Naruto: Raimu

Raimu stands alone in the middle of a battlefield. His small frame, barely six years old, seems almost out of place in the vast destruction around him.

The rain falls heavily, but it's not normal—no, it's blood. Thick, dark, and heavy, the droplets stain the ground beneath his feet, mixing with the dirt in a grotesque blend of crimson.

The air smells of death. A suffocating, metallic stench that clings to everything, wrapping around his lungs, making each breath harder to take. Bodies are scattered across the field, twisted in unnatural positions, their faces frozen in expressions of terror, agony.

The ground is littered with the remains of those who fell, those whose names Raimu cannot recall.

His golden eyes—far too bright for someone so young—scan the devastation. His white hair, wet from the rain, sticks to his forehead, a stark contrast to the darkness surrounding him.

The chill in the air doesn't come from the downpour, though. It feels deeper, colder, as if something is waiting just beyond the edge of his perception.

His heart races, confusion settling in his chest. He doesn't understand. What is happening? How did he get here?

A monstrous roar tears through the air, sending a chill down his spine. His entire body tenses as heavy footsteps shake the ground beneath him. His small feet stay rooted to the spot, his eyes wide, searching.

Before he can turn around, a massive creature steps out from the mist of rain and blood. The creature is unlike anything Raimu has ever seen—a massive, four-legged beast, its body composed entirely of chakra.

The golden hue that radiates from it is faint but unmistakable, like a living embodiment of the energy that flows through Raimu's veins.

The creature lowers itself beside him, its massive head brushing gently against his small frame. Despite its imposing size, there's a warmth to it, an undeniable comfort that eases some of the fear clutching at Raimu's heart.

The beast wraps one of its enormous paws around him, pulling him into its protective embrace. Its warmth contrasts sharply with the cold, oppressive rain, grounding Raimu in a world that no longer makes sense.

Raimu doesn't move. His body is still, his wide golden eyes locked on the destruction around him.

He doesn't speak.

His small hands tremble, clenched at his sides. The blood on the ground—it's no longer just rain. It's his fault. It was him. He did this.

"How… did this happen?" he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.

it feels wrong, speaking in a place like this, but the question burns in his chest, desperate for an answer that doesn't come.

The beast's presence is strangely soothing, like a balm on his frayed nerves. For a moment, he allows himself to close his eyes, to find solace in the warmth of the creature.

But before he can truly relax, a hand lands on his shoulder, and a voice calls out from behind him.

Raimu looks up, tilting his head to meet the gaze of a tall, imposing figure.

His expression is unreadable, his eyes—unlike Raimu's—are cold, distant.

"Did you do this?" the man asks. His voice is unyielding, but not unkind. There's a pressure behind the words, like the weight of the world rests on Raimu's small shoulders.

Raimu doesn't answer. His throat tightens. He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't even know how to explain. The destruction, the blood—everything around him feels wrong, twisted. His thoughts are clouded. He can't think.

The man leans down, his hand gently lifting Raimu's chin so that they can meet eye to eye. Raimu doesn't pull away, too lost in the overwhelming weight of the moment. The world feels like it's pressing in from all sides.

Before he can say anything, a voice cuts through the haze of confusion.

"Raimu."

The soft call breaks through the chaos of his dream like a sudden crack of light in a pitch-black room. Raimu's eyes snap open.

He's back in the familiar classroom. His eyes blink rapidly as he realizes he's not standing in the middle of a blood-soaked battlefield anymore. No, he's in the Ninja Academy, and his head is on the desk. A couple of students are staring at him, a little confused, others trying to hide their laughter.

"Raimu!" The teacher's voice pierces through his groggy mind.

Raimu stirs, blinking as he sits up, rubbing his eyes. His blanket—somehow still wrapped around his shoulders—falls to the side as he sits up straight. The classroom is quiet now, save for the occasional snicker.

"Did you fall asleep in my class again?" Iruka-sensei asks, hands on his hips, frustrated. "It's only third year at the Academy. You can't keep sleeping through everything. You only have one year left"

Raimu blinks at him lazily, his golden eyes half-lidded in the typical sleepy fashion. "I was just… resting my eyes," he mutters, before looking around. His classmates are watching him, some with pity, others clearly trying to hold back laughter.

He glances over at Iruka, then stretches, pulling the blanket tighter around himself.

"Why do you have a blanket?!" Iruka yells, extremely unamused.

"It's comfy, Iruka-sensei," he says with a sleepy tilt of his head, making the class laugh.

One girl in the back giggles, her face flushing as she says, "Let him sleep. He's cute like this."

The other girls chime in, agreeing, though their comments are more playful than serious. Iruka's face flushes slightly, and he half-yells, "Stop encouraging him!"

The boys in the room murmur among themselves, casting envious glances in Raimu's direction. But Raimu, entirely unfazed, simply shrugs. His sleepy eyes drift toward the window, watching the outside world pass by in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. His gaze becomes distant, the classroom noise fading into the background.

Iruka calls his name once more, this time louder, firmer. "Raimu!"

The sound snaps Raimu back to reality.

Iruka sighs and shakes his head before going back to teaching, and slowly, the room falls back into its usual rhythm.

A couple of hours later, the bell rings, signaling the end of the school day. Raimu stands up, stretching with a quiet yawn, and heads out the door at his usual, leisurely pace. He walks through the village, making his way down the market street.

As he strolls, a familiar voice calls out to him.

"Raimu!" It's the voice of an older man, and Raimu turns his head to see the kindly shopkeeper from the food stall. The man's grinning, his face warm. "How was school today?"

Raimu nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. "It was fine."

The man chuckles, looking around. "Well, I've got some food here if you want it."

Raimu grins and nods eagerly. "I'd love some."

But before he can grab the food, a shout comes from across the market. A woman calls out from her stall, "I was supposed to give you something today, Raimu!"

Raimu tilts his head, blinking in confusion.

Before Raimu knows it, more stall owners begin gathering around, each offering him something different.

By the time he arrives home, Raimu's arms are full of food. He struggles with the door as he opens it, his usual lazy demeanor now a bit more comical with the heavy load he's carrying.

The house is quiet.

He sets the food down on the counter and walks through the house, checking each room. No one. His confusion grows until, finally, he reaches his room.

Inside, sitting casually on the windowsill with a book in hand, is a man Raimu recognizes instantly.

"Oh," Raimu says with a lazy smirk. "Missed me that much, huh?"

The man looks up, and when their eyes meet, Raimu sees the familiar face of his father. White spiky hair, sharp features, and a dark right eye, with a red left eye staring back at him.

"You're late today," Kakashi smiles.