Disclaimer: Disclaimed

LIFE IS LIKE A MOVIE

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The signs had been there for a while, ya see, but who the hell pays attention to signs? It's like your buddy suddenly leaves on a trip and tells you that you'll hang out when he gets back. In real life, you'd think nothing of it. But if it was in a movie, well, you'd be damn freaking out, wouldn't you?

Real life situations didn't have signs, I thought. That's like saying your life was a TV show— ridiculous. And I'm a pretty sane guy. I think I'd know if I lived in Konohagakure Mental Institution. So you can't really blame me for ignoring the signs, even though I was a shinobi and should be better prepared for these things.

You know, those same people in the horror movies, with the serial killers in the masks and stuff, those same people usually died. Watch any movie; it always happens. The oblivious main character ignores the strange noises in the dark, blowing it off. Must've been the wind, he thinks. Loud footsteps in the hallway with no one there. Must've been his imagination. The window bangs open, he turns to look— but there's nothing there.

The people watching the movie, now, they get it. They know what's up; they know how it would go down. If I watched a movie of my own life, I think I would be screaming at myself right now. You idiot! I'd say. But since I was living this movie, and not watching it, I think I'm scheduled an early death. The camera'll cut off-scene, and when it returns, the ghost will strangle me in the shower. Or maybe slip a pillow over my mouth while I'm sleeping. But those were mundane deaths, civilian deaths.

As a ninja, it would be so much worse.

I didn't like to stay in my apartment very long. For one thing, it was a complete mess. I kept on forgetting to take the garbage out, so it just kept on piling up. The only place with a semblance of order was the tiny kitchen, and that was out of necessity. I learned the hard way that a clean kitchen means reasonably healthy food. If I didn't watch it, I'll accidentally eat something rotten again, a very nasty experience, if ya know what I mean. Not something I care to repeat.

The other reason I tended to stay out of my apartment was because it was completely empty. No one lived there, just me all by my lonesome. If I stayed still too long I swear I can hear the silence, and it eats me up, it does. So I always do things. It's good to stay in motion, I learned, 'cause it's only when you stop that you realize you're hurt. Bothering Tsunade-baachan in the Hokage tower, sometimes, but not too much. You don't bug the Hokage too much. I memorized Sakura-chan's working hours so I could shadow her as soon as she gets out from the hospital. Sometimes I bother her enough to come eat ramen with me, and even though she says it isn't a date, it so is.

One time when Sasuke got back from this super-secret reconnaissance mission that nobody was supposed to know about (nobody excluding me, of course) I had this huge get-together planned with everyone I know, Kakashi-sensei, Sakura-chan, Sai, Bushy-Brows, Hinata, Kiba, Shikamaru, Choji, Ino, Yamato, Tsunade-baachan, Kurama, Tenten, Bushy-Brows-sensei, Konohamaru and uh, Shino. Can't forget him. But the only people who showed up were Sakura, Hinata, Sai and Kurama, and I think Kurama only came because he literally had no choice, being inside me an' all. Don't tell him I said that, though. But, I mean, Sasuke didn't even show up to his own party! That's just par for the course with a bastard like him. Kakashi showed up right when we left. By now I'm just used to his lateness. He doesn't even bother with excuses anymore!

Urgh, that annoyed me.

When Sasuke's away on a mission doing stupid-Sasuke-things with those weirdos he's friends with (did I just insult myself?) and Sakura is doing Sakura-like things and saving lives, and everyone else is busy doing important shinobi things, I figure I should also do important shinobi things. So it's during these moments that I bother Tsunade-baachan for a mission.

"Naruto, stop pestering me." Tsunade grabbed her head in aggravation, scattering paperwork across the room. Shizune started to pick it all up with a resigned look on her face. I sent her my silent support. "I've told you time and time again, If there's a mission that's suited for you, I'll call for you. But I can't send the savior of the Fourth Shinobi War on just any D-Rank mission, you hear me? I can't send you on covert missions either, you're way too recognizable. Every civilian in the Elemental Nations knows your face, for Rikudo's sake!"

I must have looked pretty damn depressed, because I certainly felt like it.

"Oh, stop pouting. The best you can do is stay in the village and protect the people. Now get out! I have work to do!" She flung her hand in a clear dismissal, and I turned toward the window (because doors were just suggestions, after all) and trudged out, shoulders slumped.

It wasn't like there were a great many dangerous things going on in the Elemental Nations, not after the Fourth Shinobi War. Mostly just small-time things— the neverending bandits, thieves, murderers, deserters that always plagued humanity. Thinking that way depressed me even more, and I stopped jumping across roofs. Sometimes I thought I should be out there, travelling the world. Even if it was only one group of bandits, one thief, one almost-murderer that I saved, at least it would be something. And enough of those somethings would make a difference, if I encouraged other people to do it too.

Happy once more, I continued jumping across the roofs, only I realized that I had nowhere to go. So I ended up at my apartment, figuring I'd study some of those sealing scrolls I'd been meaning to look at. Sealing was hard to understand, very hard, but Dad could do it, so I could too.

I whipped out the key and turned the lock (click) when I had the sudden premonition that someone else was in my apartment. I left the key in the lock and did not move to open the door. I know it sounds weird, but these are not the sort of things you ignore. Feelings like that aren't the same as the signs I was telling you about before. When you're a shinobi, a premonition could be the difference between life and death. Funny thing was, I didn't sense any chakra. Not that I'm any good at that kind of stuff, anyway. Things were different with Kurama and Sage Mode, but you didn't walk around town carrying weapons of mass destruction, do you? Besides, those things take up a lot of energy!

I slipped a kunai into my hand from the holster on my leg and swung the door open as fast as I could. A flash of movement came from the kitchen and the kunai was already flying in that direction, a second kunai replacing the first in my hand. The knife embedded into the wall with a muted thump, hitting nothing. I brought the second kunai up in a defensive position, and casually inched forward. There was no one in the kitchen or the bedroom or the living room. I checked. The feeling that someone was there did not go away and I began to worry. Genjutsu? Was someone hiding?

Crash! The sound of breaking plates came from the kitchen again and I snapped around. I was really jumpy. I felt like a writhing ball of nervousness, like a Rasengan, but made out of nerves instead of chakra. A bowl was lying broken on the linoleum floor, smashed to pieces. Again I searched the room, and found nothing. Paranoia began to get the better of me, and I knew, without a doubt, that an enemy ninja would attack me from behind any second. Any second!

Pat pat pat. Very quiet footsteps from the hallway. I just didn't give a shit anymore and I flung myself at the hallway, diving parallel to the floor in a move that should've tackled anyone who was there. And I hit something! Whatever it was, I attempted to wrap my hands around it to complete the tackle when the strangest thing happened. One second I felt what could have been a person, and the next I continued on my way, unhindered. I slid to a halt on my stomach, my mind in complete shock. If someone had escaped the hold, I would have felt it. But that didn't happen, ya see. It was almost like—like I went through the person!

I was shaking from head to toe, my eyes wide as saucers. I put my hands over my head. It couldn't be! No, I didn't want to think it. If I thought it, then it'll be true and if it was true then— no, I couldn't think it.

Pat pat pat. Creak. The footsteps again, coming right up to where I was lying. They stopped right by my ear on a creaky floorboard.

Don't look up don't look up don't look up…

For a moment, nothing happened. The shaking I felt had gotten worse, making me nearly vibrate with the tension.

Suddenly, "Man, is your entire kitchen filled with ramen? Seriously? At least get some curry or some other crap." Slurp. "Sorry 'bout the bowl." Slurp.

I froze. I admit it, I froze solid, just like those characters in the movies. A male voice was speaking, young, sort of rough but not condescending. Even though he said he was sorry, he didn't sound sorry. He sounded like he really didn't care. I looked up like I was seeing my last sights. This is it, I thought. I'm dead.

I rolled over onto my back and saw a young man my age in a black kimono. He was casually eating a cup of instant ramen. Let me rephrase: my instant ramen. When I looked up he was in the middle of slurping some noodles, half of it hung out of his mouth. His hair was the vibrant orange I saw only once before on Pein, not the best of memories.

Oh yeah, before I forget, he was transparent.

"G-g-g-gh—" I raised my shaking hand and pointed it at the person. I was so scared I could barely talk straight. Hell, I couldn't even think straight. "G-g-gh—"

"Ghost, right. Yeah, I'm a ghost. What was your first clue?"

I passed out. I'm not ashamed to say it.

I might've been the greatest shinobi since the Rikudo Sennin, I might've been the savior of the Fourth Shinobi War, but pit me against a ghost and I turn into a puddle.

Ya see, if life was like a movie— I'd make a terrible main character.

You better believe it.

(o)(0)(o)