A Summer Breeze

Here's a heads up... I'm probably going to update once a blue moon. I'm looking for a partner and I might transfer this book to my village. I know you might not even be reading this and you just want to scroll down and start reading the story. Also, I swear to Jashin-Sama that if one of my readers is an annoying brat who constantly tells me to "Plz update" I will give this book up to Truck-Sama to run over. Alright, one last thing, this is a CROSSOVER between Naruto and Young Justice! Thank you to whoever bothered to read this bolded author note that no other reader cares about. Love, your Dictator ♥♥♥♕♕♕

P.S. You're allowed to name the dots!

...

The soft smell of summer was a beautiful thing. It gave hope to the certain Abyss of Hatred that dwelled deep inside of everyone. The self-proclaimed saints, the ones who believe true peace can be achieved by no conflict, are complete and utter fools.

After all, those "saints" send children with no combat experience out into a war with a kunai and tell them that they're helping their village.

This endless cycle, the one I call the Abyss of Hatred, is in everyone. I'm no saint, not even close to it, but I'm not a demon either. I'm just a human who philosophizes stupid things far to much just so that I can feel important.

My name is Saikio Uzumaki, and no, I'm not Uzumaki Naruto's twin sister. I'm not related to that loud mouth. I know him, everyone knows him, but I'm not related to him, we just share the same clan name.

I'm an orphan, of course, seeing as how every protagonist needs to be one. My parents were caught in the crossfire of the war, and no, they weren't abusive fucktards who would beat me for no good reason. They were loving, passionate, and more importantly, they were happy.

Surprisingly, I'm not hung up over their death to the point that I have nightmares and mental damage. I miss them, but not enough to be suicidal. In the end, everyone has one thing in common. We are all going to die.

Don't fear Death, he's discriminated as an evil being who can't wait to end your life. In fact, that belief is far from the truth, Death is far more of a kindred spirit than we can ever be. He himself, who is thought of to be cloaked in black, actually wears black skinny ripped jeans with a hot pink shirt, that says, "Bite me", it's just that humanity wants to believe that evil is black and good is white. That's just racist.

What if pink was the evil one and black was the good one? However, we don't think that.

Pardon me, I was rambling yet again on another foolish topic. It seems that I've been doing that a lot these days.

Prepare yourself, my friend, for my journey to explore life and its shades will be long and it may not have the amount of suffering you sick psychopaths need to read in order to enjoy yourselves, but hey, who really gives a fuck? I've been spending far too much time with Hidan.

...

Let's begin with the start of my first shade of life.

The day I found out what was meant to my family and me.

It was quite humorous, well to me at least, that the day began with the beautiful scent of a summer breeze.

I'm glad that it wasn't raining or another part of a cliche life-changing event.

I had just turned eight on the day before my parent's deaths. My mother and I were as happy as one could be during that lovely morning.

We came across a battle between two groups of ninja. I can't remember where they're from, but I do know they were afraid.

They used their arsenal of jutsus against each other in fear and they want to survive.

The sad fact? They looked to be my age at the time, eight. Both when they saw my mother threw a jutsu at her. My father, who appeared out of nowhere jumped in front of his beloved. After all, they were only weak merchants, they didn't know how to defend themselves. Wasn't that what ninjas were for?

Those jutsus were fire jutsus. I don't remember what they're called, only the flames.

Both of my parents were burned alive. I couldn't do anything about it either. I was as useless as the "g" in lasagna.

It seemed that those boys never took their first kill before. Now they took two.

They glanced at me and ran to the crippling safety of their corrupt villages.

Every now and then I wonder if they still remember how they murdered two innocent civilians and left a child orphaned. I doubt it.

...

Ah, the age of ten was a milestone for me. It was then that I committed my first kill.

My victim happened to be a middle-aged man who was a pedophile and rapist. He was bald, fat, and had these horrible tiny rat eyes. His teeth were surprisingly clean so that meant that he wasn't a complete scum bag. Then again, he's human so we're all scumbags.

I sometimes think that he had a family, some kids asking their mother if daddy was ever coming back home to them. I don't think she ever answered back to him, maybe she thought he found someone else and left them to rot.

I had to remind myself that I found him cornering a little girl trying to rip her clothes off so that he can have his fun with her.

I don't know what possessed me, why I didn't knock him out instead of the brutal way I killed him.

To put it clear, I bashed the man's skull into the wall multiple times until it was beyond fractured and to the point that a bit of his brain that turned to mush was dripping on the ground.

I believe I damaged the girl's mentality beyond that of what rape could do.

Still, to this day, I always asked myself, "Was it worth it?"

...

It's true what they say, puberty was a bitch. I was twelve when I hit my third shade.

My chest hurt and I discovered what periods were. Never again I tell you, never again. Then, I find out that it happens every month!

Should I count this as a blood sacrifice to Jashin-Sama? Or should I call this karma?

During these dark ages, I found my very first friend: Death.

Death was a gay angsty teen who didn't want his job. He was also afraid of cats. In my culture, I guess you can call him a shinigami. Death didn't want to be an immortal creature that would forever be thought of as evil. He also had a fabulous ass that could rival Kakashi-san's.

The day I met Death was rather... Coincidental. We both met each other in the back of a bookshop that housed beautiful yaoi. I don't regret a fucking thing, my hormones activated this strange feeling to ship males together and read the very detailed manga of intimate acts between them.

I called this disease Fujoshi. I met a few other women who had this incurable disease.

Death and I just happened to bump into each other and saw that we read the same smut. We hit it off immediately, especially after knowing that we shared the same ships.

Perhaps, this disease wasn't all that bad. Of course, it had to get worse when I met my OTP.

Levi and Eren looked so well together, despite Levi being twice Eren's age. That doesn't matter though.

Hey guys! Sorry for the short chapter! Guess what! It's 2:00 AM and I'm still up! I would love some helpful feedback and any volunteer who would like to edit this book for me! I'll update again next year! See you then!