Mother Doesn't Cry, But I Still Do

There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief, of deep contrition, and of unspeakable love. - Washington Irving

Mother never cried.

This became apparent to me when I was sobbing quietly in the back of the pleasure house I was being raised. Silently, I cupped my cheek within my tiny hands as I viciously thought of ways I could have my vengeance against the boys in the red light district. I thought back to the moment in which they unleashed their "superior" male strength.

I had been walking to the street market to buy the cheapest noodles I could when a boy named Mafuma and his friends knocked me down in their run for escape of an angry mans rage. They had stolen some sweets from his cart on the side of the road, had been caught and had to run. They got away but weren't to happy with me getting in the way, even though I hadn't meant to. I guess most men in the district where the same in this right. Once provoked, they just kept going at it, fighting despite themselves. It was stupid but I guess it gave them something to do.

"You bitch," the leader of the group had called heatedly. His boys piled beside him, like a circle of protection from whatever. They all held this air of self-importance to them, which was menacing to no one but the kids themselves. I didn't know if they were aware yet just how idiotic the adults thought they were, playing "thug" and running around a stick up their asses. They were all heinous and had the habits of the worst of mutts. Wait, even dogs had better manners.

"Yeh, you bith!" came the stuttering fool of them all. I looked up to them, doe eyed with my faked innocence. I schooled my features with a face of quiet calm, much like I saw my mother do often even in the face of danger.

"It wasn't very smart of you to get in the way." said the leader. I shrugged, knowing my arguments would go wasted with their thick-headed heat.

"It wasn't very smart of you to steal." I replied, picking myself up. I glanced at their sweets and noticed the screaming man in the background, a kind man if you were nice to him.

"Whatever, whore's daughter. That's what my dad calls you." Leader said, crossing his arms with a smug look. My fists tightened and yet I still refused to downgrade myself to their childish levels.

"At least my mother doesn't beat me." Yeah, I know. I can be mean though and wasn't against word-violence, like anyone else.

"Oh yeah?" I could see the hurt in the little boys eyes and the fury he possessed. "You're pathetic."

"No, that remark was." Done with the small talk, I turned around to pick up the stuff I dropped in an ally way upon the collision. With a sigh, my arms piled in the heavy bag materials I had for the noodles and other supplies. For a moment, I forgot about the dangers a group of male children held within their tiny palms and hadn't saw their cheap tricks coming. With a loud crack; I heard the impact before I felt it. I growled, dizzy from the sudden hit to my head. It wasn't a very good hit, fortunately. The weapon was probably a random stick, with bad aim and terrible arm strength. Despite how terrible a job the attack was though, it still hurt and I was still a child.

Then, before I could even recover from such a kid tactic, someone smacked my cheek with even more strength than probably intended. For a second, I saw stars in my vision before I was thrown to the ground like a rag-doll being played with. Leader was on top of me in a flash, or at least my double-visioned eyes saw it as so, more likely the movements were all sluggish and raw.

"Woah, Mafuma don't kill her!" someone in the posse shouted.

"Relax, Akamin." Leader's, or Maru's voice was nearly breathless. I felt something wet on my face and neck, for a second I thought it was blood- my blood, but instead as my eyes began to focus I was surprised to see tears coming from the boy above me. The clear liquid pooled from dead blue eyes, sad and desperate. He leaned closer to me, anger and an intent to harm clear in his voice. "At least I have a name. Your mom doesn't even love you enough to give you a name! Nameless piece of trash!"

My eyes widened with the intensity, but pulling myself together as well I could, with my bit of human sympathy I rubbed the kids head. Being older than the kid mentally, I was the adult here so fighting was pointless for me but for him, it was everything. I used the bit of information about all the kids in the district I learned from the pleasure house in such a petty way, and ended up touching such a thing I never needed to. I ended up touching his weakness.

Something about that actually enthralled me, gave me such a hype, but while I enjoyed it I still knew it was gravely wrong and disrespectful.

"Sorry." I said softly while rubbing his tangle of hair. "But pushing a girl isn't right, no wait; pushing anyone isn't right." I gave him a silent disapproving stare, my lips although swelling, were enough to calmly pout. There was a ringing in the back of my head and a stinging on my cheek that wouldn't stop. Silently, I kept telling myself that I had to be the better person in this situation even though to tell be honest, I wanted to do nothing but fight back. To grip these little knots of brown silk hair I held and rip them out. I was so evil apparently.

A shocked blush rose into the kids face, heating his angry expression. He got up and ran to his group, intent on never looking back.

Angrily, I had headed on home with my welt and hit to the face with my diginity still in place.

"Honey what's wrong?" I jumped at the noise of my Mother's sweet soprano voice. I glanced quietly at the doorway to see her gazing at me with concern. Thinking back, I could've hit Mafuma for saying such things, even if he hadn't meant it in honest thoughts but to only hurt me with the true as I had done to him. Yes, I still had yet to receive my name but I knew my Mother loved me. I didn't need reminders of what she'd done just to keep me.

Unfortunately, my Mother was quite the looker, and in the district that wasn't really a good thing. I wasn't shocked how many men came by just for her, she had a list going on for her patrons. A list that angered me to no end, since it never did. Mom had those curves Asian women would kill for, going against the normality. Her silky smooth jet black hair was like a razor in cutting in at her side, engulfing her like a ribbon of darkness. When she moved, her hair swayed, always as if protecting her from what on-lookers would see- a busty woman. Her eyes were wide, unlike the almonds she should have had, with long lashes that curved naturally and thickly. Her lips were plush and held gloss very perfectly, like a diamond she shined. She was like a doll, and men took her as that. A sex doll.

As for me, I couldn't really tell how much I took after her. As I grew older, I noticed the slight hints to a body more like hers but I was only 5 at the moment, so it'd be much later that I would really know. Often though, she would tell me how much I looked like my Father. From what I gathered, he wasn't someone I would ever meet anytime soon. I heard stories from the women at the pleasure house, always speaking in hushed tones, I had adapted to the art of sneaking. Most often, I heard a tale where my Father had fallen madly in love with Mom, she had denied his affections and had instead offered him a child. Heartbroken, it seemed he had vanished, refusing the so-called gift. I couldn't believe that though, knowing how sad Mom looked gazing at me when she told me of him, I could tell she truly missed Dad.

Secretly, I hoped my Dad was a ninja and that's why he never came by.

Yup, I said it. Ninja. Over the five years of life I had experienced, I had still yet to wrap my head around the "truth" that I was in a fictional world. Welp, I'm not in Kansas anymore, instead replaced by a world I was slightly terrified of. To be honest, the thought had only occurred to me after I saw the familiar Konoha shinobi flak jacket on visiting men with their charges handling business. Before that, I had thought I just lived in a "rural" village probably in the middle of no where, my reason for why things seemed a bit aged. Luckily, there were still convenience stores placed around near the market, a strange piece of technology I hardly noticed in the manga and show of Naruto, my place of being. Apparently though, I had the bad luck to end up in a small village in the middle of Fire country, where some fights broke out often.

This place was a hotspot for drugs and sex; I was going to grow up with that.

"Nothing." I said, suddenly ashamed of my tears. Crossing the room with grace and to where I sat, on the bed's corner, Mom came to sit next to me.

"It's not nothing," she said pointedly, brushing her hands through my locks of dull brown hair, I hadn't got her hair sadly. Mom smiled at me, eyes bright and cheerful despite her hard life. I wondered for a moment if I had been worth it for her, for her to keep me by her side.

"I-it's noth-" she gave me a knowing glare. "Well, these boys were being mean to me." I said in a hushed tone, turning my face away from her view. I was so ashamed, and it was completely un-called for. Why did I have to feel this way? Mom's hands snaked out immediately and came to grip my pointed chin, turning me to stare at her with wide eyes of mixed emotions. She chided me then, telling me about how I needed to trust her more. With every word she spoke, I couldn't help but feel more lonley and dependant on her. I had no one else but her, we were as sisters it seemed, I loved her so much and I could tell she felt the same with me. But was I worth it?

"Mom..."I began. She stopped mid-rant, eyeing me with curiosity and concern. I smiled, but lost it once I found my words in the back of my throat, making their way up. "Do you...was it worth it?" I asked with heated cheeks.

"Was what worth it?" She asked at first, then understanding filled her every action. Her eyebrows shot up, mouth forming a silent "o" and her eyes reflected the very question in my own. She readied herself to answer me, I could tell, but then there was a knock on the slid door I hadn't noticed shut.

"Come here, Sekacchi." I heard Yorika, another worker at the house, say softly. She was always that way, so soft, and that feature had made her the second most requested. Mom's eyes filled with happiness at the sound, a fire hose to wipe away whatever emotions she had been feeling. The two were odd, being best friends even though they should've been rivals. At least when I read in books about this kind of setting, everyone always seemed to hate the number one, even though it wasn't always that much of an honorable position. Well, I guess it was the most honorable for your house.

"Yes, Yori! I'll be back, my sweet." With that, my Mother left.

Mom didn't come back, which was unnerving and strange. She always came back. I didn't see Yorika either.

"Hey, uhm...House Mother, has my Mother come back?" I asked, using my hushed tone. The house mother was a stern old woman with kind eyes. She loved each and every one of her girls, and had even began to pay for womanly classes I would use for my future of working for her. A little presumptuous but I had to admit, the possibilities were pretty certain I would work for her as an adult, as it was hard for a woman of such backgrounds to work anywhere else besides where she was raised.

"No, little Seka," She said, her cold voice cracking just a bit with worry. Seka was her little nickname for my nameless self, as Mom's name was Sekacchi. I found it funny how she still tried to hide her emotions with me. I had thought we had melted the ice of our hearts a long time ago. Maybe it was so I wouldn't worry. "But don't worry, I'm sure she'll be here soon." Yes, because my mom isn't a liar.

As usual, I went to my classes held with some other girls of the house, as it were, I was the youngest. The girls there didn't seem to mind my presence, but they didn't really acknowledge it either. There were three, Arisa, Risa, and Kaori. Risa and Kaori were friends, seeming to come from the same village before sold here while Arisa was a loner like me. We were usual partners when the situation called for it but we had never done much talking. All three were pretty girls, a terrible thing in their line of profession, as I've explained. The more attractive, the more chance you'd get requested. I saw this as a bad thing.

After the class, the knot of worry within my small, childish frame intensified. I grumbled over lunch, as a depressed air settled around me. I usually wasn't the happiest of child's, but I'm sure people saw just how content I was with how things were, I only needed my Mother. Yes, my Mother...was my everything.

A small realization hit me right then, struck my heart and pierced my mind, depressing me further. In my old life, I had been incredibly in-dependant, my parents had hardly spoken with me and I wouldn't see them for weeks at a time. I was all alone. I hardly had any friends so I used music and things that made me feel good as my anchors, I'm glad to say that I never touched alcohol or drugs in that life though, and never in this life either. Having my new anchor gone from me, even if it was for a little bit, I just...couldn't handle that. It left my heart empty.

"Little Seka, eat." One of the woman named Sayuri said lightly, rubbing the crown of my head to make sure of any illness. I shook her off, a sad frown on my lips.

"I don't feel like it," I said. Sayuri chuckled, a sly smile forming upon her delicate features.

"Little Seka, if you don't eat, you'll never grow up. You'll be a shrimp forever!" Sayurui giggled, eyes bright. I allowed a small smile and a look at my dish. If I grow up, I wouldn't need her. Right? Then I wouldn't have to be so dependant. I shoved the food in, resting my hopes on the words of these adults. Sayuri rubbed my back with an air of understanding. "Hey, if your Mother doesn't come back by tonight, why not stay with me?" I looked up and nodded, giving her a smile.

"Sure, thank you very much, Sayuri-san."

When I finished my lunch, I started to walk around. This wasn't the first time Mom had to leave but it was the first time she left without telling me where. She either forgot to, or something very important took precedence.

Street vendors tipped their heads in recognition of me as I walked by and waved, they were all familiar. I had grown up here after all, I was welcomed anywhere and sometimes the men would feed me some of the food from their stalls or let me try new foods for them. I often helped out with them as well. It was small things, but I helped. Secretly, I hoped that one of these days, instead of selling my body for money, I would work in one of the vendors.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mafuma and Akamin messing around with some toy they had. Mafuma paused, as if feeling my gaze on him, he was the only one to look up and meet my gaze. I saw a tinge of embarrassment before he blushed and turned away. At that moment, I was feeling social so I decided I would go up to the boys and make some conversation with them, completely forgetting the fact that we weren't really on good terms.

As I approached, the boys stopped playing, a look of disdain on their faces. I smiled politely and waved to them.

"Uhm, what are you guys playing?" I asked, curiously. Akamin was the first to answer, he took my politeness as a good sign. He was the type that forgot easily about the past, forgiving and forgetting, and while I was usually the opposite, I could see the point in being able to forgive. Just, it wasn't something I could do easily. For whatever reason though, I had forgave the two boys fairly quickly. Maybe I was feeling guilty with what I said to them.

"It's a yo-yo!" Akamin shouted, his voice a crazy squeak. I loved it. If he was to sing, I could tell he'd be a favorite voice of mine. It was bad habit of mine to judge others on voices alone, forgetting about looks or even personality. The down-side of having a voice fetish. Luckily though, most people in this world had cute and manly voices galore! Lets just say though, that I liked a lot of people.

"Oh, I like yo-yo's," I replied, a grin crossing my face at the memories of my yo-yo phase in the past. It was fun, but I later quit the hobby and continued my whole obsession with Anime and other things.

"Really?" Akamin asked, "Well what else kind of things do you like?" he was a curious little kid, much like me. Yup, I could forget about ever being mad at this little whipper-snapper. At my silence, he continued with a blush. "Well...I mean you never talk...so I was just wondering." Akamin laughed awkwardly, making me smile further. Mafuma was just quiet.

"I like noise." I said oddly, a down-casted gaze as I thought back to the beauty of it all. "Your voice is really nice too." I commented.

"You're weird..." Mafuma finally spoke up, his sky blue eyes quizzically staring at me. I laughed, sitting down next to him, Akamin stood just a few inches away, watching with curious eyes. I liked Mafuma's voice even more...

"Well so are you."

"So...you like voices? That's why you're quiet?" Akamin quipped. I nodded.

"I-I guess," I shut my eyes to the world, listening to every piece of sound I could find. A dog breathing heavily with the afternoon sun, a baby snoring in a crib inside a house, a woman singing to herself with such a sad vibrato.

"You're really pretty." I heard someone say, it took a while for me to realize where this voice came from, a boy who was so angry at his world. Mafuma. I opened my eyes, a shocked look crossing my face. I frowned.

"Thank you." I said before standing up once again.

"Where are you going?" Akamin asked, springing the yo-yo outwards, catching a pole and getting stuck.

"Somewhere to be alone," I say in english, knowing very well they won't understand. The thing about languages you love, you don't forget.

"Wait!" Mafuma shouted. I paused in my retreating. "Uh...nevermind..."

When I came back to the house, I found Mother pacing the floors of our room. I had to restrain myself from running up to her and squeezing her with all my might.

"Oh, baby." She said under her breath as she sized me up. I still bared the bruising of my fight- although how one-sided that was-, which had darkened over night. I traced the outline of the huge mark, and flinched as I pressed. "You slyed out of it yesterday, but now I want to know. Who did this to you?"

I looked up to the anger in my Mother's eyes, sighing, I drawed back into myself. "Some boys in the market,"

"Which boys?" She demanded, her eyes furious. Yup, my Mother was such a feminist. She probably could've been more accepting if I said girls but when male's were mentioned, she lost her shit.

"I tripped on them! They didn't mean to." I defended. "Anyways, you didn't come back last night...I was worried."

"Ah yes, hurry up and pack your things. We're leaving."

"W-we're...what?" I asked. With a flurry of motions my Mother started to pack whatever belongings she had into bags. I stood there for a second, mind still processing such quick banter. Then, I decided all would be explained once things were settled. It was a waste of time to question any longer.

I hurried, although my tiny hands hindered most of my picking up of things. Luckily, we didn't own a lot of stuff, besides clothes and books. The makeup Mom used was paid for by her patrons, along with all the accesories she had. We didn't need them where we were going though. As I continued to pack, a pang in my chest hit me. This was my childhood, I could hardly even remember anything else besides my time here. Suddenly, I felt irritated at this. I forgot something now didnt I...there was something I couldn't quite think of. It was the worst feeling of presque vu I'd ever experienced. I had it, but I didn't. I know I had been thinking of it just yesterday, right?

I roughly shook the feeling off, concentrating on what I was doing. Suddenly though, as I tried to get a grip on myself, I heard a crash from across the room. I whirled around to see a huge man gripping my Mothers neck within his hands. A woman, so familiar, stood barely inches away. Yorika. A wicked grin played on her lips, a look so happy and sickening I couldn't take it. Anger washed through me. This bitch, what the fuck was this bitch doing.

"Let her go!" I shouted, dropping whatever I held in my tiny fists. Stupidly, I ran over to the man who held my struggling Mother. Verosciously, I pounded on his legs, being to short to hit anything else. He ignored me, eyes blank and mouth turned downwards in a display of boredom. I growled. "That's my Mom! Not your play thing!"

Yorika scoffed, drawing my attention to her. I glared through my drooping bangs. She laughed out right at my attempt. "You really are the daughter of that idiot, aren't you?" Yorika side-stepped me and circled my held Mother, who was still fighting for her life right before my eyes. My heart sank with every second, I was going to be sick. I had to do something-anything. I had to protect her. Had to protect her life, her future. But what good can a five year old girl do?

"I'm surprised really, when I found out you worked as a ninja in Konoha, I couldn't quite believe it...and how your father was the one to kill mine? Hah! Classic!" Yorika stopped her circling to give Mom a glare meant to kill. "The reason my life has ended up like this...it's all your fault!"

"R-run..." My Mother choked out, glancing my way with worry. My eyes widened. No, I couldn't. I had to protect her, at whatever costs.

"Do it, do it now. Stab that bitch!" Yorika shouted. In an instance, I saw the blood before the blade. It gleamed crimson as the slight shing of the sword unearthed itself from the man's sheath, it was all done with such stealth. I paused, eyes so wide, I thought surely my eyes would pop right out of their sockets. This was the blood of my Mother. My. Mother. A dark, disgusting anger filled me- this couldn't.. no...I...no...yes. This feeling was instinct, the worst kind. I was now out for blood.

I screamed as loud as possible, running to grab whatever weapon was available. From the corner of my eye I saw a shining hairpin, practically made of diamond. It was a gift of some wealthy man of polotics. My hand gripped the pin with a strength I hadn't thought possible of a five year old body, but it was almost all practically done mentally. I jumped for my chance at whoever was in my way, my eyes barely registering a flurry of rock hard muscle. Just as suddenly as I had gone into primal instinct mode, it was all halted at the movements of some boldier.

I coughed out as I felt something wrap at my neck. Gagging, I felt a stir of nasousness take me. I couldn't breath. It was like a quick death was just too good for me. My hands went around the hands wrists, scrapping at them to let me go. I had to protect her. My mother...I had to protect.

An iron taste filled my mouth as liquid spilled. My throat was going to explode...my wind-pipe was crushed underneath all the pressure of this mans...fist.

As my last attempt to fight, I gave up on his wrists, taking the diamond pin and ramming it straight into any main arteries I could hit. I knew...I knew where to hit. My father was a doctor...wait...I didn't have a dad. Did I? No, no, this wasn't my first time living was it? I had lived before. That meant, even if I did die, it surely wouldn't be my last time...

I punctured it. The blood of the rock man poured out of his wound. With a vile smile of my own, I cut further, slicing around.

"What are you doing! Kill her too!" Yorika yelled.

I fell from the mans grip once he couldn't take the pain no longer. Once free, I hit the floor with a hard pang. I coughed, eyes teary from such suffering I had endured. When my eyes cleared of whatever haze that covered me, I glanced to where my Mother lay in a puddle of her own blood. Shuffling to her side, I saw her chest making the barest of movements. Up, pause, down, pause. The cycle repeated, each time the pausing would lenghten. Her eyes fluttered open, shocking me with how intense the color of the deep sky blue eyes I had inherited could be. These were her eyes.

"L-look...a book, under...my bed...for you." She forced out, tears springing. I couldn't believe it. These tears...were the first I had ever seen of her crying. I felt the emotions streaming so strongly for me, for my survival. An apology was left to keep my head spinning from such oddities. I grabbed her hands within mine, silently promising to make her pain go away. She smiled at my stupidity, but it seemed to have worked. The pain was gone from her eyes, leaving me her tears of happiness instead. "You were worth it...to me. Remember...I've never been so happy to have lived. Thank you, for being mine." A dimming of her eyes left her almost translucent at her last breath. "I love you." It sang.

You were my future, my reason to live.

A/N: Ugh, I suck at those kinds of scenes so I made this short instead of lengthening things. Now that that's out of the way! Some questions you may have: "What the fuck is up with a book?" Will be answered in the next chapter. "Why did you kill her mom!?" I'm not a nice person. "What's up with side characters having names?" Uhm, I don't know. SIDE CHARA'S BE COOL YO.

Also did anyone notice where I got those names? Hehe, shit. I crack myself up.

Thank you for reading! Please review. *^*