Chapter 3
It was quiet.
The birds had stopped chirping and Mitsu’s hands had started to clam up but she refused to acknowledge the imperceptible twitch of her fingers to grasp a weapon.
Something was wrong, something had changed but she couldn't figure out what.
And then the world shifted on its access, blood rushing to her ears and her eyes snapping to the men as they ripped her sensei to pieces before her very eyes.
Chains.
Blood flowed freely from the wound onto her hands, sticky, red, -familiar
No.
Not her.
Not hers.
Not hers.
Not hers.
The bloody kunai in her hand is pried from her fingers, gloved hands grounding her as her face is shoved into a warm side.
The rush of blood in her ears fades and she becomes distinctly aware of the smell of sandalwood and iron.
“Are you back with us?” he drawls in his lazy apathetic voice.
She goes to nod but his hand on her head is warm and his gloved fingers smell of ink, “Yea… Is he dead?”
A moment of hesitation before the body she's pressed into rumbles, chest vibrating almost in a purr.
Something familiar and suppressed answers the strange call, her throat producing an answering vibration that seems to startle the man into moving his hand so his fingers settle over her pulse point.
“You injured him, but it wasn’t your doing kid.”
“Yea.”
They move on, walking quietly and with purpose before boarding a boat.
Naruto hasn’t spoken since he’d pulled the poisoned kunai from his hand, his shoulder a constant at her side, pushing into her lightly to keep her present.
Sasuke says nothing, does not tease either of his teammates or boast about his performance. He simply moves to stand a little closer, a little more alert at their side, not quite touching either of them but watching, making sure that while their minds are elsewhere that someone is there to protect them.
Kakashi's book has been put away. Discarded in favour of watching his three Genin. His eyes only leaving them to scan the perimeter, his hands shoved into his pockets where the faint outline of a kunai lay. He wipes each of their hands of blood in silence, scooting so that his team sits practically in his lap, his presence firm and unyielding as a reminder that he won't allow anything to happen to them.
Wave country was beautiful. Mangrove trees we’d only ever seen in books hung protectively along the water's edge, making it impossible to see where they stopped and the island began. The island was wrapped in a thick mist that swirled around the trees and covered the sky like the low-hanging clouds that rush through the canopy back home.
The salt burned their lungs slightly with every deep breath, the moisture accumulating on their skin in sticky droplets.
Every time Mitsu opened her mouth to speak she was assaulted with the bitter taste of salt as it danced across her tongue and made her twitch. The feeling was annoying at first, but over time it became almost comforting in some strange way. Almost as if it was something she didn't know she needed.
Clear water allowed them to look down into the depths of the ocean as they sailed across. Narrow channels zigzagged throughout the mass of new terrain and wildlife darted through the channels to hide in the tangled roots.
Each of them was mesmerized by the new experience, their bodies handing off the sides of the boat in hopes of getting a better look. Their fingers pointed out things they had never seen before, excited whispers being exchanged as they saw one thing after the other. Sensei’s low chuckle reverberated through them as he kept a firm grip on all their clothing in case they fell in.
Arriving at the dock they were greeted by dark wood and black rock. Sharp edges rounded off the sides and made underwater shelves that fish hid in. Large gray cow-like animals with round tails grazed on the seagrass that grew along the sandy sea floor. Tazuna-san said they are called Manatees.
Mitsu’s camera was out most of the trek, snapping pictures of the landscape, her team, the animals they saw, and every new or bizarre design.
The house was silent late into the first night we arrived.
We ate quietly and all went up to our rooms in companionable dread. Sensei was unconscious in the room next door, Tsunami-san taking care of him for us. She offered to share her room with me, but I politely declined in favour of sleeping close to familiar people. I was afraid, I think we all were.
Bandages were wrapped around one of my wrists, a few cuts and scrapes covered by gauze and a little tape we’d found in Kakashi’s flack jacket.
We laid our sleeping mats out quickly and scooched them all close together in one part of the room. Our mats became one big bed filled with blankets and pillows, our bags at our feet. We didn't even change separately for fear that we would be attacked while we were separated, the boys not looking as I pulled on my oversized shirt and baggy gym shorts.
We turned off the lights in the room and triple-checked that the windows were locked before climbing into our sleeping mats. They watched silently as I pulled out my journal and the undeveloped pictures from my pack, organizing them into what I thought the right order would be.
They read over each word as it was neatly printed onto the paper. Smiling at some parts and frowning at others they both inched closer until I finished and placed the book back into my bag.
“Why do you write everything down?” The question came from Naruto as he moved to allow me to lie down.
I lay down and snuggled into the pile of bodies that had formed, all of us silently seeking comfort from one another.
“Well, I’m afraid to forget something. A memory or an idea. If I can’t remember, then at least my books can.”
A head of messy black hair plopped onto my shoulder as a head of yellow came to rest just above my own.
“Why are you afraid to forget?” Sasuke’s words bounced off the walls.
Could I tell them? Should I tell them?
I pulled the blanket further up until it rested just under my chin. Taking a deep breath I closed my eyes and imagined what this team might become one day.
“My mother. They don’t have a name for it. It’s kind of like her mind was in pieces… A few shards stuck in the past, a few floating around in the present, and the rest lost at some point along the way.”
Arms looped around my waist and warm breath fanned across my forehead.
“Sometimes she didn’t even remember who I was– who Kaji was. So I don’t want to forget. Not for me, because It won't hurt me to forget, but for Kaji. He needs to know I’ll remember.”
None of us slept that night.
Mitsu set a tray beside her sensei, some simple crackers and a glass of water.
If Mitsu was correct he should wake up in a few hours, his chakra levels increasing at a steady pace.
Scooting so she was sitting beside him she flipped open her notebook, a book on moulding chakra and chakra strings/exercises lay open before her. Carefully she read over each line, drawing out diagrams and relating the information to what she already knew.
He felt like someone had draped a damp cloth over his eyes, the water having gone cold with time and leaving an uncomfortable weight behind his eyes.
His throat was dry and ached as if he had been force-fed cotton while he slept.
The sound of steady breathing reached his ears, his shoulders tense before he took in the slumped figure beside him.
Cyan hair lay around her head like a halo, pretty amber eyes closed and mouth slightly open as she slept. Her head was cushioned uncomfortably by a thick book, a page or two bent at a strange angle.
One of her small calloused hands was wrapped around the fabric of the blanket draped over him. Her brows furrowed in her sleep when it shifted as he forced himself into a sitting position against the wall.
Quietly fishing the notebook from her side he flipped through it absently, his other hand lowering his mask to sip at the water by his bedside.
Drawings, detailed explanations of anatomy and theories on how to use chakra to enhance her physical strength and speed. The rough outline on a vocal Genjutsu, the name of the technique absent.
The more he read the higher his brows climbed, eventually brushing past his headband.
Glancing at his genius little Mitsu-chan he could see her as an accomplished Jonin with a team of her own, eyes shining the same calculating amber and her smile just as unjustly haunted and knowing.
Shoveling a handful of crackers into his mouth he pulled up his mask and huffed. It seemed he still had some digging to do on his easiest little Genin.
My hand wrapped around the girl's neck almost too easily. She was thin and didn’t weigh much, her body lifting off the ground without too much of a fight.
“You're too fragile, like a porcelain doll,” the words left my mouth without much thought behind them.
She only spoke 3 words to me–
“Non timeo vos.”
No quiver or stutter in her words, just pure unbreaking determination to show no fear. A custom not commonly used in other nations. When fighting or sparing with another of your own, you abandon your fears, for they will not help you. It’s a sign of respect for your opponent, but it also reasserts your confidence in yourself as a Kiri shinobi.
I am not afraid of you… It's been far too long since someone’s said that to me.
The golden orbs were borderline defiant in nature as if she’d been in this very situation hundreds of times before. She didn't struggle, she didn't cry out or try and claw at my hand like anyone else would. She just hung there, a glare on her face but her mind elsewhere. I watched as a memory replayed in her eyes before they glazed over.
I’d seen something far too similar in the veterans from the war. Their bodies and minds reliving the battles they’d fought. The vacant look that crossed their faces while it happened.
“Who gave you your cracks doll?” It was a startling reminder of the monsters the system breeds.
Her eyes shifted slightly before she was no longer looking at me, but looking through me. Her all too familiar eyes reminded me of someone I hadn't thought about in many years. A girl my friend had once fallen in love with, long before the war ended. Long teal hair, glowing smiles, an innocence about her you rarely found in Kiri emanating from her body in waves that made you pause when she walked by.
Pain shot up through my arm suddenly. She dug a kunai into the wrist of the hand holding her above the ground.
What was that girl's name?
My vision became blurry, the sensations around me fading away. I remember now…
Her name. It was Ryoko…
I respect Zabuza in a way. The recognition. I’m not afraid of you. 3 words in my mother's tongue that she had hammered into my head like nails into hardwood.
Kakashi-Sensei had clipped his side, sparks dancing across my skin making me yelp. Instantly Haku caught the man, making eye contact with each of us before turning tail and running, Zabuza slung over the pretty boy's shoulder and his mask left sitting on the grass at Sasuke’s feet.
Don’t be afraid Ahma, it only gives them power over you.”
“Conceal your fear, if they can't see it they can't use it.” She would say after every nightmare.
“Fear is a tool, Ahma. In our customs fear controls everything; all it does is hold you back.” She would smile brightly and make me dance with her no matter what time of day, rain or shine.
In the beginning, when she was just beginning to lose herself she used to ask me two questions every morning before I went to school, “Are you afraid Ahma?”
I’d reply that no, I wasn't afraid.
Then she would ask, “What do you say when you're afraid Ahma?”
I’d look away and reply I’m not afraid of you.
Then she’d smile and send me on my way…
I never quite understood it.
I could do nothing but get in his way when he moved to attack Tazuna on that bridge. His hand around my throat like a collar; a statement saying that he could kill me at any time and there was nothing I could do to stop him.
The feeling still lingers with the bruises left around my neck.
Naruto smiled and bumped his shoulder into mine gently. I allowed the swaying motion to continue and bumped lightly into Sasuke. He looked over with a blank face before it slowly evolved into a small smile. Laughing lightly I slumped my arms over their shoulders, bringing them closer to me. “So, when we get back, who wants ramen?”