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Without A Name by Yui1

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Story notes: . . .
Canon fanfic, takes place some time after Inheritors of the Will of Fire. I've marked the parts that were directly based on Kishimoto's work.
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"In Root, you have no name. You have no feelings. You have no past. You have no future. All that exists is the mission. The unseen ones who support the great tree of Konoha from the depths of the earth."

Naruto Ch.285 P.11-12 © Kishimoto Masashi

~1~


He opened his eyes. A bare ceiling greeted him. He turned his face toward the left and gauged the wall to be less than a meter and a half away from the low bed he was lying on. Moonlight shone through the narrow rectangular window with thick iron grills that sat horizontally high on the wall above his head. It provided a faint source of light to this otherwise unlit room.

He figured the room was 5 meters long with the door located at the farthest end. The door's edges were encased in black iron. Was he in a prison cell? He slowly lifted himself up and sat as he surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings. He did not feel any fear; it was either he was trained well enough in case of capture or his head was hurting too much at the moment to consider danger. He was never one to react too emotively in either case. In fact, he does not tend to show emotion at all under any condition.

There was a dark brown wooden desk on the opposite side near the foot of the bed where a narrow flexible lamp stood. Ninja scrolls were neatly stacked on top along with a bottle of ink and a couple of brushes. If he was indeed being held prisoner, why was he provided his trademark ninjutsu equipment? He decided to sit still for a little while longer and waited for the throbbing in his head to subside. How did he end up here?

Click. Clack. The door opened and a masked Anbu entered-a Konoha Anbu, or at least, he had the features that looked like an Anbu from his own village, specifically from his own unit Root. "Is this a trick?" he wondered. The man standing before him could be a clone.

"Do you know who you are?" the Anbu asked, not threateningly.

"Yes."

"What is your name?"

"I have no name."

This was true, as far as he believed. He was assigned temporary names on certain missions but he never had a permanent given name as far as he remembered. He was just a regular Anbu shinobi under the *Root Foundation, working in the shadows to protect Konoha by the authority and guidance of the great Danzo-sama.^ Unlike regular Anbu with real names, Root's black operatives had none.

"Your last mission failed," the Anbu explained. "You were found unconscious somewhere in the outskirts of Konohagakuren some time last week."

"I see," he murmured still suspicious of this masked shinobi by the desk. A failed mission, he hardly had any of those. But if he's sitting here with no idea where he was nor any memory of what happened, then there was no doubt he failed. Why he was still alive was a mystery.

"How are you feeling?" the Anbu asked. He was a little surprised by the question. An Anbu, and certainly a Root Anbu is never asked how he feels. He grew more suspicious.

"Fine," he answered.

"Good, Danzo-sama will summon you once he arrives. Get more rest until then." With this, the shinobi turned toward the door and closed it behind him. A click and a clack.

Danzo-sama? Then he really wasn't a prisoner, though he had a feeling the door was locked after the masked shinobi just now. Meeting the great master didn't give him any relief at all, however. It would surely involve getting an earful for failing in his task. After which, he would get passed on to a committee for a debriefing session about the same failed mission, which, at that moment, he still had no memory of.

His gaze went down toward his wrists resting on his legs and he felt a cold sweat run through his forehead. Fear overcame him like he had never felt before; a memory of something and yet, of nothing.

Continued
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