Saruto | The Bloodline Prophecy (Part 1)

Chapter 5: Under the Veil

"Saruto?"

"Y-yes?"

There was a white blinding light peeking through the trees above me in midday. I answered the call of my name. I was no longer in pain. It was peaceful. The warmth of the sun kissed my face as a hand reached out. Grabbing it, I was lifted from the ground. With my head now held up and vision returning to normal, I searched my surroundings and the figure to which the hand belonged to. I remember its touch as it slipped past mine. I was all too familiar.

Soon I was met with grass beneath my legs and flowers of a garden surrounding me. The sound of the water from the fountain gave me happy memories of childhood. It brought me back to the days when I played with Haru and Tsuki in the meadows behind my home. In flashes I saw my aunt nagging at us to keep our distance from the Gladiolus'. They were my grandfather's favorite. To him the flower symbolizes strength of character, faithfulness and honor. My grandmother argued that it was a flower of remembrance and memory.

Observing the hand that had reached out to me I noticed a mark that was more distinct than I could ever remember. A small black diamond sitting right at its father. It couldn't be.

Turning my face up I was met with a leaf-like hairstyle, the vibrant blonde glowed in the sun. His face was soft as he bore two dual whiskers on either cheek and his right eye resembling a deep blue like my own. On the left laid a scar of a joughin. The eye pale and white. He smiled at me as he pulled me completely to my feet.

"Dad?"

The smile widened as his eyes squinted. It was blurred as his head blocked the rays of the sun.

"Yes, my son."

My eyes widened to the fact that it couldn't be true. It had been years since I had seen him so close like we are. It was different in ways that I could never comprehend however. For instance, my height was a huge change. I wasn't the same as when I was 9. The world was so different then. So simple.

"How is this possible?" I quivered before tearing up.

He smirked as he opened his arms. Diving into them I clenched his waist hard as I took in the moment. How was I here with him? Did I... did I die?

"If you think you are dead, I can say that you are not." He snickered while pulling me away from his grasp.

I didn't respond. My eyes stared in wonderment and disbelief at what stood before me. He must have noticed my disillusionment because his smile faded. All I could hear was his eyes talking to me. He must've felt the same as I was feeling. The reunion almost became too much to bear. I was looking face to face with my father. The man I hadn't seen in over 7 years. The man who died when I was a child. All my memories of days with him will be blurred and merged. I never understood what was real and what was my own imagination.

Suddenly what should have been happy memories of my childhood turned grim as I remember that day. Standing helpless on the fields of my home looking over the devastated Konoha. I remember smelling the smoke and ashe that filled the air. The fire that inflamed the homes of every person beneath me. Hearing the screams of families echoed through my head. Within minutes the screaming, ashe, and fire had faded. It became quiet as I waited on the lawn for a sign. A sign that the sun would yet again peer through the dark clouds that plagued the city. I remember becoming anxious and running down the cliffside. My little feet tripped over themselves as I fumbled through the rock. With each slide I teared up my legs and arms. After passing the Hokage faces, I met the central plaza of the city. Groups of shinobi crowded this part of town, each of their gazes avoiding the other. As I pushed through the crowd of them, I bumped into the back of one who wouldn't get out of my way.

"What's going on?" I wondered as I reached past the legs of the shinobi warrior.

The shinobi then turned around. There was a lingering pause as he knelt down to my level then putting his hand on my shoulder.

Uncle Kakashi.

I looked into his eyes as he stared into mine. His face was scarred and clothing torn. The battlefield did not treat him kindly. I remember the way his hair looked, all flattened and dirty. Different from the cleanliness and composure I always remembered him for. He could only look at me so long before turning away, his hand still grasping hard on my tiny shoulder. I remember the ignorance I had on that day. The clouds darkened above us as it suddenly began to run.

Suddenly, he was pushed aside before my grandfather emerged from the frontline of shinobi. I observed as his dark hair hung into his emotionless face. I then ran over to him, each stomp of my foot clapping against the watery ground. I didn't want to believe that every shinobi there was hiding stares and murmurs. I could tell they were all thinking of me. But why? Slowing my pace I grabbed his hand as he guided me through the front line of ninja. I could tell that he was standing by my side for a reason. His chakra flowed from him in sadness. Avoiding the view of what was in front of me I trusted him to safely direct me. I looked at the different shinobu that stood all around me. Some were crying. I even saw Uncle Shikadai hide his face from me as he wrapped his arms around Yodo who cried into his arms. The shinobi up at the middle of the plaza seemed to display more emotion. I watched as Yodo peered out of Uncle Shikadai's arm to see me. The sight of me seemed to scare her before she darted her eyes away.

As we pushed through the last group of people I was face to face with the horror of everyone's sadness. I saw my mother with her head tucked in the body of man. As she sat on the ground she winced in pain at the tears that streamed down her face. She shook in uncontrollable sadness as everyone watched. Her long black hair soaked against her skin as she cradled a body in her arms. She shivered at the touch of the rain as she cried out. As I observed the man in her arms I was met with the body of my dead father. His hand holding onto my mother's as his eyes closed.

At his feet stood the Hokage, my grandfather and aunt. His traditional robes were teared and stained with blood. I watched as she hugged my grandfather as she weeped in his arms. I remember it like it was yesterday. Unable to look at the state that my father was in.

I don't even remember if I showed emotion. Did I even care? I wanted to cry but nothing came out. I was in shock. The last thing I remember of that day was the reality that I was now fatherless.

"We have a lot of catching up to do," my father said as the memory morphed back to a sunny day on the grass, "Will you walk with me?"

I nodded before following behind him as he directed me down a path way. I smiled at the sight of talking to him older and as a man.

He turned around to meet my gaze and returned it with a heart-warming smile.