A/N: This is my first fanfiction! Please let me know what you think. Any and all reviews/criticism are really helpful! Thank you!
It was raining.
Thank god her shoes were waterproof. Marina pulled her umbrella out of the outer pocket of her backpack. It slid open with ease and she slid her fingers beneath her backpack straps, adjusting them back into place. If she hadn't already used to lugging it around her college campus, she would probably regret having brought it along. Her airbnb check out time had been a little early for her taste but, considering it was her last month in Japan, the last thing she wanted to do was catch her Shinkansen back to what she'd begun to consider her home.
After eight months in one city, surely it was safe to call it home.
She sniffled, got tighter grip on her umbrella, and continued picking her way up the mountain path. Her hiking boots dug into the wet earth well enough for her to be undeterred. No one else was willing to make the climb in this weather on a Tuesday afternoon. She'd skipped her Monday and Tuesday classes so she could spend four extra days exploring Kyoto. Back when she visited the first time, she was still unsure about her Japanese. The city was beautiful, but also painfully 'tourist'y. She hated tourist traps. While visiting Ginkakuji and Fushimi Inari were unforgettable experiences, the people could be suffocating. Nothing ruined a moment of historical wonder like girls taking selfies. She understood the desire to document an adventure, sure, but it would be just enough of a reminder of her own outsiderness that would sour her mood. So, when she felt as though her Japanese had improved enough for her to go off the beaten track, she bought some Shinkansen tickets, packed her good shoes, and made for the mountains surrounding the historic city.
A fog was settling over the mountain, but that still wasn't enough to deter her. Her phone still had sixty percent battery, her pocket wifi was at least half-way through its charge, and she had her portable charger. It wouldn't get dark for another three hours at least. She'd be fine.
Marina switched her umbrella to her other hand and carried on, keeping track of time passing by the endings of well worn out songs on Spotify. Every now and then, she'd spot small, concrete laterns that stood along the path, reassuring her that she was going the right way. She didn't need much guidance, though. Finding concrete slabs arranged as makeshift stairs came fairly often on the steeper parts. The stairs themselves were often worn down to an angle; chances were they were older than her home country, America. The thought made her smile and she carefully picked her way over the stairs, placing her feet in the indentations that hundreds of thousands of feet had done over the centuries too.
She could tell she was getting close to the top of the mountain by how cold it was getting. She paused momentarily to pull out a sweater as an extra layer between her t-shirt and rain jacket. The weight change in her backpack was noticeable enough for her to continue forward at a faster pace. Fast enough that she wasn't entirely sure when she noticed that the lanterns alongside the path had been lit up.
That was… different. Most of the time, they were left unattended unless it was some kind of celebration if she remembered correctly. It was pretty enough to make her pull her phone out of her pocket and snap a picture for her Snapchat story, but it gave her pause. She didn't remember reading about any festivals on the website when she'd looked up this shrine path. Besides, even if there was a festival, she should have seen a lot more people. She crouched down - her knees popping - and tilted her head to see the candle was already half melted.
Well, maybe this lantern was close enough to shrine that the priests felt they should light it when it got foggy out?
That was what she told herself she stood back up, anyway. She wasn't too keen on going back the way she came without having at least something to show for it other than a picture of a lantern. Not to mention she knew she'd arrive in less than half an hour. It'd be fine.
God, she hoped it'd be fine.
Just because she believed in spirits didn't mean she messed with them. She didn't mind tarot cards and crystals. Most of her childhood had been spent reading books about wizards. The phase had been deep enough for her to know a thing or two, but that didn't mean she'd willingly mess with something like a ouija board. This lantern situation didn't sit well in her stomach, but she forced herself forward.
The stone lanterns continued to glow alongside the path, guiding the foreigner up their mountain path. The rain kept at a steady pace, drumming gently against her umbrella. The ancient stairs presented themselves in neat rows, lifting her higher and higher still until, finally, she saw the bright red of the tori gates through the fog and the trees.
Marina let out a quiet sigh of relief and paused just outside the gate to collect herself. She'd made it without any boogeymen coming out at her. Her previous nerves melted away as she pulled her earbuds and paused her music. She respectfully bowed at the entrance and made her way over to wash her hands. The water was cold, so she only really bothered with the tips of her fingers. Surely, that would be enough. She made sure to rinse off the handle too before setting the wooden spoon back into place.
She rubbed her hands together in an attempt to warm the back up as she slowly walked towards the shrine itself. Gravely crackled under her feet until she stepped upon an uneven stone path leading her up to the steps of the shrine. A ways to her right hung a few wooden blocks with wishes written on them. On her left, a building she assumed normally sold charms, postcards, and the like, but whose lights were out. A bit beyond the temple stood some other buildings, but she was hesitant to explore too deeply; she didn't want to encroach on anyone's livelihood. Afterall, she was a foreigner.
Even foreigners could pray to gods they didn't wholeheartedly believe in. It was better to be respectfully safe than regret something later down the line. Marina pulled out a five yen coin as she walked up the stairs to the shrine and tossed it into its box. She weakly pulled on the rope of the bell, not wanting to disturb her silent surroundings too much, but it rang out so loud that she accidentally jumped.
She let out a nervous laugh and ran her fingers through the end of her ponytail. "Sorry," she whispered to no one in particular before bowing twice and quietly clapping her hands. Her prayer was more of a feeling than anything else. Of both nerves and relief. Excitement and anxiety. She bowed one more time before stepping away a bit quicker than was necessary. She always felt awkward doing something like that, but she'd rather be safe than sorry. She made her way down the steps and turned around one more time to gaze up at the shrine, this time with her phone camera in hand. A quick pic of the architecture later, she noticed some kanji she recognized but hadn't bothered to read earlier on a sign. So, this was the god of distant travels? Precisely the god she needed. Marina smiled and bowed once again despite herself, lips forming a silent thank you for having gotten her to where she stood safely. Perfect. May this god continue to look after her until she was home in a few weeks' time.
The thought saddened her more than she was willing to admit. Her family life had never been good and, frankly, she missed her cat more than she missed her parents. The only person she truly cared for and missed was her abuelita but, even then, she was returning to her country. She'd be gone by the time Marina came back home. She might as well stay in Japan, but she needed to graduate. She'd worked too damn hard to win her scholarships and watched her parents scrape by with what little they could manage for tuition for her to throw it all away. If it hadn't been for her winning that government scholarship, she wouldn't even be standing at the shrine she was at now.
Had this god been watching over her back then, too? Back when she first applied for that scholarship? Back when she discovered that her school had a good study abroad program? Maybe even further back than that? To when her parents decided to move to the States? It was hard not to believe such thoughts when she was surrounded by scenery she never thought she'd be lucky enough to see in her life.
She smiled and allowed herself a moment longer to bask in her beautiful, solemn, solitary surroundings before turning and making her way back down the mountain path. While she'd visited the shrine, the rain had let up just enough for carrying the umbrella to feel unnecessary, so she packed it back up and pulled up her hood instead. With her peripheral vision blocked and the fog thickening, she was admittedly grateful for the still-lit lanterns patiently guiding her back to safety.
Until she spotted one of them with its ancient top knocked off. More like ripped off. That was not okay.
She quickly pulled her phone back out. Another two, one and a half hours until sunset. She would be fine. She just needed to make sure that her anxiety didn't make her slip and injure herself on the way down was all. In an attempt to calm herself back down, she grabbed her earbuds and pulled up spotify, but it said she had no internet connection. She tapped the symbol on her phone for her wifi but the pocket wifi's name wasn't there. Her phone was on airplane mode to avoid traveller's fees, so she couldn't bother searching for signal. She pulled out her pocket wifi and its battery was at 20%, but it said she had no service.
Definitely not okay.
She shoved everything back in her pockets and zipped her rain jacket up a little higher - anything for a little reassurance that things would be okay. Maybe she was just reading too into things. Maybe it was just the fog messing with her wifi. Not to mention she was pretty high up in the mountains. Maybe her signal had been fizzling in and out long enough for spotify to preload her songs quickly enough for her not to really notice the lack of signal. She just needed to get down the mountain.
Her legs moved with purpose and she dug her hands into her pockets, concentrating on not slipping down the well worn stairs. What had once been a fun detail now made her grit her teeth in worry as she carefully placed each step so she wouldn't go sliding down. Luckily, the lanterns she passed by were all in tact, but those became the least of her concerns.
The air smelled like smoke. There was no reason in hell for the air to smell like smoke. She hadn't seen any lightning earlier and it was much too damp for there to be a wildfire out here anyway. Besides, who would camp on such a steep mountain path?
Combined with the smell of smoke was the growing scent of tree sap. She'd covered her hands in gooey pinesap as a child enough times to recognize the scent, even if the trees weren't pines.
That was when she noticed it. Up ahead, it looked like there had been some kind of landslide without left over debris. Perhaps a rock had fallen down the mountain face? The trees had snapped on both sides of the path and the outer edges of the stone steps had been cracked off. How the hell had she not heard that while she'd had her earbuds out at the temple?
Now, she listened intently. She didn't hear anything out of the ordinary - other than the blood pounding through her ears, of course. Slowly, she made her way towards the line of destruction. As she neared the center of it, the broken trees allowed her to see trees that had been burnt to a crisp a little higher up the mountain. She turned to look below for the source of the destruction, but didn't spot anything too out of the ordinary. That is, until she noticed a piece of black, torn fabric sticking off of one of the broken, jagged trees right near the path.
Oh, fuck no.
Her legs moved without her command. She barrelled down the steps, backpack bouncing uncomfortably as she flew forward.
An explosion tore through the air on her left, making her dive down and cover her head with her knees. Nothing landed on her, but it had been close enough to make her ears ring. She didn't bother checking to see what the hell had happened. All that mattered was that she got the hell out of there.
Until, of course, something landed in front of her that would have made her scream if she hadn't already been out of breath. Or, rather, someone.
Standing in front of her, chest heaving as though he was painfully out of breath, stood a man she'd only ever seen on a television screen. His long black bangs brushed the tops of his cheek bones. His lips were coated in blood. His black cloak was ripped and torn at the edges, with some of the clouds having been ripped away too. His red eyes were exhausted. Red that shifted to black.
Behind her, she could hear the sound of flames flickering. She turned her head just barely enough to see the scarily familiar black flames of Amaterasu. She quickly focused back on the man who should not be standing in front of her: Itachi Uchiha.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the breath he sucked in was wet and the only sound he made was that of coughing. Coughing that wouldn't stop. Marina couldn't help but stare as the man - the fictional character - seemed to just barely suck in enough air before another round of coughing rattled his frame. He stumbled backward, his back hitting a tree growing alongside the path, and slid down.
For once, she couldn't come up with any hypotheticals. Her mind raced to find answers, but none of them seemed even remotely plausible. For the first time in her life, there was not even a lie she could hang onto as reassurance. All she could really register was the broken, sickly man trying to find the ability to breathe again. The sound was getting to her. It was horrible. Fictional, impossible, and horrible. She wanted it to stop. Needed it to stop. Slowly, she set down her backpack and pulled out a half-finished water bottle she'd bought at a 7/11 before she started her way up the mountain. She picked her way over to the man and crouched down just an arm's length away, ignoring her popping knees.
"Here," she offered in English, hand shaking.
Itachi looked up, squinting his eyes as though he was just barely able to make the shapes out in front of him. He reached forward, his hand grasping at empty air.
His depth perception is off… Marina gently pushed the bottle into his hand for him and he shakily took a sip when he found a long enough pause between his coughs. It seemed to help, because he quietened down the more that he drank until he finally turned back to the traveller.
"Thank you." His voice was rough and quiet, the Japanese quick and polite.
Itachi Uchiha had just thanked her.
Nothing would ever be okay again.