Characters: Kakashi (mentions Sakura and Naruto)
Word Count: didn't look.
Summary: In war, he is nothing but a tool. But is that really all he is? All he can ever be?
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto, not me =(
A/N: My first Naruto fanfic... hope it's good enough.
I am a tool. I am a weapon my village uses to cut down her foes in wars, I know this and yet I am one of the best tools my village wields, despite my anger at my home; I have lost everything dear to me, all the people I had once loved are now gone, leaving me alone. So now I am a tool, no reason to be human, to be a man, so I cage my emotions like a weapon should. I feel nothing as my kunai slices my enemies throat wide open, I feel nothing as his blood stains my hands, flak vest and mask. I am the tool my village needs me to be. Deep inside me I can only hope the other members of my team are still fighting, are still being the tools they have to be.
After snapping the neck of my latest victim, my eyes dart to one of my team mates, my own mismatched eyes meet her frightened green ones before the exploding tags tear her to shreds. A curse escapes my lips and I have to reinforce the cage my emotions are locked into, she was the medic, she was a much needed tool, but a tool none the less, and all tools are destroyed at some point. My spinning black and red eye darts to find my blond haired team mate and immediately I know he is about to fall, he has not yet seen the kunai sailing towards him from behind. That tool... that man is needed in my village. I need to keep him alive, even if it means I will die. So I force the rest of my chakra to my feet for speed and get in the way of the weapon, there is no way to stop it, to grab it. So I let it sink into my body, puncturing a lung I know i'll need if I want to survive this battle.
I don't feel the blade as I fall to my knees. Tools don't feel pain, they only do. I do not take the weapon from my chest, I know it would be an instant death sentence, I would bleed out and drown in my own blood before I could say 'Yondaime'. Viewing my situation, I know I am no longer a good tool, not while on my knees, vulnerable to attack. All I am now is a target with a bullseye painted on me. It takes a minute, but I can hear it... the skin cutting wind jutsu that's heading straight for me. I can't dodge it in time so I close my eyes and let it smash into me, slicing my skin and moving the kunai in my lung to tear up and knick my heart. This I feel. But I know I should not feel, tools don't feel. Yet as my heart falters and stops I realise I never had to be an emotionless tool... I was loved by the greatest tool besides me. If Naruto Uzumaki could love and be a great shinobi... why couldn't I?
Obito... Rin... Minato-Sensei... Father... I'm sorry for failing... for not being a better shinobi... a better man. Just before I slip into oblivion, I allow one small smile to grace my lips beneath my blood caked mask. The first smile I have allowed in so many years.