The Box Called Death

When Naruto was very young and had just started the Ninja Academy, Iruka-sensei told him a story. “Once, a long time ago, a carpenter made a box,” he said. “An ancient tree had grown in the centre of their village, loved by many of the villagers because it had been their playground when they were young. One day the tree died, and the villagers took the trunk to the carpenter and asked him to make something from it, something which the villagers could remember the old tree by. “The carpenter accepted the task, and began work. He chiselled at the log, day after day, working tirelessly on this creation, pouring his love into it. When it was finished, it was magnificent, stronger than any box made before and saturated in the villagers’ love. It was plain and not much to look at, but for those who had the eyes to see it was something great. “Not long after the box was made, the village captured a horrible creature. It was a frightening and hideous thing, violent and cruel, and it cost the lives of many of the villagers for them to capture it. It was too powerful for them to kill, so they looked for a way to contain it. “They knew the box was the strongest ever made, and was filled with the love of hundreds of thousands of the present villagers and the villagers before them. They decided to put the creature in the box, and hope that the love that had gone into making it would be enough to hold weaken its dark and destructive soul. “So they sealed the creature inside the box, and placed it out on display for all the villagers to see, on the stump of the old tree. The villagers would come and stare at the box, to hate what was inside, and to feel grateful that their love for the tree and the box was containing it. They spoke of the creature death in hushed whispers, turning hateful look on the box and what was inside. “But over time, they began to forget what the creature had looked like. It came to be the box itself they looked at in hatred, and their love for it and what it stood for began to fade. Instead of love, the box became associated with hatred, and its hold on the creature weakened. “One day, a stranger came to the village, and asked what the box was that sat in the village’s centre on the stump of the old tree. “The villagers told him that it was a box called death. “This one last act overcame the love inside the box, the hatred of the villagers overwhelming the strength of the seal, and the creature was released.” Iruka finished his story, looking down at the six-year-old Naruto. The boy frowned, his sky blue eyes narrowing into a squint. “I don’t get it,” the boy said. Iruka half-smiled. “The villagers forgot that what they hated was not the box itself,” he said. “The box was made from love with the highest of hopes and expectations. But when the creature was sealed inside it they gradually forgot this, and they began to hate the box because they had not seen what it contained – what they truly hated – for too long. Once they began to hate the box, the love the box held faded away and the demon was released.” Naruto looked confused. “I still don’t get it,” he said. “Iruka-sensei, why did you tell me such a stupid story? It doesn’t make sense!” Iruka had laughed, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Okay, Naruto-kun,” he said, smiling. “How about I buy you some ramen to make up for the stupid story?” “YAY! Ramen!” Naruto jumped up from his seat and charged off, running towards the Ichiraku at top speed. Iruka stood and followed more slowly, his smile fading as he saw the looks of the other Konoha villagers as the child sped past them. “You’ll understand one day, Naruto,” Iruka murmured, and sighed.

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