When my father and I were kidnapped, I could do nothing to stop it. Instead of save him, the police mistook him for one of the kidnappers, and shot him dead.
I lost much more than a father on that day. I lost faith in relationships. In people, in laws, in life. I foresook them all. There was nothing left but me, and I was weak. I decided to change that.
I sought out the ninja organization called The Hand. I passed their tests, swore their oaths, rose in their ranks, even became their leader. It wasn't enough.
A ghost of my former life, one I had never wanted to see again. Or so I told myself. I fought alongside him, and I fought against him. And in the end, I died.
Except it wasn't the end. I was brought back, back to this life without meaning, without connection. Perhaps S.H.I.E.L.D. will have what I'm looking for. I doubt it, but some part of me refuses to give up.
