Spinning Scarlet (MadaNaru)

Chapter 1: Red Flesh Wound

Scarlet, a heinous shade marring all corners he cast fragile cobalt irises towards. Staining weapons, clothing, armour, and people- surrounding him, seemingly forever inescapable. The bile aroused itself within his esophagus when his vision was drowned with the sight- corrupted by its commonality. None paid heed as he did, a natural sight unto them- indeed a welcomed one, warming and familiar, a sign of protection and kinship; therein the succour of home. Well-nigh, worth the observation merely to witness how such a tainted colour could become- could register, as a serenity unto the mind; alas, it was an abstruse concept upon him, yet not one that fogged over his attention. Already he had been blemished by disgust, hands blemished by the substance of blood; still wet upon the armour he was polishing for next battle. Not his own, as commanded he had no place for fight; yet, though even he knew the time fast approached, an instinct within his gut proclaimed so, the whispers of his relatives confirmed his apprehensions. A knowledge he had come to view with dread, a tribulation that had become a stone pressing down ever further upon him.

Though it was meant to be surreptitious, whispered, but never truly spoken of in loud wonderings; word did escape when he had the ears to listen, a moment of mishappened gossip; it had become obvious that he was not intended to be a soldier, not a defence, nor a medic, no- Naruto knew he was to be used a weapon ensuring success; it was lost unto him why they viewed him with such ire, yet believed so fervently that he could become a great tool for their use. Indeed, he did not know, by explanation; though the intuition had crawled into his mind that it was because of his expeditious healing ability. In the brief margin of his blithe childhood- indeed marking the ending of his jocund innocence; he had been involved in an accident. Wondering a slight away from his clan's encampment in hope of minor adventure, he had been confronted by a blade puncturing his hand, he had screamed violent- and as his family -at the time- had been near the enemy had been swiftly and uncaringly killed. However, as the wound was to be seen to, cleaned and healed, his thigh had already lost its previous pain, and when examined nothing dictating injury remained. Thus, by natural progression, he had been thoroughly scrutinized, an experience he had not had before, though it hadn't been a reason to run -he wonders now that if he had, if his life would no longer strain him in despair.- It had marked his downfall, he knew not what, he had no information to the reasoning; the reason his Matriarch's face had churned while speaking to the healer and a random healer amongst them- he knew not why the man's face had turned, twisted, from horror to confusion, and then into a vicious smirk he had yet to dislodge from the plaguing memory.

Naruto was not entirely illogical, though some of his previous actions would dictate such an opinion. No, he speculated, quite highly, that his quick healing was due to whatever they had found that day; and that his healing was only a part of the reason they desired him as a type of weapon. An understanding, though one he spent no time considering, contemplation would only bring him swift to danger, panic or a coalesence of both- the latter most probable within his continuing string of life.

Sunlight pierced his eyes, from the flap as another entered, he forced himself not to head the newcomer as he cleaned, even though his eyes narrowed with the sudden intrusion and he was now staring at glinting metal. The sound of crunching dirt stopped just afore him, and out the side of this iris he could see sandals. Though his vision did not stray from his work. Red though the armour was, looking up would make his mind flinch and retch forward, his sight becoming ever more sensitive to the vulgar primary. However, he was given little choice as his chin was forced upwards from a combatitive grip, fingers indenting his skin pressing hard into his jaw. Had he not known the reprimand, he would have closed his eyes immediately, but he did- and while he healed without pause, pain was still tedious. Therein he was faced once more with the profane scarlet he despised. It fell around his Matriarch's face in graceful waves, a blooded waterfall to his chest, his eyes the much the same and both contrasting against pale skin. The man was beautiful, a gorgeous Omega, yet Naruto could deny that fact- his hair, his eyes, were forever repulsive unto him and Naruto was certain his opinion would remain until he was killed, beeth that in war or by hand of his own kin.