Hi! I'm just getting started in writing, and I'm posting some of my experiments and other short stories here. Offline, I'm working on building my "rejection slip collection" with other stories.

Please enjoy the short stories and writing experiments I've posted here. I always enjoy constructive criticism.

I'm very interested in improving my abilities as an author, and I like to experiment with different genres and story ideas when I write. A lot of what I'll be posting here will be somewhat unfinished, I figure I'd rather post and learn what I can than have something never get written because I fret too much about how it will turn out.

Thanks for coming!

10 December 2009

A Story Based on the Naruto TV Show

She sat quietly next to a grave. Staring. But at nothing in particular. Long red hair, toseled and messy. Bright green eyes, red and bloodshot. Slouched posture, bowed shoulders. But, inspite of all this, she had an air of confidence about her, like her life was suddenly congealing into some definite meaning. Like all those nights of staying up late reading, studying, like all those days of heartache and pain, like all those times she was shunned, would have a purpose now. A purpose she had been waiting for for years. A purpose she knew to be hers at the academy, when she heard the name "Haku."
The girl straightened and stood up, her pose stong and defiant now. She pulled a kunai out of her pouch, then, with the slightest hint of hesitation, drew it across her up-turned palm. She pulled the knife back and let the blood drip on to the ground infront of her. Let the blood drip onto the dirt where two rogue ninja were buried, where the only mark of it being a grave site was the large sword planted into the ground. The one site she had been searching for, preparing herself for. The blood dripped. The girl brought her hands in towards her chest, then began making rapid handsigns. Tiger, dog, ox. She did them all resolutely. Then, she dropped to the ground, slamming her hands into the dirt of the grave.
A blue light began to emanate from the girl's form. Began to engulf her, then plunged through her arms into the ground beneath her hands. A single bead of sweat ran down the girl's face. From her hairline, to her cheek bone, to her lips, to her chin, then to the dirt. Another followed in the same pattern. Then another, plotting it's own path, landed to the side of the other drops. Slowly, the blue light dimmed from the girl's arms until it dissipated entirely, leaving the trembling arms as the girl struggled to hold herself up.
She sat back, her arms limp at her sides, her head lolling towards her shoulders. Suddenly, she brought her arms up. The dirt flew away to reveal the form of a young and beautiful boy. The glowing, blue form. The girl dropped her arms and fell forward into the grave where the boy lay. His eyes flew open, the blue disappearing with his closed eyes. He caught her.
"Niju!" The harsh voice of the teacher called. A small girl jerked her head up, her short, red hair bouncing comically as she did so.
"Hai!" She called. Niju turned around to face her parents.
"Do well, Niju!" her father said. "Make us proud!"
"We love you. Write often," her mother whispered. Both parents drew her into a tight hug, then quickly let go. Niju beamed, bent over to grab her duffel bag, then huried towards the teacher. The teacher let a soft smile drift onto his face.
"You'll miss them, won't you, Niju?" he asked the little girl. She nodded.
"Bye, mommy! Bye, daddy!" she called, waving frantically. Her parents waved back, then turned around and walked away.
"Sensei?" The little girl looked up towards the teacher.
"What's your name?"
"Iruka. You can call me Iruka-sensei, if you'd like."
"Iruka-sensei." She said it distinctly, without the slightest hint of a lisp. Iruka was going to like this girl.
Niju spent most of her time living in the library. Between classes, between meals, sometimes even during meals if she thought no one would hector her. It was lunchtime currently, so Niju was in the library, elbow deep in books.
"'Theory of Handsigns'?" Niju looked up into the face of her teacher.
"Hai, Iruka-sensei. I've read most of the books on chakura, now," Niju replied. Iruka raised his eyebrows. Niju's eyebrows compressed her forehead into a frown. "Would you believe, that's the same look the librarian gave me?" Iruka lowered his eyebrows, then grinned. He reached down and ruffled Niju's hair.
"You should eat lunch," he said.
A vein pulsed in Iruka's forehead. He stared down a student who was, quite unfortunately, ignoring him. The young student was doodling on a piece of paper while whispering a conversation with another nearby student.
"Yamashi-kun!" Iruka barked. The boy jerked up.
"Hai, sensei?" Yamashi, the student, looked as innocent as he could as Iruka stared him down. Yamashi shrunk back. Shoulders rolled in, head bent forward slightly.
"Would you care to tell the class what I was just talking about?" Yamashi's shoulders rolled forward even more. "Perhaps you could answer a question? How many chakura points does the human body have?" The class giggled as Yamashi muttered quietly to himself. Iruka angled himself so that he was facing the whole of the class. "Anybody?" The people in the first row abruptly stopped talking. The rows behind quickly followed suit. The class fell silent. One lone hand rose tenatively.
"It depends on whether the person is fully grown or not, sensei." Heads slowly turned around to face the small girl with her hand raised. Niju drooped her head as she watched heads turn towards her. She quickly popped her chin up, again, then lowered her hand, rest it next to her pencil and heavily written on paper. Everyone quickly turned back to the front of the class.
"A good point, Niju. Thank you. If the rest of you had been paying attention..." Iruka fell into his standard lecturing mode. One hand held behind his back, leaned back at a slight angle as his mouth took over the whole of his consciousness. Niju picked up her pencil, once again.

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