CHAPTER TWO.
Yet another restless night full of nightmares. To describe it better, memories twisted into nightmares. I won't go through the trouble of telling you. It's too much for me to even experience them, much less replay them. Maybe later.
Let me explain a few things, though. I'm a memory keeper, part of the Kioku clan. I began remembering things at around 7 months old. The memories fell in patches and chunks from then until I was about 1 and a half, at which I began remembering literally every waking moment. It has become nearly impossible to get any sort of silence mentally.
Now imagine this- complete silence is never achieved. You're constantly plagued by every single memory of every single time that you felt sad, depressed, angry, embarrassed- every negative mood. This creates a mixture of emotions, none of them good. As a lovely side effect of being a 'memory keeper', a title most would love to have (ha. It's certainly not all it's cracked up to be, because it fucking sucks), if you don't perform a special jutsu specific to the Kioku clan, you'll go insane. Your state of health nose dives, and it becomes near impossible to eat anything without almost immediately vomiting it right back up. If you don't commit suicide from being completely miserable all the time, you'll starve to death.
Since I began remembering everything earlier than anybody else, I have a shorter life span if I don't perform the jutsu. I give myself until I'm almost 15, at best. The worst thing about this situation?
I never learned how to perform the jutsu.
The reason for that is simple- the members of the Kioku clan don't learn the jutsu until they are fifteen or fourteen, and since my whole clan (besides Kazuo, who was missing) was dead, I had no one to teach me. I'm only twelve and a half now. So, unless I track Kazuo down or find someone else who knows the jutsu (there's about a .00000001 percent of that happening, so I'm definitely not counting on it), I'll be dead within two and a half years. That's definitely not something I want to think about, however likely.
Despite the impression you might be getting from me right now, I am emotional. I just rarely show it, for reasons that are my own. The time I am sure to be set off is when someone questions why I see the whole 'memory keeper' thing as a burden. That enraged me beyond all belief. I had a feeling that the three boys on my new team- Naruto, Sasuke (emo that he is) and Kakashi- would be the ones to draw the emotion out of me. That thought made me happy, but I didn't smile
I get out of my bed with a bit of bitterness- I had gotten about two hours of sleep. I walk quietly to my kitchen, sparing a glance at the alarm clock on my bedside table. It was four in the morning. I ignore Kakashi's warning to not eat anything. I knew I was getting too thin. I put two pieces of bread in the toaster. As I'm waiting for them to finish, I take a plate from the cupboard above the sink and grab the butter from my refridgerator. It, like my cupboards, was near bare. I needed to go grocery shopping.
When I finished eating, it was 4:15. I decide to take a quick shower, as I hadn't had enough time or energy to do it yesterday. When I make it out, it's 4:30. I dress rapidly-it would take me twenty minutes to walk to our meeting place, so I needed to hurry. I make sure to pack my weapons pack- I didn't know what we'd be doing today, but I'd surely need it.
I'm second to arrive, after Sasuke. He does nothing but spare me a glance. The wind blows through the trees, and I savor the relative silence. There were a few whispers in my head, but it was ignorable (AN: is that a word?) enough to make me happy. We stand there, together, in silence. Until Naruto shows up. He's quiet, at first, but soon starts babbling. I don't mind as much as I thought I would. Something about him put me at ease.
We sit there, waiting, for at least four hours.
I pause slightly before chancing a step from my hiding spot. Kakashi tenses, and then turns to face me. Internally, I'm a bit upset. On the outside, though, I show nothing (as per usual). He was really, really good- better than I had expected. I inch forward slowly before readying my kunai. I grip it tightly in my right hand, and then I rise to my feet, pouncing on the silver haired man.
There's a poof of smoke as the substitution takes place. I mentally kick myself-how had I not noticed? Whatever, it didn't matter now. I use my momentum to throw myself down, hitting the ground with force. The impact jars me slightly, making me loose my firm hold on the kunai. It falls from my hand. I quickly reach out for it, snatching it before propelling myself forward once more, turning my body around in the process. I come face to face with Kakashi-sensei. I jump forward yet again.
I'm coming at him with the intent to kill, or at least harm, him. He obviously notes this, and for once puts his book in his pocket. We engage in a brief bout where we're simply using taijutsu. I feel a bit dizzy, unsteady on my feet. The sudden exertion, combined with the fact I was already using strength just standing, had me a bit off. Suddenly, Kakashi's fist comes in contact with my chest, not enough to cause damage but enough to knock the breath from my lungs. A powerful memory is brought up by the simple action, and my vision begins to blur as I'm sucked in. I feel myself fall to the ground as Kakashi calls out my name.
"Got you again, Kimi. You need to pay more attention." Masao says, landing yet another blow on me. We were sparring and he was definitely winning. I was only 8 years old, but Masao was intent on preparing me to become a shinobi. "Again. Let's go." He tells me, and I get back in a fighting position. My entire body was aching from all the hits, punches and kicks dealt. But I wasn't going to get up-ever.
I push the door fully open, stepping inside. I could feel that something was very wrong. I walk down the hall slowly, noting the scent in the air and the way everything was too quiet, too still. I couldn't quite put a name to the smell, but it was repulsive. My stomach twists in anxiety, and I step inside of my living room.
My breath is forced from my lungs as I take in the sight before me. I only manage to catch it in glimpses- my mother's dress was covered in blood, and she was splayed across the back of a chair. She was obviously dead, apparent due to the blood and the wide, angry cut in her throat. My father wasn't even in one piece, bits of him -an arm here, a leg over there- spread across the room. The fan on the ceiling spun lazily, dripping blood. All the walls, the floor, and the ceiling were covered in spurts of the nasty red liquid. There were other bodies spread around -my aunt, my three year old cousin- the living room. A couch pillow lay shredded, the white feathers tainted with the sticky liquid.
All around me was death. The scent was finally placed- rotting bodies. I spot Masao. His hand was pressed to his stomach in an effort to stop the blood flow. His chest moved up and down with shallow breaths- he was still alive!
"Masao!" I cry, stricken with grief and guilt. Tears pour from my eyes, and I run to his side. I don't care that I splash up blood with every step, or that when I land in a heap next to him, I'm kneeling in a puddle of his blood. "We need to get you to a hospital!"
"N-no...Kami...I love you," he says, shaking his head. "I'm a goner...but K-Kazuo...he got out. Safe." He pats my hand gently, making me cry even harder.
"N-no! We have to save you! I love you too m-much to let go!" I stutter. I grip hand tightly in mine, squeezing.
"L-love you. I...don't let yourself get filled with h-hate." He tells me. His grip begins to loosen. I just cry harder and beg him to stay, to let me patch him up as best I can and take him to hospital. He offers me one last soft smile before slipping away.
