Chapter six : Lifting the Fog
A single fly began to buzz around her face, but Chihiko paid it no mind, too focused on the owner of the voice behind her. The wind continued to whip about them, and the weather was actually very mild. It did nothing to ease the uneasy atmosphere that hung outside the Waterfall village dojo.
The air seemed vacant of feeling, of sensation, as Chihiko stood, eyes transfixed on the door before her. Her vision trailed onto the ground, the stone stairways. She saw a shadow that obviously was not her own. Instantly, the tears that had cluttered her eyes dissipated and her breathes became controlled and steady once more. It wasn't until the man removed his hands that she decided to speak.
"I know your voice," Chihiko answered, lips small and barely apart. If she was frightened at all, it wasn't showing. "Why are you here?"
"Zaku was a beloved student of mine, as were Dosu and Kin," the man said, voice saturated with grueling remorse. "When I learned of their deaths, I also wept, just as you do now."
At this, Chihiko finally removed herself from her spot in front of the dojo, slowly turning to face the man dressed in the purple Jounin uniform, showing him that there were no more tears to be shed.
She had already seen him in her mind's eye, had been able to place the voice with his malicious face, white like a vampire's. She quickly did a visual once-over, searching him for weapons, and even though she found none, that didn't mean a vile blade wasn't hidden beneath his vest. Even in her emotional turmoil, Chihiko never lost sight of the reality that she could not trust anyone now, this man especially.
"I understand your silence," without a trace of hesitation, the man brushed the back of his hand across the tender skin of Chihiko's cheek. He felt cold, colder then one's skin should feel in autumn, and the kunoichi felt repulsed by his touch. Chihiko fought to hide a tell-tale shudder and pushed his hand away with her own, a scornful look on her face.
"Why are you here?" she repeated her question, trying to forget the slimy, unearthly chill of his fingers, "You are a traitor, Orochinaho. You and your Sound Village betrayed Konoha and now you have returned. Your gall struggles to outshine your inane stupidity…"
"Brave and intelligent words…I couldn't expect any less from Waterfall's best shinobi," the Sound Jounin spoke slyly, trying to feed Chihiko's ego in an attempt to pacify her curiosity. He looked at her through those intruding, amber-colored eyes, and the tremor of intolerance threatened her.
It would take more then feeble attempts at flattery to persuade Chihiko, cause her to drop her guard, for she had no ego to speak of, no flames of narcissism to stroke.
"Why are you here? Please don't make me ask again," Chihiko questioned a third time, ignoring Orochinaho's diversions, "I know all about you, all about the Sound Village's betrayal towards Konoha. You came here long ago, asking for our cooperation. We aided you in blind ignorance…don't count on being so lucky this time."
Chihiko stood her ground as a noble shinobi should, hands at her sides, face composed, although her mind was racing frantically, heart ready to burst forth from her chest; whether it was from fear or anticipation she could not decide. She was unarmed, her Aikido skills her only weapon. However, if this man was going to attack, he wasn't making it very obvious. Aside from his deep-rooted, nearly intrinsic wickedness, Chihiko could not sense any intent to attack.
"I'm here to tell you the truth, to tell you what you deserve to know," Orochinaho finally divulged, the corners of his mouth firm. Standing only a few inches from the girl, he searched her for signs of fear, navigating the surfaces of her face for wrinkles of apprehension. Although he was impressed by her courage, the ruthless Jounin would sooner have his tongue ripped from his mouth than admit it.
Chihiko waited patiently for him to continue, face as still as the stillest lake, her features unreadable.
"I assume you know the spinal-chord of the story, the barest details. Your chief probably went through enormous pains to keep you in the dark," Orochinaho began, eyes closed and head tilted back, as if he were recalling some tragic past occurrence. "I can't blame him. Since you became a member of this village, your only concern has been to train, develop, improve."
Eyes wide and mouth agape, Chihiko was on fire with puzzlement. Orochinaho opened his eyes, slit irises gleaming.
"Yes, I know about you…" Orochinaho smiled a smile that seemed to have lost some of its bite, its edgy-deceit. For the briefest of moments, Chihiko felt at ease. Nibbling at her lower lip, she turned her eyes away, as if to protect herself from his influence.
"Word of your skill has reached many interested ears, and mine are definitely not excluded. But this is beside the point."
"Yes it is, stop mincing your words," Chihiko agreed scathingly. At this, Orochinaho snorted, realizing with a glint of absurd pleasure that he was actually bothering the normally level-headed girl. It was as if he enjoyed seeing her twitch with impatience, as if getting under her skin was some sort of personal goal of his.
"The point is, even though you think you know about the events of two-years-ago, you in-fact know very little," he said, "So I suggest you listen to me intently, educate yourself and try to make up for the last 15 years of blissful ignorance.
"There was indeed a calamity, one so great that it has caused a new piece of history to unfold. Konoha could never have foreseen the great betrayal, nor could I."
"But I thought it was the Sound ninja who betrayed the citizens of Konoha…how could you have been unaware of your own coup d'état?" Chihiko interrupted, raising a single eyebrow suspiciously.
"It was never in the Sound's agenda to overthrow Konoha, never was it our intention to invade," there was a hint of disdain in the Jounin's words, "That was all the Sand's fault…it was they who decreed that it was Konoha's time to fall."
Chihiko knowledge of the Sand was sparse, who lived under the rule of the Kazekage, the wind shadow. Her only shred of knowledge was that they were incredibly elusive, and powerful. More then once Hitaishii had spoken of the Sand's incredible, long-standing history with Konoha, of the brittle alliance that barely held the two nations in balance. From what he had told her, it seemed as though the smallest disturbance – an unfriendly exchange of words, an otherwise unimportant scuffle – could tip that balance, causing an avalanche of regrettable events to occur.
"When all had failed and they finally realized their plans had gone inexplicably awry, the Sand conceded to their mistakes, begged for Konoha's forgiveness, and then blamed my village for the entire ordeal. They went so far as to send three of their mightiest soldiers to fight us as we fled, furthering Konoha's distrust in us," shaking his head dismally, Orochinaho clutched a single hand to his face, covering his eyes. "Those shameless Sand ninja have caused the ruin of my village in order to save their sly hides, using us as a scapegoat to cover their evil deeds. They had a vicious demon on their sides, but Konoha turned a blind eye to it, and instead the continued to harass and stalk us like wild animals with naked eyes full of hate."
Chihiko contemplated this for a while, not saying anything. She watched as Orochinaho became visibly irate, wondering when his brazen lies would stop and a shred of truth would finally reveal itself. He was shameless, speaking in low tones as if to stifle his emotions for the sake of courtesy, which made his barefaced lies all the more nauseating, Chihiko thought. He lied from the very marrow of his bones.
"And then," Orochinaho spoke again, pausing to add an emphasis that Chihiko duly noticed before he continued, "They did the most atrocious thing…"
An electric vibration stung the air as he reached into his vest, pulling a small sheet of paper from the inner pocket, folded twice-in on itself. There was a sudden feeling of sincerity in his actions as he looked at her, slipping what seemed to be a picture into Chihiko's lithe hands.
She looked at Orochinaho again, confused. Slowly, carefully, she unfolded the paper.
And then, her Jounin promotion, her life in the Waterfall village, Hitaishii, her parents – all of it seemed to be a vast, distant and fragile memory.
"Zaku-san…"
The back of her throat became dry, and she used her tongue to slicken the parched surfaces. But in her shock, she found that too to be just as dry, if not drier, and then there was nothing she could do to moisten her mouth.
Chihiko felt her own breath being knocked out from her lungs, for on that tiny sheet of photographic paper was a crumpled figure, helpless, perhaps dead, or at least dying. His features were almost unrecognizable amongst the dust and debris, but there was just enough there to recognize the agonized face of her friend, her only friend. She looked at the picture and felt a deep, sad sickness in her, like fear and horror combined.
"Zaku-san!" she repeated, voice becoming louder, strengthened by the immense power of reality.
Fingers gripping the edges of the photo, arms shaking violently, Chihiko collapsed onto the pebbled stairway that lead to the dojo. In a few seconds her anguish had overmastered her, causing her to be thrown into fits of sobbing grief, one that shook the very bones in her body.
She tore her eyes open, wishing with all her tiny, young heart that she could dash the photograph into a thousand small shreds of paper, so that she just might forget the ghastly image of her dear friend. But she controlled the violent urge, remembering her promise with Zaku, remembering the last and final time she saw him, cherishing that memory like a token of love.
Looking closer at the paper, Chihiko noticed the strain on his face as he lay painfully on his back, eyes squinted, nearly closed in unbearable discomfort. There was a small trickle of blood falling from his mouth, cascading down his charred and bruised cheek. She wished deep down that she could touch that hurt patch of skin, and found herself starting to hate Zaku for dying, for not keeping their promise alive.
But soon she realized how selfish she was being, and her hatred was transferred to herself, for not being there, for not being able to help him. She was being childish, immature, but then again, was she not still a child, forced to live the life of an adult too many years too soon?
A gasp rattled her as she then noticed that one of Zaku's right arm was no longer there, his limb terminating in a horrifying stump. Blood seemed to be pulsing strongly from the injury, and Chihiko felt her head swim with disgust, for amongst the pools of blood was something else. There were swarms of insects, clumped together so tightly that they looked like a squirming shadow, pouring from the gash. She'd never felt so weak.
"Yes, look what they did to him, when he had finally lost the will to fight for his own life," Orochinaho goaded her anger, her sadness, hoping to manipulate it into something useful, "And see the man behind him, the one who caused your friend, my beloved pupil, to die…"
Tears now dappling the stones below her, Chihiko wearily looked at the photo again, afraid of what else she would see. She had been so focused on the prone figure of Zaku that she had completely neglected the person standing behind him, glaring down menacingly, like a vulture over some nasty bit of carrion. He was only a few feet away from Zaku, at least that's what she assumed; it was hard to tell because the picture had been taken from a "worm's-eye-view" perspective. The entirety of his face was concealed by the tall, stiff collar of his jacket, which also covered his upper body and arms. Only a small portion of his face was visible, and even that was shielded mysteriously by a pair of sunglasses, making it very hard to discern the boy's emotions. On his forehead was a hitai-ate, and on the metal plate, shining menacingly, was the leaf symbol of Konoha.
"He's standing…so calmly, so nonchalantly…it's as if he doesn't even care that he's killed someone…" Chihiko said half to herself, shocking by the way the boy stood with his hands tucked deep within his jacket pockets. A shiver escalated from the base of her spine all the way to her nape as a particularly chilly breeze, festooned with autumnal leaves, soared by.
At once, Chihiko was unsure of what to believe, her mind spinning between the words of Hitaishii, her village chief, and now those of Orochinaho. It was so easy to get things wrong, and with no one to guide her, she felt confused, lost in a world that was frightening and cruel.
She looked back and forth between the photo, the ground, back to the photo once more, and then to the hands that held it, those worthless hands that made her feel so very useless. Chihiko heard the chastising words of Eijiro, the cart-owner, ringing in her ears:
Why did you sit there, doing nothing!
and then,
What good are you if you have don't even have a sense of justice…
"Why are you showing me this now? He died two-years-ago. Why now do you decide to come and bring me this ill-news?" Chihiko said hotly, cheeks flushed and eyes ruddy from crying. She looked up from her spot on the ground towards Orochinaho, as she sat painfully on her shins, knees together and feet splayed apart.
"Because what would you have done? Nothing…you would have done what any child would have done and not believed me, or been too scared to act," Orochinaho explained, "But now you are older, wiser, more skilled…And now I must ask you, what will you do?"
She stared Orochinaho full in the face, trying to see if he was mocking her in some way. But he seemed earnest now, and she believed that his feelings ran along hers, that he too felt the same pain that coursed through her weary, sorrow-stricken body. Her vision was blurred from both tears and a rising headache that was traveling from the base of her neck to behind her eyeballs.
"I…I don't know…I feel so many things…but I'm unsure of whether I should act upon them, if I should ignore the pain, or if I should just let it dwell within me, live with the pain…alone," Chihiko said.
At the very mention of the word "alone", Chihiko felt a great wave of rage and despair moving outward from a place deep within her, a place she feared to go. All her life she'd been alone, without companions outside the dojo, and now she would have to be alone again, and this infinitely precious blessing that had come to her must be taken away almost at once. She felt the wave build higher and steeper, she felt the crest tremble and begin to spill, she felt the great mass crashing down with the whole weight of the ocean.
And then she found herself gasping and shaking and crying aloud with more anger and pain than she had ever felt in her entire life.
How long the torment lasted, Chihiko couldn't tell, but the waves had to diminish at some time, had to ebb and creep back out to the abyss of the ocean. Her cries of pain and white-hot angst seemed to last an eternity, but Orochinaho waited patiently, giving her the time she needed to gather herself.
"Zaku-san…Zaku-san and I made a promise…that we would always be friends," Chihiko held back a strong sob, miffled it into what she hoped would sound like a cough, "And he told me that, no matter what, that he wouldn't be seen as trash. And now…and now look at him…"
She looked back down at the photo, feeling the pain that must have racked through Zaku's body as if it were her own pain.
Looking at Orochinaho, the two exchanged a glance that felt like a powerful electric spark; Chihiko said nothing, and instead nodded slightly.
"How will I get into Konoha undetected?" Chihiko finally spoke after several silent moments, "It's not like I can just stroll in."
"Of course not," Orochinaho responded, voice severe and solemn, "Although I'm a bit surprised you're actually considering this…are you sure you want to go through with this?"
Doubting herself, Chihiko knew what she wanted to do, what her heart was telling her to do. But her training, her promotion, her teachers…by leaving them behind, it would be a serious offense to all of them. The photo beckoned her again, trying to push her in one direction, while her devotion to the Waterfall village pulled her back.
We'll be friends…always…
Zaku-san…she thought, and with one final push from her heart, which until now had been dormant all her life, Chihiko crumpled the paper, the face of Zaku's murdered firmly cast into her memory.
"Tell me what I must do," seeking the direction of the Jounin dressed in purple garb, Chihiko returned to her automaton state, mind full with purpose. Her emotions were smattered aside as obedience stepped in.
And so the two formulated a simple, yet effective, plan. It would take place over the course of six to seven days, at the most, and Chihiko would go alone. She questioned why Orochinaho would not accompany her, to help her exact revenge on the insect-shinobi. Zaku had been his student, after all, why wouldn't he want to be a part of this mission?
Orochinaho quickly satisfied her inquiry, explaining that his face would be in every ANBU's bingo book, that they were already on his tail. However, Chihiko wasn't so infamous. Konoha wouldn't be on the lookout for her, Orochinaho said, and, provided with a passport (cleverly forged, of course, by Orochinaho himself), her chances for success were much higher then if he were to go with her.
This was something she had to do by herself, and although she wasn't unused to solitary missions (it wasn't like the village had shinobi to spare), the thought of going into a foreign village on an unauthorized, private assignment unsettled her.
Could she ever go back to the completely restrictive lifestyle within the dojo after tasting the freedom of volition, of choice? More importantly, would she be allowed to?
"I'm glad that you're finally seeing things in a new light, Chihiko-san," Orochinaho said, his face bright with bliss, "I want you to understand this above all: Konoha is the enemy, they murdered your friend, attacked my village, and sooner or later, they will do the same to this peaceful village. I'm almost positive they are conspiring with the Sand, building their forces, readying themselves to take over all the smaller shinobi nations. Waterfall will most certainly be the first on their hit-list. Your aren't just doing this for yourself, for us, you're doing this for the protection of your own village. It's the most righteous thing a shinobi can do."
When he said this, Chihiko felt the tension in her mind lessen, even if it was only by a little. He had far to go before she would listen with the rapt and silence that she gave to Hitaishii. If she was doing this for anyone, it wasn't for herself, for Orochinaho, or the village. She was doing this for Zaku, to pay him the respect she felt he deserved.
"When should I leave?" Chihiko asked, her mission the only thing on her mind.
"As soon as possible, after you've prepared for your journey," Orochinaho instructed. He then pointed to the small manila envelope that Chihiko held close to her chest, "Along with your passport is a map which should lead you along the quickest path into Konoha."
"I understand," Chihiko answered, but then she wasn't so sure of herself, and she continued, "But what of my village now…if I leave, what will happen? Everything I worked so hard to achieve could be forfeit."
"Is your friend's memory not worth risking everything for?" raising an eyebrow, Orochinaho spoke to Chihiko as if to chastise her, "As I mentioned before, this is all in effort to help your village…I know of your chief's contempt for Konoha, and I don't believe they would be so eager to oust such a stellar shinobi such as you."
Once more he threw compliments into Chihiko's arms, and yet again they vanished before reaching her.
"I would not be so sure of that, Orochinaho-kun," Chihiko said, "I have been abandoned before, it would not be an arduous task to have it done again. I am as usable as I am disposable."
"Such negative thoughts! Please don't go about doubting yourself in such a way!" Orochinaho snickered, amused by the girl's humility, "I have no reason to suspect that the chief would discard you so easily."
Chihiko half-listened to Orochinaho's words, her allegiance torn between the shattered memory of her dearest, her only friend, and her home, the people that had taken her in when her own parents would not. These people had cared for her long before she had even known Zaku, and she definitely trusted them more then she did Orochinaho.
Before she could dwell on the matter for another instant, Orochinaho, sensing her hesitation, broke into her thoughts with a pat on her shoulders, taking matters into his own hands.
"Zaku would have wanted only you to beget justice on his murderer…he spoke of you as if you were his only confident," Orochinaho said, a bitter smile pulling his mouth down at the corners.
To his utter disbelief, Chihiko took a few steps away from the door, heading down the stairs, acting as though his last words had been completely disregarded. His throat emitted a low, nearly inaudible growl.
"Where are you going?" Orochinaho asked, a hint of anger rising in his voice. Chihiko thought she could detect a peculiar smell coming from him, something metallic, like two pieces of metal being rubbed against one another, becoming hot and agitated.
"I'm going to pack…"she replied shortly, tired of his sweet-talk, and with her back turned, she went on to say, "And I want something understood.
"This is not something I'm going to enjoy. I've killed many shinobi as part of a mission's objective. I'm used to being given orders. Now I'm acting outside of orders, outside of my chief's decisions, and quite frankly, I'm full of doubt. It frightens me. Doubt is a human thing, and I am only a tool, a human shell that happens to be filled with a soul meant to carry out the desires of those above me.
"So I want you to remember one thing: once I'm finished, I will return to this life, I will return to this village and forget ever seeing you here. I never want to smell your presence, see your face, sense your intentions, ever again. Do I make myself clear?"
She didn't wait for the Sound shinobi to answer, because there was nothing to debate or discuss. These were her only demands, perhaps the only demands she would ever make in her life.
Chihiko slowly, resolutely, made her way down the stairs, unaware that behind her, the man in the purple Jounin vest was smiling horribly, his teeth gleaming like high-polished chrome.
