Naruto: The Fate of Beasts

The village was silent.

Kaito stood amidst the ruins, his small frame trembling as the winter wind bit at his skin. The frost-covered ground was stained crimson, the once-pristine snow now marred by the aftermath of destruction. The houses, their chimneys now cold and lifeless, lay in shattered heaps. The forest, once a sanctuary, loomed like a specter, its trees whispering secrets Kaito could no longer bear to hear.

"Hello?" he called out, his voice cracking. "Is anyone there?"

The wind answered with a hollow howl. Kaito's glowing white eyes darted from one broken home to another, searching for movement, for life. But there was none. Only the stillness of death.

He stumbled through the wreckage, his small hands digging through debris, his voice growing hoarse as he cried out for survivors. Each step felt heavier than the last, each breath sharper. He found bodies—friends, neighbors, elders—their lifeless eyes staring into the void. He shook them, begged them to wake up, but they remained silent.

"Please…" he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Don't leave me alone."

But no one answered. The village, once alive with laughter and warmth, was now a graveyard. And Kaito was its sole mourner.

Kaito remembered the traditional burials he had witnessed as a child. The pyres, the prayers, the final farewells. He didn't know if he could do it, but he had to try. He couldn't leave them like this.

With trembling hands, he began gathering wood scraps from the destroyed houses. His small body struggled under the weight, and he collapsed multiple times, his knees scraping against the frozen ground. But he kept going. He gathered iron and steel to line the pyre, his fingers numb from the cold.

Then came the hardest part.

One by one, he dragged the bodies of his clansmen to the pyre. Each corpse felt heavier than the last, each step a battle against his own exhaustion. He fell to the ground more times than he could count, his tears freezing on his cheeks. But he didn't stop. He couldn't.

The last two were his parents.

His father, Haruto, lay still, his face peaceful despite the wounds that had taken his life. His mother, Ayame, was curled protectively, as if shielding someone who was no longer there. Kaito's breath hitched as he carried them, his small arms straining under their weight. He collapsed twice, his body screaming in protest, but he refused to let go.

When he finally laid them on the pyre, his eyes were dry. He had no tears left to cry.

From his father, Kaito took the black bandana he always wore, its fabric stained with blood but still intact. From his mother, he took the small silver pendant necklace, shaped like a wolf chasing the moon. He clutched both tightly, as if they could anchor him to the world.

Kaito lit the pyre with trembling hands, the flames roaring to life and casting flickering shadows across the ruins. He stood there, watching as the fire consumed the remains of his clan, his family, his home. The heat warmed his face, but it couldn't thaw the ice in his heart.

For a moment, he wondered if he should step into the flames himself. To end it. To not be alone.

But then, a surge of fury overtook him. He screamed, a raw, guttural sound that echoed through the forest. He struck his face, his small fists pounding against his cheeks, his eyes, as if he could tear out the source of his pain. He hated himself. He hated his eyes. He hated the power that had destroyed everything he loved.

"Why?!" he screamed, his voice breaking. "Why me!?! WHY?! I HATE YOU I HATE YOU, WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DIE?!?!"

He fell to his knees, his lungs heaving, his heart racing. The fire crackled behind him, its warmth a cruel reminder of the life he had lost.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm so sorry…"

With trembling hands, Kaito tied his father's black bandana around his eyes. The fabric was rough against his skin, but it was a comfort, a connection to the man who had once been his strength. He couldn't bear to see the world anymore. Not like this.

As the fire burned and the wind howled, Kaito knelt in the snow, his small frame trembling with exhaustion and grief. He didn't know what tomorrow would bring. He didn't know if he could go on.

But for now, he was alive. And that would have to be enough.

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