CHAPTER 36(Memories of Hunger)

Read auxiliary chapter World Info before starting the story.

Please read the author's notes. (Examples and explanation of moves and changes etc)

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CHAPTER START---

Wrapped from head to toe in torn-up and bloodied robes. Layers upon layers of cloth standing between the harsh sun, cutting winds as they carry the sands to and fro, and slick skin. A young man, barely fifteen years old carries a small metal box in his hands. His exposed eye squinting as the rays of sunlight reflect on the sand, almost blinding.

As he walks through the desert, the blood of the last people he encountered still on his hands and splattered across his garments, he can't even recall when he stopped caring.

This is all he knows now. Within a few weeks, the world shook, until it fell apart. Wars broke out. Everyone knew it was coming, food was becoming scarce, water sources were drying up. The battles were justified.

What else was there to do, everyone was hungry. Borders were closed and tensions were high. Humanity became rabid dogs trying to protect their own. He clutches the metal box in his hands that much tighter. So many bodies, children not even half his age had died for him to get this, for him to protect his own.

So many battles in so little time. All before the missiles were launched, a final act of hate and spite. To spit in the face of those who won. His stomach growls in hunger once more, but he dares not to open the box in his hands. Eating his prize would be the easy...no, the sensible choice.

Trudging forward, he looks over his right shoulder, a massive torch can be seen protruding out of the sand, buildings on the horizon. People hiding all over. This is the last bastion away from the raging sandstorms moving toward the east coast from the west.

The battered torch, a massive statue, once a symbol of this city. Now it lays unbroken but buried up to the very peak in the sand. Lady liberty has long since died.

Stumbling across where the ocean once stood, he slowly makes his way toward the little buildings, the very peaks of skyscrapers that were so untouched a few years ago. The last foothold of shelter from the incoming storms.

Making his way to his hideout, he pulls his hood forward a bit more. The blood from his now empty left eye socket sticking his wraps to his face as the wind tries to peel it away.

Eventually making it to his hideout, he moves the metal door to the side before squeezing his way inside. The once-mighty Crysler building now a decrepit holdout for his small family.

Ascending the pile of boxes that he calls the stairs, making it to the highest room in the building. He greets his family once more.

"Hey mom, I'm back," he says in a small voice, barely above a whisper. His throat hoarse from the dry winds.

"Hm... just you?" The woman asks. Looking up at him as she holds the small girl in her arms, the child barely four years old, clearly starved.

"Yeah... just me, sorry," he says. Pain seeping through into his words, try as he might to keep a strong facade, his the last excursion was too much. He had given too much for far too little.

"D-did they, oh god," A tear falls from her eye. Her body barely any to survive much less have the energy to properly express herself.

"No, they didn't suffer," He says, taking two chains from around his neck, the final memento from his dad and younger sister.

As he kneels down on the pile of rags now called a bed and places them into her hands, he moves to open the box, only to be stopped by the woman's hand.

"C-can you take care of her, please..." she asks, the implication in her words clear as day. She knows there won't be enough. What parent would take food from their children's mouths after all.

"There's only enough for her anyway mom, the storms.... we barely have a day. I-I don't know what to do!" He yells to nobody in particular. All the years of being a soldier to survive, the years of branching out alone to bring back things for his family, the years of being a rock they could depend on alongside his dad, all for nothing. Finally breaking the dam built for his emotions.

"Jin, you know what you have to do..." The woman says, her hands barely able to move much less hold her son's face. Leaning forward she rests her forehead against his as he gathers his strength.

"I love you, both of you," he mutters.

"You did your best Jin, we know that. We love you too" She says.

As she finishes speaking, a sharp pain is felt, his knife stops her heart. As he places his arms around her, gently moving her and his unconscious sister side by side in the bed. He takes one last look at his mother, in her final moment she gives him a warm smile, before closing her eyes one last time.

Taking a moment to look at her once more, the decrepit almost skeletal body much like his and everyone else's, for the first time in years she finally looks truly happy.

Steeling his will once more, Jin moves to quickly grant his little sister the same mercy, her body bundle up so tightly, quickly inserting his knife into the nape of her neck, delivering the most painless blow he can.

As the blood flows, he falls back onto his ass and watches his work, tears flow freely from his eyes.

"RAHHHHHHH!" He cries out, his wails echoing in the empty room.

With frantic motions, he begins to tear off his robes, layer after layer revealing stains of blood, scars, deep wounds that never fully healed on his skeletal body. His empty eye socket no fully exposed. He breaths heavily as he grabs the metal box he sacrificed so much for.

As he opens the box, the last of his sanity falls away. One, half-rotten carrot looks back at him. His prize for the loss of his dad and sister. For the deaths of almost a dozen children. They expected more from one of the largest survival alliances, but everyone was on the last leg it seems.

"AHHHHHH!"

He yells out, his mind finally collapsing. With an angry swing, he throws the carrot and container across the room.

In a fit of madness, his last reason for holding on gone, he walks out wearing only his shoes and pants. Walking to the east, to face the storm. To go out on his own terms. To hope for a second chance.

"JIN!"

Kurenai yells as she shakes him out of his daydream.

"Uh, huh, sorry what?" He asks, clearly a bit confused.

"You've been staring at the desert for 10 minutes, we need to head back to the Kazakage tower now"

"Uh, sorry. It just reminds me of back home," He says while turning toward the tower.

"The desert reminds you of Konoha?"

"Uh... sure," He says before leaping through Sunagakure.

END CHAPTER---