The Place We Return to

The Place We Return to

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Oct 10, 2022
TW: MENTIONS OF ABUSE, VERBAL AND PHYSICAL, BLOOD, LANGUAGE, E@TING DISORDERS if these things bother you then I don't suggest this story for you my lovelies <33 no explicit scenes!!! I DON'T OWN NARUTO, ONLY THE PLOT OF THIS STORY. THE PICTURES ARE FROM PINTEREST CREDITS TO THE OWNERS. If you own any of the fan art or photos used pretty please DM me if you want me to credit you and I'll gladly do. Now on with the description... A 3-year-old blond ran away from a mob of villagers. He ran and ran until they cornered him in an alleyway. Nowhere to go with himself he let it happen, he never understood why... A scream sounded as the mother of the pink-haired little girl took the kunai for her child. Her father was drunk and he often abused her and her mother. Sakura yelled for her mother to hold on yet she lay bleeding in her child's lap. The crying little girl looked at the broken down door to find the ANBU who heard the scream, the grey-haired man with a dog mask picked her up and comforted her before sending her off away from the scene. A little raven ran through the halls of his family home yelling for his mother and father only to find them dead with his brother cruelly standing next to them. He screamed and screamed asking his Nee-san why he did that to Kaa-chan and Tou-san. His brother left and Sasuke was left with his dead parents. The stench of blood made his insides turn... What do they do after they meet each other by accident in the midst of their little lives and long term promises to be family? Read and you'll find out... UPDATES TEMPORARILY PAUSED!!!
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#115
uzumaki
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The bandages that covered his face in life have fallen away, all incinerated and hanging loosely around his neck. His face is completely destroyed. Unrecognizable. The skin covering his face is no longer there, all having melted away. His blood vessels have all burst, his nerves have fried along with the majority of his muscles. His jaw opens and closes a little bit. His eyes bore into me. They're large and round and completely accusing. His teeth are covered in bits of burnt muscle. I feel my heart thudding in my chest. He steps closer, closer. His bone gleams in the dim light. As he closes in on me, a pounding noise begins ringing through my ears. My heart beat- ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. It looked like he had been tossed into a fryer, fried alive, and he had been. By me. I did this to someone. I killed someone's team mate, someone's son. I killed someone's important person. -- Kimiko Kioku, a memory keeper. Never forgets anything, always notices, from the exact way the wind blew her hair against her face to coloring with her brother at five to the lullaby her mother would sing to her as she rocked her when she was not even a year old. She remembers. She remembers the blood, the glassy, clouded over eyes her brother had as he said his last words. She remembers the very first person she killed. She remembers how abandoned she feels, and how everything always feels like it's falling apart at the seams. (Can you say 'worst summary ever to exist'? Okay, maybe not that bad. But still pretty bad.)

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