To Rise Above @writer_of_many_subjects
Chapter 1

Greetings, it's another Oc Naruto story, but here's the twist! There will be no Madara or Kaguya (bar one of the OC's sharing the name), the main villains will be the Akatsuki (with their world peace plan), Danzo (with his root organization and attempted takeover of Konoha), and Orochimaru. Orochimaru will not live in this fic!

With that over, please enjoy!

1

Red

Red.

That's all that filled her vision. From the red liquid that covered the floor to the red hair that obstructed her field of view. She didn't know where all the red had come from, she didn't really know where she was. She didn't even know who she was. One thing she did know was that it was dark and everywhere was red.

"Ka-gu-ya."

Ah, was that who she was? She slowly looked around the room, her expression blank and violet eyes cold. She stopped on the moving form of a woman with red hair like hers. She waited for the woman to speak, but all she did was make guttural sounds before red spewed from her mouth and hit the floor.

More red.

She looked around the room once again and narrowed her eyes. There was no foreseeable way out. She took a slow step forward, her small legs trembling from lack of use and her small feet aching, and walked through the red. She reached forward with a small hand and couldn't help but think it was wrong. She stopped reaching out and slowly looked down at her hands.

Small, pale, fragile, and smooth. All wrong. She couldn't help but think they should be calloused, and long fingered. The only thing right about them was the color, pale. She slowly curled her fingers into a fist and back to check to see if it really was her hand. It was, but she didn't like the wrong feeling that she got.

"Kaguya."

Her name was whispered from dry, chapped lips with a hoarse voice that was grating on the ears. She didn't even want to attempt to wet them, there was no doubt red on them. She ran a hand down her face and thought about how to get out of the room she was stuck in. Her legs began to move once again and she searched the room, a hand against the wet walls.

Red.

She was starting to despise the color red. It covered everything and the metallic smell that followed it caused her empty stomach to churn. She despised her hair, it was matted and stunk of sweat. She narrowed her eyes and tried to figure out why the color was so obvious in the dark.

She paused at that thought and turned dull, violet eyes towards the ceiling. There. In the middle of the ceiling was an askew tile. She could get out through there. She just needed something that could work as a grappling hook. She looked towards the dead woman that was in the room with her and tilted her head. She had missed the pile in the back.

Well, they weren't going to need their clothes if they were dead.

She rifled through the broken and red bodies. The hair was a bright red, just like hers. There was a swirl symbol on some of the clothing and she looked down at the one sleeve she still had on her tunic. There was a similar symbol. Ah, they must've been family. She didn't feel anything looking at them, no recollection, no familial feelings. Nothing. She had to be a cold-hearted person not to feel anything.

How odd.

She felt fear, disgust, and hunger but no feelings of remorse or grief. Did that make her a horrible person? She thought about that question as she removed the clothing off the corpses and began to tie them together to form a rope. She searched for something that would anchor itself when she threw it. She searched the room and eventually found something that could work. A metal hook sticking out of the stomach of one of the men.

She grasped onto it and pulled it out.

More red spilled onto the ground in front of her and splashed onto the capris she was wearing. She ignored it and tied it to the rope. She held it loosely in her hand and began to twirl it with slight ease. She let it loose and it missed. She tugged it back and tried again. Her fourth try was when it finally connected, and she gave it a tug to make sure it was secure.

She pulled herself up with shaking arms. It was difficult to climb up her makeshift rope, her arms trembling the entire time. She reached up at the opening with a shaking arm and her palm hit it, the sweaty appendage slipped. She tried again and this time she got a grip before pulling herself into the ceiling.

It was dark up there as well, but she managed. She pulled the metal hook off from the makeshift rope and put it in the front of her tunic. She quietly crawled around the small air duct she found herself in and looked for a way out. Any glimpse of light would be her best bet. After an hour of crawling around, her body started to shake. She wasn't used to such work; it was easy to tell. She forced herself to keep moving, she felt that if she didn't she wouldn't make it to see the light again.

She wanted to get away from the dark room covered in red. She wanted away from that horrible smell that caused her stomach to uncomfortably churn.

She winced when something hit her eyes and caused them to burn. She was having trouble keeping them open, but she started to crawl towards the source, the smell of grass gave her hope. She blindly reached out with her hand and touched metal grating. She looked at it through squinted eyes and saw screws keeping it in place. She reached for the metal hook and tried to remove them.

Three of them came off with little difficulty, the fourth one gave her problems. It didn't want to be removed from the grating. She pushed a little harder with the hook and it slid across her palm. She grit her teeth at the pain and felt tears welling up in her eyes. She was glad to see that she could still do that, it meant that not all hope was lost for her.

She moved through the tears and grabbed onto the hook once again. She jammed it into the last screw with anger and she felt warmth go through her body. The screw flew out of the grate and she moved quickly to stop the large piece of metal from swinging into the wall. She slowly crawled out of the vent and tumbled into the dirt below.

She took a few seconds to catch her breath before forcing herself back onto her feet and closed the grate behind her. She fingered the metal hook for a few seconds and decided that the first chance she got; she was tossing it into a lake where her scent would be impossible to find on it.

She looked up and her eyes widened at the trees surrounding her. They were big, telling that they'd been there for a long time. She couldn't help her awe at them, they were beautiful. She felt something nagging her from the back of her mind and realized that she needed to move, and quickly.

She took off like a bullet from the grate she had exited out of. Her aching legs and feet didn't make her fast, but the adrenaline ran through her veins and let her push past her boundaries. She could feel her lungs burning as long grass tickled her legs and threatened to trip her. She had to climb over fallen logs in her path, but that didn't deter her.

She saw a pond and tossed the metal hook in it as she ran past. She didn't know how long she'd been running before her body said enough was enough. She fell to the ground, her knees scraping the dirt. She could hear the heavy breaths as they tore through her chest. She felt tears going down her face again, this time out of fear and desperation.

If she got caught she was going to die, every fiber of her being screamed that at her. Who ever had put her in that room would kill her for escaping. She felt a shiver go down her spine at that thought and she slowly began to crawl on the forest floor. She didn't want to die.

Her eyes widened as that thought echoed through her mind, over and over again. It made it easy for her to find the strength to crawl even faster. She was going to drop; she was certain of that. Eventually, she was going to run out of strength. She wanted as much distance between her and the grating that she could get before that happened.

Something dropped on her and her head was held down. Something sharp pricked the back of her neck and she froze. She thought she'd have more time to escape from that hole. Her heart hammered in her chest as tears welled up in her eyes again.

"It's a kid," A gruff voice stated, "She can't be too dangerous."

"We're at war, bear," A female voice said as feet appeared before her, "She's also covered in blood, she could be an enemy spy."

She started to shake at that and the pressure on her head was lessened. The person holding her could feel her entire body shaking. She struggled to form words. She did manage to get out one thing.

"Not safe? What the hell do you mean, not safe?" The woman questioned.

"Cat, look at the symbol on her shirt," The man said.

It was silent for a few minutes before a low hiss came from the woman.

"Shit."

"We need to get her back to the village," The man said, and she felt herself being picked up from the ground, "If she say's not safe then there's something to it."

After he said that, everything went dark. When she was more aware of the world around her, she smelt sterile air.

Oh joy, a hospital.

For some reason she hated hospitals. She didn't know why, but she did. There was a deep dislike for the place. She brushed her fingers against the cloth under her and felt the stiff material. It was definitely a hospital.

"I know you're awake," An older voice informed her, "It would be in your best interest if you stopped pretending to be asleep."

She wanted to tell the voice that she hadn't been pretending until her mind woke her up. She opened her eyes and then immediately shut them from the pain of bright light. Her eyes were burning and the light chuckle from beside her didn't help. She frowned, she felt as though she was being mocked. She forced herself to keep her eyes open and slowly sat up in the bed.

"Can you speak?" the old voice asked her, and she slowly looked to the side to see an old man with a white robe.

"Yes." She nodded.

"Can you tell me why you were in the forest, covered in blood?" He questioned her.

"There…there was a dark room…" She answered.

"Where was this room?" He asked,

"I don't know."

"Who put you in the room?"

"I don't know."

He hummed at that and pulled a pipe out of his robe. She frowned at that, weren't hospitals no smoking zones? That was all she could think of upon seeing the wooden object. He seemed to feel her disdain at it and paused in the action of lighting it.

"What is your name?" He asked her.

"She called me Kaguya." She answered.

"Who?" He prodded for information.

"I don't know, she stopped moving before I could ask."

He didn't respond to that and she watched as he studied her with a sharp eye. She was doing the same thing back to him for a different reason, she didn't know if he was going to hurt her or not. She wanted to be able to move away from him in time if he did. She felt her hands clench the blanket covering her legs.

"Does the name Uzumaki mean anything to you?" He asked her.

Uzumaki? That name did sound somewhat familiar. She paused to think for a few seconds, a frown appearing on her face. Red hair and violet eyes, a woman giving her a sad look before gently touching her face before being replaced with a woman who's red hair was less vibrant, and eyes were green…she was handing her a strange instrument. There was a word coming to the front of her mind.

"Family." She quietly said.

"There is another Uzumaki within this village who has agreed to look after you," He informed her and she narrowed her eyes in suspicion at him, "The village requires that you join the shinobi academy to make you an asset."

Her mind translated that for her. You are an unknown and as such we don't know if you're a threat, we want to indoctrinate you into our beliefs to make you a weapon. She pondered what a shinobi was, but slowly gave him a nod of understanding. It made sense in her mind; it was better to be under watch in a village where she could see the light than in the dark room covered in red.

She'd just have to play at their own game. Who cared that she couldn't really remember anything, she was going to be the best…shinobi she could. That was a promise she was going to keep.

She'd have to, or else she'd lose her mind

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