Monochrome
A Naruto Fanfic by Sarah Stalcup
Disclaimer – I do not own any of the characters in the Naruto universe. They are copyright Masashi Kishimoto.
Prologue
Sunrise had yet to show itself as faint steps echoed in the early mist. Droplets of dew, clinging to strands of grass, fell in peril towards the ground, triggered by a passing figure's intrusion.
Natagawa Umeka never intended for anything peculiar to happen as she went foraging for the tender bamboo shoots that grew along the forest river's bed. She never expected to hear anything save the calls of crickets and fowl, the voice of the river. This was routine, ordinary, boring and tedious. A simple job for a simple girl of 15.
As she walked along the damp grass, careful not to tread too far into the bank, she searched tiredly, cursing her mother for making her wake up so early. Her messy golden-blond hair, hastily tied into a loose bun on the back of her head, showed blatant signs of weariness, as did her half-lidded, brown eyes.
Working her way around rocks and tight clusters of small trees and bushes, Umeka's rubber boots thankfully kept her feet warm. There had been a rain shower the previous night and the river level had risen a little. And even though it was late June, the absence of the sun's warmth cast a chill over the entire landscape.
Despite her drowsiness, Umeka could not deny that the large willows of the surrounding forest created a peaceful backdrop to work in, as did the slow, tumbling of mist over the river's surface. She started to whistle a simple folk tune.
Nothing peculiar. Nothing out of the ordinary.
There came the sound of clamor. Behind her, coming from the riverbed's delicate fronds. The color of her skin turned to that of sour milk.
Dropping her straw basket to her feet, Umeka listened intently to the sounds, muted and soft, straining her ears. She began to back-track, eyes now wide with alarm, trying to find the source of the mysterious disturbance. It seemed to come and go, this intriguing sound, almost animal-like and yet not bestial. Her breathes seemed to catch in the back of her throat as she struggled to make them noiseless, and instead the air came out her nostrils in labored huffs. She continued to make her way along the muddy bank.
The forest around her became glaringly quite, save the noise of the enigmatic creature.
There, right in front of her. Umeka could tell she was painfully close. Closing her eyes once, twice, she bolstered her courage. She was not trained to be a shinobi, a fighter, but with her cutting knife clutched tightly in her right hand, blade pointed down like a kunai, she at least felt a little safer. Another sound emerged, this time a faint hum, and she grasped the tool firmer yet, so much that her long fingernails prodded the soft under-flesh of her supple, young hand.
The sound stopped, and Umeka crouched behind the large cluster of vegetation that she suspected the creature was hiding in. She kneeled, her legs tucked underneath, the tips of her coat trailing into the water's edge, soaking up moisture like a sponge.
Drawing a long-breath, she thrust a hand into the bush, and parted the strands of long-grass like the drapes of a curtain. Teeth clenched, Umeka raised her weapon into the air, ready to pierce the flesh and fur of whatever lay within the overgrowth.
Umeka suddenly pulled her hands away, her knife fell lose and at first the girl thought she might scream in surprise. She fell onto her backside into half-a-foot of chilly river water, her coat and pants instantly becoming sodden; she shuddered, but not from the cold.
Collecting herself for what seemed the hundredth time this morning, Umeka brought herself back up to the circle of plants. This time she slowly moved her face through the blades of grass.
A single child, naked as if just born, lay in the water, anchored down by the river grass and soft mud. It gurgled a little, as Umeka rubbed her eyes, bits of residue and crust tumbling from the corners. It was 5:24 in the bitter, frigid morning and she was not in the mood for one of Fumimaro's practical jokes, nor for day dreams and phantasms.
She peered downwards, hoping that the pale, ghostlike and parentless infant would have vanished with the morning haze that was fogging her mind. Sighing, she found it to still be there, cooing gently, cheeks ruddy from the cold.
"How cruel…" she said, finally finding her voice. Umeka eyed the child suspiciously. No parent from the Waterfall village would abandon a child like this, which meant that it was an orphan, and she worried that it might have been subjected to the elements for too long.
Quickly and carefully, she took off her coat. Its quilted lining was waterproof and still dry, still warm. Laying the coat on the ground, the girl bit her lower lip as she reached into the grass and lifted the naked infant, who was now giggling, as if unaware of its terrible circumstance. In a moment of clarity, Umeka noticed that there was no umbilical cord.
Pushing this thought aside, she wrapped the baby in her coat and after dumping her collection of bamboo shoots, placed the bundle within the confines of the basket.
Umeka found her pace treading towards a sprint as she hurried back to the Waterfall village, the blisters on her heels ignored blindly. She felt the skin of the baby's stomach, and found it to be dangerously cold. The infant's life depended on her now.
Whipping past towering maples and miniature mountains, Umeka felt her heart throbbing within her ribcage, her throat dry from anxiety. Just as she saw the gates of the village, she suddenly felt her ankle go awry, felt it twist in a way it shouldn't. Gasping, she clutched the basket close to her chest, and with a yelp, she toppled across the ground, the knees of her pants ripping, her face becoming soiled with grass and muddy grime. Her legs, especially her left ankle, ached with a searing pain, but the child was safe, if not a little stunned, its green eyes wide and glossed over. Choking back a tear, Umeka staggered back into standing, as she hobbled towards the wooden enclosure that surrounded the entirety of the village. The muscles in her leg pulsated as blood rushed to her injury, turning her skin purple. With all her determination, Umeka struggled to ignore the hurt. She was so close, she could see a few figures not even 20 feet in front of her, taking watch at the village's entrance.
Alerted by the girl's heavy footsteps, the closest guard suddenly lifted his sleepy head towards her.
"Umeka!" he shouted, dropping his polearm, rushing to her aid as Umeka collapsed again from exhaustion. He noticed the basket that she was desperately clutching, but could not pry it from her tired arms, not without force.
"Ni-chan! What happened!"
"Fumimaro…a child…" the girl whispered, loosening her grip once she recognized the face of her older brother, allowing the young guard to release the bundle from her arms. In an instant, she passed out on the ground.
"Takihashi! Get a stretcher!" Fumimaro ordered another guard, as he carefully unwrapped the bundle. A cry spilled from the coat, and he nearly dropped the basket in surprise, "What in the world…"
The baby began to cry more passionately, maybe from hunger, maybe from fear from the previous fall. Fumimaro discovered that although he was prepared for some of the most precarious situations, ranging from raids to natural disasters like floods, he was now at a loss. With another wail from the baby, Fumimaro shook his clouded head, knowing fully well what he had to do.
"Takihashi…take Umeka to the hospital…I must go to the chief…" he said resolutely, focusing in on the mysterious child before him, fists clenched and feet kicking.
The sunrise finally broke through the thick clouds ahead as a new day began in the Waterfall village.