.

And when I looked at my surrounding, I found myself huffing in front of the foul-mooded ninjas of Amegakure, who were guarding an entrance into the safe zone.

__________

Some time passed. How much? I had no idea. I didn't have enough sense of relaxation to bother counting.

Even now, I was busy munching on a nearly rotten apple that I managed to acquire by… a theft.

'...So, what now?'

I found myself contemplating. This village was depressing as ever, and so was my current situation.

"Hey!"

Then, I froze. That shout—it was clearly targetting me. I gazed down as the fruit that I was in midst of eating, for the shout was because of this for sure.

Without a visible response, I stood up. With the half-eaten apple on my left hand, I turned around.

The source of the shout was a malnourished boy in a similar state as me. His eyes seemed half-crazed, and he was unconsciously drooling. Though he was visibly frail, he was trying to come off as threatening.

"H-hand over that... that right now."

I understood him very well. When you are hungry, you lose the capability to think. The hunger dominates your mind, and you simply become an animal craving for a way to survive. I mean, I too was in a similar state when I resorted to a thievery.

I knew that the boy was out of an option. For us who were born in this miserable era, the only way to survive is either to take someone else's or to die.

Therefore, there was no hesitation.

"Here."

I threw the apple to the boy, who looked bewildered as he caught the apple in glee.

That boy seemed to have questions. Of course, who would offer kindness in this situation? But regardless, he yielded to hunger and finished the apple within seconds.

"...Thank you."

Though the hunger didn't disappear, the boy's consciousness returned instead. Scratching the back of his head in guilt, the boy thanked me. He seemed to be a good guy—berating himself for an attempt to commit wrong.

"You're welcome."

And frankly speaking, there wasn't anything more for me to say. The atmosphere turned quite awkward as the boy lost his hostility.

"Uh..."

The boy then asked with a blush,

"My name is Yahiko. What's yours?"

'...Good question.'

Upon hearing the boy's question, I raised my head up and looked at the rainy sky.

"My name, huh."

It hasn't been thought of for years. I needed some time to recall.

Before the event with that shinobi, before searching for food, when I was with my parents,

a young boy with brown hair and blue-coloured eyes, whose parents named as—

"Akashi."

—Akashi.

Unfortunately, that was all that I could remember.