I will protect you.
Those four simple words echoed in my mind, stronger than the pain, stronger than the whirlwind of noise in my head. I was struggling to stay afloat, to stay above it all, and they knew it. The pain increased, becoming unbearable, and I whimpered.
"Again."
The cold voice rang in the near-empty room, and my father was immediately obeyed. After all, how do you say no to someone who holds that much power, someone who holds your life in their hands? The assault on my mind resumed, pain and fear worming their way into my heart.
I will protect you.
A whisper, so easily heard above the screams in my head. Or perhaps those screams came from me, I could no longer tell. She had protected me for as long as she could, but in the end, he had found us. She was dead now, had been for almost 8 years. My mother, who had given up everything and everyone she knew and loved, had died trying to keep me safe. To protect me from those who would use me, those who would harm me. She had died trying to protect me from my father.
I will protect you.
"Enough!"
I shivered at the tone of his voice, hearing the anger and disappointment. He was always at his worst when I disappointed him, when I failed one of his lessons.
"You need to learn to control it!" he snarled, stalking towards me. "You will not fail me!"
I cowered before my father, terrified of a man I had only heard stories of, and none of them pleasant.
"We will continue tomorrow. I am very disappointed in you."
Bowing my head, I said nothing. I would not give this man the satisfaction, even knowing that punishment lay ahead, just on the other side of that door.
I will protect you.
As we walked through the gates of Konohagakure my jaw dropped. After 4 years being moved from basement to basement, I could do nothing but stare, open-mouthed. The bright colours and sheer openness of the world staggered me, almost made me fearful. There was too much to look at all at once, and I found myself growing overwhelmed. But I kept these feelings in check, for the fear I felt towards my father was far stronger.
As instructed, I stayed quiet and followed him into the village. I had long ago left behind the childish need to hold someone's hand, and yet I found myself wishing for the comfort of my mother's hand on mine. Instead I stuck close to my father's side, hating my dependence on him, and knowing that I could not be free of it.
"Are you sure you want to enrol her at the academy?" a soft, feminine voice asked.
Looking up, I berated myself for not paying attention to what was going on around me. The young woman who had spoken so quietly was watching me, something akin to pity reflected in her eyes. I smiled shyly, as I had been told to do, and went back to staring at the tiled floor.
"Of course," my father answered brusquely, a hint of pride in his voice. "She's very talented, and I want her to become the best she can be. That's why we came here, we've heard great things about your shinobi and your village."
His smile was warm, but as father glanced my way I saw the cold calculation in his eyes. He really did want me to become stronger, to reach my full potential. He wanted to use me, to have someone strong under his control. He wanted a weapon, and that was me.
"Alright, I have the enrolment forms here. If you could fill these out and return them with the rest of the paperwork, she can start next semester."
The woman, whom I had come to like for her quiet voice and soft manner, handed my father a stack of papers to add to those he already carried.
We left the building in silence, Father leading me down streets and dark alleys until we came to a block of shabby-looking units. The boy at the reception desk could not have been more than 16 years old, the same age I was. Though his face wore the petulant look of a 9-year-old told to clean his room before he could play. He silently handed over a key after reading through the paperwork Father passed his way, and we climbed the stairs.
I was pleasantly surprised when the door to our unit was opened. It was a single bedroom unit, with a small kitchenette and even smaller bathroom, but it was clean and well-lit. The furniture had obviously been well-cared for, and the bedroom contained two single beds rather than a double.
"Unpack quickly, we have to get through this paperwork. And you will know our story by tomorrow, or you will never leave these rooms."
"Yes Father."
I placed my few meagre possessions in the bedside table nearest the window and returned to the lounge room. Father had already spread the paperwork out on the worn coffee table, and gestured for me to sit.
"May I choose my name?" I asked hesitantly, head down.
The silence that followed weighed heavily on me. I looked up cautiously, expecting anger. Instead, my father merely looked thoughtful, and a tad uninterested.
"You can choose your first name. I must agree to it, or I will be choosing the name myself. Understand?"
I nodded quickly, mind racing. I did not know what name my mother had given me at birth, as we had constantly used fake names to hide behind. To finally have a name I could call my own, one I could use without fear of being caught in a lie, was something I had dreamed of ever since I had come into my father's care.
Mother's name had been Mizore, that much I could remember. I had been told to never use that name in front of strangers, but she had allowed it when it was just the two of us. To me, it was the most beautiful name I had ever heard. But Father would never let me use her name, so I would have to use something else.
"Miya. Can my name be Miya?"
Father nodded, a little absent-mindedly, as he sifted through the paperwork before him. I grabbed some forms to fill out, and paused.
"What name are we using for our surname?"
"Nakamura."
The afternoon was quiet after that, the only noise coming from the rustling of paper and the scratching of pens. The paperwork wasn't complete until much later that night. Dinner was a quiet affair, neither of us desiring to talk to the other. While this was not uncommon, something about Father's relationship with me had changed. He did not seem to care that I was there, which was unusual. Had something happened? Or was he really just that absorbed in the paperwork?
"Class, we have a new student joining us today. She transferred here from Amegakure. Miya, would you like to tell us a little bit about yourself?"
The class turned to face me, all except one student who appeared to be sleeping, and another who appeared to be drawing something in his notebook.
"Um, hi, my name is Miya Nakamura, and I just transferred here from Amegakure. My father and I move around a lot, but hopefully this time we've found a place to stay."
I smiled nervously, face turning bright red. Thankfully, Iruka-sensei saved me from any further embarrassment by drawing the class's attention back to the lesson. I followed along quietly, only half-listening to Iruka-sensei. Father had already gone over this lesson with me to ensure I didn't start behind everyone else, and I found my mind was wandering.
"Hey, Miya. It's lunch-time. Are you coming?"
I jumped slightly, startled out of my reverie. A boy with light brown hair and bright green eyes was standing in front of my desk. Next to him was the boy who had been drawing in his notebook when I introduced myself. Suddenly I realised we were alone in the classroom, as everyone else had already gone outside for lunch.
"Oh, I, sure," I stammered, jumping to my feet. I followed them outside, surprised that anyone had decided to approach me at all. It hadn't occurred to me that people might be interested in me. The two led me to a shady spot under a nearby tree, where we sat and started to eat.
"So, why do you move all the time? Did your dad piss off the wrong people?"
"Asahi! You can't just ask someone that! She barely knows us. Besides, that hardly ever happens to anyone around here."
The boy who had been drawing for the entire lesson turned to me, apologetic.
"Sorry about Asahi, he's got no tact. My name is Haru, we're glad to meet you."
"I- It's nice to meet you too," I responded quietly, unsure.
They were being so nice, and I had no idea how to react to that, or how to act around them. No one had been this nice to me since my mother died. Thankfully, they seemed content to just let me be while they talked, and I found myself enjoying their company. I spent the rest of the day's lessons with them, helping Asahi. He was eager to learn, but some of the concepts were a little confusing to him.
All too soon the day was done, and I had to return home. I moved quickly, not wanting to upset Father on my first day.
"How was your first day at the academy?"
"It was alright. The lessons were easy, we've already covered them."
"That's good to hear. I want you to keep me updated on your studies. Now go do something outside for a while, I need the unit this evening."
"Yes Father."
"Make sure you're back by dinner," he called to me on my way out the door, and I nodded my acknowledgement.
I had spent the month before classes started exploring the village, and now headed for a secluded spot that was well-suited to my solitary needs. Most afternoons I would sit under a tree and read, keeping to myself. Sometimes teams of shinobi would train nearby, but they left me alone as long as I didn't get in the way. I would watch them train discreetly when I grew tired of reading, but I was careful not to draw any unwanted attention to myself.
Today, however, was different. As I approached my usual spot one of the shinobi training nearby broke away from his teammates and stalked towards me. I was on guard immediately, something about him made me dislike him immediately, though I had no basis for it.
"What do you think you're doing here?" he asked as he reached me, and I sighed inwardly.
Though the shinobi's voice was calm and cool, his eyes burned. I could not fathom why he was so mad. What could I have possibly done to him?
"Reading," I responded coolly, eyebrow raised.
The shinobi glanced at my book, before returning his gaze to me.
"You have to go somewhere else, this area is for shinobi only."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know that. I'm new around here. My name is Miya. May I know yours?"
I waited a moment for a response, but stood to leave when I received nothing in reply to my question. The shinobi reached out and grabbed my arm, and before I could even think about it I reacted instinctively. I threw him over my hip and jumped away, ready for an attack. The black-haired shinobi stared at from the dirt, astonishment and fury on his face.
Oh shit.
I backed away as he got to his feet and dusted himself off. The last thing I had wanted was to draw attention to myself, and starting a fight with one of the village's shinobi was definitely one way of drawing attention. His teammates had started moving towards us, and in my panic, I ran. To my horror, the team leader followed, silver hair flashing in the late afternoon sun.
I started towards the unit I shared with my father, before remembering his instructions to never show anyone where we lived in the village. Cursing, I abruptly changed direction and led my pursuer on a twisting path through the neighbourhood, hoping to ditch him somewhere, though I knew better than to think I could actually manage it. Maybe he'd get bored of the chase eventually and leave me alone.
But no matter how hard I tried, I could not ditch the guy, and I knew I was in trouble. Tired of running, I decided to wait for my pursuer at the next crossroads. I sat on a bench and waited, catching my breath. It wasn't long before he had sat next to me, his arrival sudden and silent, almost as if he had appeared out of thin air. Despite my best efforts, I jumped slightly when I noticed him beside me.
"That was impressive."
"What?" I asked, startled. I definitely had not been expecting a compliment, and it caught me off guard.
"That was impressive," the shinobi repeated. "Though I suspect that Sasuke is going to hold a grudge against you now. He asked for it," the shinobi added before I could open my mouth to interject. "He hates being caught off guard, and he won't forget this. You might want to watch yourself around him."
"Am I in trouble?" I asked, confused. I had attacked someone, and run. No way he was here just to compliment me.
"No, I heard and saw it all. Just keep an eye out."
And with that he was gone, as suddenly as he had appeared. I remained where I was, confused and unsure of what had just occurred. It wasn't yet dark out, so I couldn't return to the unit anyway, Father would still be busy. Instead I took the time to compose myself so that I might avoid questioning. Father would be most displeased if he knew what I had done, we were supposed to be keeping a low profile. Though he had given me far more freedom than I had expected, almost seeming to not care what I did, as long as it did not blow our cover.
It wasn't until I arrived home that I realised I had left my book behind when I had run. I pondered retrieving it, but decided it could wait until morning. It was special to me, but explaining where I was going to Father would be more trouble than it was worth. After a quiet and uneventful dinner, a ritual I had grown accustomed to, I headed into the bedroom to retire for the night. There, sitting on my pillow, was my book.
Maybe I'll like it here after all.