Green Spandex
-and-
Gray Jacket
C H A P T E R
O N E
.
Yuki hated the fact that tears, these things of weakness, were streaming down her cheeks. She hated the fact that even as a ninja, even with over nine years of training, she had broken at just a few minutes after her father's words.
"Useless girl! All you ever know is having things easier for yourself. Selfish! Don't you care about your father at all? Don't you know how your uselessness reflects on me? How do you think I face the others of my status with a daughter as weak as you? How do you think this makes me feel, when your mother and I have so painstakingly brought you here to Konoha, left the Wind Country just for you to become a better story? Why are you crying, huh? USELESS!"
Were these indignant tears? But she had nothing to feel indignant about. Her father's words were true.
Was this self-pity? But she didn't pity herself; in fact, right now she hated her own weakness and stupidity, for crying like the weakling she was.
Was this anger? But the emotion didn't burn like anger should. Rather, with each sniffle it felt as if someone carved another hole in her chest. It felt painful and hollow.
Stop it, she told herself, wiping at her eyes. Emotion is a weakness, sadness is a self-maiming blade. There is no logic in tears. No logic.
She sat up a little straighter and took breaths in and out, in and out to calm herself. With another sniffle, Yuki stood up from the ground and stomped her legs out of their sleepiness. With another shuddering breath, she wiped away the last trace of her tears.
Her head felt dizzy, as it always did after a round of crying. The hard lump in her chest was still there too; it didn't leave with her tears. Yuki turned her head left and right, trying to pinpoint where she was. Where she had run to.
The ringing in her ears, where her father had struck her, left long ago, so Yuki could hear clearly the faint rumbling hum of the Sunday shopping crowd not too far away:
". . . twenty-five . . . each . . . special deal! . . . not to be . . . stock's almost gone! . . ."
". . . hurry up, Dai . . . not now! We have . . . maybe later . . ."
". . . freshest fruit of all the nations! . . . apple . . . tomato . . . back if it's not satisfying! . . ."
". . . Wow, look at this . . . their miso . . . don't you think so? . . ."
". . . hardware! Just imported . . . and Konoha also! . . . kunai, shuriken . . . guaranteed . . ."
There was something calming to Yuki about the everyday Konohan life. Perhaps it was because of what she had come to appreciate: a village in peace, without the war that had devastated everyone just a few months ago. Perhaps it was simply because of the quiet rhythm Yuki always found with the mundane life. The easy life. The happy life.
For a while Yuki stood there by the alley wall quietly, listening to the hum of activity going on at the main streets. She was thinking about nothing, and after a day of thinking too much about everything, this was a relief.
Yuki didn't want to go back to the house yet, where she would have to face her bipolar father. If he was still in his angry mood, she didn't want to face him. She didn't want to hear him say those words to her all over again. If he was in a happy mood, she would look at his smiles and wonder if everything he had said was a dream. That would be unbearable and always disconcerting. His inconsistent, unpredictable moods were something Yuki didn't want to think about right then.
The numbness that came with crying settled in. Soon she would be able to pull off a fake smile without a problem. And once that happened, she would have to find Akane and apologize for her lateness. Akane, Yuki's best friend, was leaving for a mission soon. Yuki was supposed to see her off at the village gates.
That brought her to another thought.
Crap. I forgot to buy that kunai pack for her again. Where is my—?
Then the green bullet crashed into Yuki.
.
