Before eating, Fū picked up her brush with her mouth, and marked a tally mark on the wall. With every passing day, she'd add one tally mark, so she could keep track of the days. Next, she started writing a letter to no one, and just like her caretaker had taught her, she adressed it to anyone, but instead of burning it, she rolled her scroll up, with every intention of throwing it to the wind. She wrote as such:
For anyone who reads this,
I am alone. My own village has betrayed me. All my life I have been rejected, and called names such as 'monster,' and 'demon.' I should be glad, my home will prosper without me, instead of feeling sorry for myself. But I feel so helpless. I don't know what to do. I don't have anyone else to talk to.
Sincerely, someone in need of a friend
<><><>
Primarily GaaFū story, but a lovetriangle between Fū, Gaara, and Sasuke. [Updates 1-2 times a month, extra chapter every 500 reads]
Cover credit to arkhaarryn. Check out her profile, she has great stories <3
WARNINGS⚠: SELF HATRED, DESPRESSION, LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, ABUSE
#31 in gaaralovestory [6/9/2023]
#34 in Jinchuriki [7/15/2023]
#28 in gaaralovetstory [7/20/2023]
#10 in Fū [7/25/2023]
#32 in gaaralovestory [7/25/2023]
#30 in gaaraofthedesert [7/25/2023]
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.)