Chapter Ten: A Ryo for Your Thoughts
Sometimes, one unintentionally tears their life apart with a single decision, and there is no way to mend the pieces. Then the same happens to their heart. It shatters into millions of fragments, many microscopic and never to be found again. How was one to line them back up?
Though his heart was still in tact, Sasuke pondered this, for there was the possibility that time would be the sole matter. Two months, and nearly two or three weeks, and his wife would return and make the decision that would either embrace him in warmth or sentence the cracked glass of his heart into the tundra.
His son was a terrible ninja that could hardly remember the names of hand seals, much less throw a projectile weapon properly; the same would possibly true if his very life depended on it. His daughter was filled with the furious flames of the betrayed, and would not even call him "father" or "dad."
And then there was "the other man." Sai. So many ways he could be taken care of, each more tantalizing than the previous thought; but he was much smarter than that. Such acts would only separate him from his family once more, and further tear his life to shreds. At least now he had a chance sewing it back up before the cloth was cast away with the ashes; he simply needed to discern how to work the needles.
As a father to his children, he had failed. To his wife, he had had failed as a husband and as a friend. Because he had not been there to protect them, provide for them; hold Krystal's hand as she gave birth to Hatsumomo, teach him some of the rites of passage of the Uchiha, hold him as a baby; witness Ao's rise in the shinobi world, congratulate her on her first ANBU mission, watch as she donned her flak jacket for the first time, teach her about the sharingan prowess. . . . Because he had not been there to help her back onto her feet after she failed her first mission or an innocent someone's life was lost at her hands.
No, he had not failed solely as a husband, father, and friend. He had failed as a man.
The muscles of Sasuke's bare arms were tight, same as were they in the meeting of his shoulder blades beneath a sleeveless black turtleneck. Traces of emotion were visible still, but the canvas of his physiognomy was as blank as he could make it; irritation speckled his brow.
"Serpent . . . ram . . . monkey . . . b-boar . . . horse . . . um . . . um. . . ." Hatsumomo murmured the names of the hand seals he performed, aware of the eyes watching him. Sweat matted his bleach-blonde hair as he tried to remember the last seal. Furrowing his brow, he glanced at Sasuke.
"This one should be the easiest to remember, all fire jutsu have tiger, the sign of flames!" he said impatiently.
The young blonde blushed and grinned sheepishly, "Oh yeah! I-I knowed that, believe it! I was . . . testing you!" He faced the body of water in front of the wooden pier on which he stood and performed the final seal. "Tiger!" He lowered his hands and inhaled deeply. Fire Style: Great Fireball Jutsu!
He leaned forward and exhaled, but the result was anti-climactic. Unlike his father, or his sister, his fireball was anything but great; a pack of embers was released in front of him. His face fell as they turned to ashes even before falling into the lake.
A knot tied in his stomach. I couldn't do it . . . again. Apprehensively, he looked at Sasuke once more.
There were no obvious signs in the man's eyes that the irritation had grown, but the six-year-old could clearly see the disappointment. Breathing heavily, as he had been attempting this jutsu for a long while that day, he lowered his eyes, not wanting to bear sight to that look.
"We're done for today," said Sasuke, keeping his voice even. "Go get ready for supper, it should be done soon."
Hatsumomo nodded and walked down the length of the pier, head hung low. His eyes were shining with collecting tears unshed and his mouth was in a frown. I couldn't even 'member the seals. . . .
The ashes of Hatsumomo's unsuccessful jutsu continued to sink to the bottom of the lake, dissolving from one another. Sasuke continued to stare forward. He was not expecting a prodigy. He was not expecting him to be able to produce a fireball as substantial as his own. For it to be but embers, however, was proof more about how much he had failed.
These were the first steps to be taken in sewing his life together.
Ao could not bring her eyes to gaze higher, instead staring at the desk belonging to the Sixth Hokage Uzumaki Naruto. A slew of papers was scattered messily on its surface in a non-uniform manner, and the Hokage's hands held a mission report.
Beneath a large bandage on the "prodigy's" right cheek the colors of shame mirrored that of her left. Her hand corresponding to the latter was dressed in gauze, too were her legs beneath her knees.
Shouta stood on her right, light cuts and puncture wounds evident where bandages and gauze did not cover; sites aside from his chest, forearms, and right leg. His expression was much lighter, casual as he watched Naruto read over the report.
Next to him Oto's head was bowed, allowing his bangs to nearly mask shut eyes. His entire right arm was bandaged beneath his sleeve, and bandages around his neck suggested they wrapped around his torso, as well. The shade of his skin toughened the task of searching for crimson pigment; however his body language suggested restlessness or discontent.
Naruto's eyes became saucer-wide and tore from the paper. "What?! You let the Daimyo's daughter get kidnapped!?"
"We got her back!" Sakura defended from beside Ao; she was unwounded. "I know what it sounds like, but we got her to the Winter Festival in the Village Hidden in Its Beauty safely and then escorted her home. And in reality, she was never in any danger, because that wasn't the intent of the kidnappers."
His eyes narrowed and he questioned with a quirked brow, "What do you mean?"
The pink-haired jonin regarded the female of her students. "I let my students go ahead of me as I tried to find out some things about the kidnappers, when they engaged in combat with them. Ao separated herself from Shouta and Oto, fighting a woman by the name of Kanae. From her, we learned the identity of the kidnappers and the reason. Ao?"
She reacted, but did not lift her gaze. "The village that kidnapped her was the Creek, a small one with a very small population and even smaller ninja army. Leading that village is an eleven-year-old boy named Yuri, who . . . had a crush on Chiyo-sama and ordered his ninja to kidnap her so he could marry her."
"Eleven? How did he get them to follow orders like that? Challenging the Fire Nation, a small village like that . . . it's suicide!"
"According to Kanae, it's suicide not to follow orders, there; he's pretty merciless, for an eleven-year-old. He came into power by killing his parents with this technique that stole their souls and trapped them within a necklace of prayer beads. By drawing a three-pronged seal on the foreheads of his ninja, he developed something like the Hyuuga Curse, only when it's activated, instead of killing brain cells it steals their soul. He scared his ninja into doing what he wants. Apparently, he could also use the spirits he collected to fight for him, as well. . . .
"As a leader he makes rash decisions but masks them by appearing stoic and mature. His people were leading peaceful lives, but some ninja feared that those would soon be over if he kept making decisions like the one to kidnap Chiyo-sama instead of asking her parents for her hand. Kanae, who as it turns out was Yuri's older sister and the true heiress, didn't want to create unnecessary trouble with a Great Shinobi nation, and was angry that he was 'jeopardizing the lives of his people over some stupid crush,' so she helped us to get Chiyo-sama back."
Sakura continued on. "We tried to take her back by force, but it did no good . . . in the end, Chiyo-sama had to convince Yuri that letting her go was the right thing."
The clang of metal resonated from below as Kanae and Team Sakura fought ghostly entities. Ao, Oto, and Shouta performed poorly, injured from their previous battles. For the most part, they had to defend and elude, for the spirits could not be damaged.
Watching from a fenced level above, Chiyo leaned over the bar, viewing the battled with worried citrus eyes and a furrowed brow. Yuri was at her side, exhibiting more emotion than she had seen from him since she met him. Those ephemeral lilac irises were mere points surrounded by sclera as he gripped the bar tightly. His knuckles were becoming whiter, if possible, and he seemed to tremble with great anger.
"Kanae, you traitor!" yelled the boy. "My own sister!"
The woman glanced up at him with the same eyes as his and clicked her tongue. "After you killed Mom and Dad, any sibling bond I had with you was tarnished. You know that it was the decision of an unfit leader to kidnap a young girl!"
"No!" he shouted. "No! No! No, it wasn't! I love her! I don't want her to go!" Shutting his eyes, he pried his right hand from the bar and formed the seal. "Anyone against me has to die!"
The three-pronged seal on Kanae's forehead glowed with a pastel blue light, and she collapsed. Chiyo gasped as the woman's soul rose from her body and ascended into Yuri's prayer beads. He was mad, appearing on the verge of insanity.
Chiyo looked from him to Kanae's corpse and back. Her mouth hung open as she straightened and took a step away, but only one. At the same time in which he was frightening her and she wanted to run away, something bound her in place and told her to stay.
A cry of anguish came from below, deep in a way that led her to believe it was the blind ninja's. She peeled her eyes away from Yuri momentarily and peered over, seeing Oto as he tried to pick himself up from the floor. Hovering above him was a spirit holding a giant club.
Not far away from him stood Ao, who had activated her sharingan eyes as she tried to elude two ghosts with hefty blades. Her speed was being put to good use, dodging the weapons. In some instances, she barely seemed to move in time, as the spirits' mobility was beyond human means.
She clicked her tongue and looked back at Yuri, whom once again gripped the bar. Within the anger, a great pain marked his countenance. His eyes exhibited a desperation heard also in his voice as he shouted at the invading shinobi. His brow was tight as it was furrowed. His jaw was clenched almost as much as it slacked, holding back the emotions that would tear him down to cry like the young boy he was.
He wrinkled his face more with dissatisfaction and tore the beads over his head, tangling them into a sign that he performed with both of his hands. "You won't give up!" Every bead glowed with that pastel blue light. "Why can't you just leave us alone!?"
Chiyo gasped; she knew naught of his techniques, therefore did not know absolutely that he was doing something great, but she did know how desperate he was becoming, and inferred that he was coming to a last resort.
"Yuri, don't!" She released her qualms and ran the few steps toward him. Her small body collided into him and she threw her arms around him; he was shaken from concentration, and the light dimmed as the frustration dwindled in manifestation.
Within her hold, his muscles loosened, turning his face into one of shock. The wrinkles smoothed from his jaw, his eyes, and brow. He was trying to find the voice to say her name as he undid the seal; the bead's tangles loosened, falling from his hands.
"Yuri . . . I have to go," she said.
Upon that, he blinked and uttered, "But—"
"Yuri please, hear me out!" she begged, holding him tighter. Against the head of his spine, her forehead was a bright red that bleed across the entire canvas of her visage. When he said nothing, she continued, "I'm sorry . . . but this isn't how it's supposed to go. I'm not even old enough to be married off, yet; if you weren't village leader, then you really wouldn't be, either.
"If you let me go, I'll talk to Daddy, and maybe . . . maybe I can get him to think about you. I think you really, really do care about me, even though you kidnapped me instead of asking my dad for me. . . .But for now, I have to go back. Keeping me here isn't the way to do it."
The young boy's face twisted despondently."But. . . ."
She squeezed him around his waist. "Please. . . ."
He closed his mouth. ". . . ."
On ground level, the prayer beads clacked across the tile, piling onto one another like a rope. All of the ghosts froze in place, immobile since the medium they would be controlled with was not in the hands of their manipulator. Team Sakura all looked up (excluding Oto) at Yuri and Chiyo as the young boy turned and hugged his crush, gently resting his chin on her head.
". . . Please come back, soon. . . ."
"There were no fatalities on our side, thankfully, but once the Daimyo discovered that Chiyo-sama was kidnapped he refused to pay mission fees," Sakura finished. "The mission was completed, but not viewed as 'accomplished.'"
Naruto verified his understanding, however snapped, "The mission got done and his brat was returned safely, just because there was a hitch doesn't mean it wasn't accomplished!" He stood and turned toward the door. "He might be the Daimyo, but that doesn't mean he can skimp on our fees!"
Sakura frowned, planting her hands on her hips. "Sit down, knucklehead! You've got paperwork, don't you?" Naruto grinned sheepishly, remembering. "Is Lee in the village? I can find him and we'll go to collect." She looked at Ao, Oto, and Shouta. "My students are on food pill-energy right now, and should let their injuries heal before the next mission."
Naruto agreed, begrudgingly sitting in his seat, and dismissed her. He then regarded the chuunin, becoming a smidgen more serious than he had been with Sakura. "You three can rest a few days. Then after that, you'll be suspended from missions for awhile. Everything turned out alright in the end, but if that kid's motives had been any different, this mission would've been a complete failure."
The boys nodded earnestly whereas Ao clenched her fists, an action noticed by Shouta. He glanced at her face, seeing that she glared toward the floor; the shame was more prominent. Turning his own stare to the space between him and the Hokage's desk, his expression was a bit lighter.
"You guys can go," the blonde finally said, dismissing them. "Except Ao."
Shouta leaned up against the wall of the Hokage Building, watching the door with concern. As he waited, he averted his eyes momentarily and took out a sweetened tart that he popped into his mouth and chewed. I am never taking Sakura-sensei's food pills again, he shivered.
Moments later, Ao burst through the door, startling Shouta to step away from the wall. He called her name and followed her expedited succession of steps. She ignored him, continuing on, hands clenched tightly at her sides.
"Ao-chan!" The brunette followed, jogging a few steps to catch up and grabbed her arm in an attempt to stop her; the young girl may have been smaller in comparison to him, but it became evident that she had more strength. His hold hindered her for only a moment before she pressed on her weight to make him lurch forward and stumble.
"Ah—! Hey, what did the Hokage say to you?" he asked. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing! It shouldn't matter to you," she responded. "Don't know why you waited for me, and frankly don't care. Go—gamble for candy money or something."
He snorted as she continued to pull him along. "So you actually remember my likes. C'mon, Ao-chan . . . a ryo for your thoughts, five for your kiss, ten if you tell me you love me?"
The kunoichi stopped, causing the male nin to collide into her back. She leaned her head back and twisted her neck, looking at him reproachfully, which brought him to smile. That caught her attention. "You can talk to me."
". . . ." Her eyes continued to stare into his, considering. They were then lowered, looking around. The area just outside the Leaf Center was empty, mostly, as twilight set in. After a moment of more quiet consideration, she took a few steps forward and peeled Shouta's hand from her arm. About-face to him, she hung her head.
"I deserved the demotion," she said. "I've made a lot of mistakes as a chuunin, particularly in this short time. I've even been wondering if I should just start over—not Academy student, hell no—but maybe genin. And on that last mission, my skills as a shinobi were something to bat an eyelash at. . . ."
The image of her body submerged in the dirt but for her head crossed her mind. Her sharingan eyes burning a hole into the face of the woman standing before her: Kanae. Twisting, and turning, trying to liberate herself, when the woman crouched down in front of her.
Ao swallowed. "My emotions were in the way enough that I allowed Chiyo-sama to be kidnapped. How could I. . . ." Her fists clenched. "Did I even deserve to be promoted in the first place?"
Shouta viewed her with widened eyes and blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Whoa . . . you actually sound so humble . . . wasn't expecting that." He noticed Ao react a little. "Listen . . . you're problem is too much 'I' and not enough 'we.' We're all on teams for a reason, you know; you aren't the only one that messed up. Besides, hypothetically if you were the only one to've messed up, then we should've picked up your slack."
Ao clicked her tongue and twisted half-way toward him.
He chuckled. Humbling moment over already? "It's not good for a shinobi to be too dependent . . . but you're too independent. Anybody can see that about you from a mile away. Well, 'cept Bau." He snickered, looking at her.
She was not amused.
He awkwardly performed a fake cough into his hand, gathering his thoughts. "Any-who . . . you were demoted, so that probably shook you up a bit and made you begin to doubt your abilities, or maybe in your mind you were trying to overcompensate, and since you were trying so hard to prove yourself, you just messed up. It happens.
"Going from working with adults to teens around your age was a big change, too. We weren't even together a full day before being sent on a mission. Teams that aren't used to each other, and don't work well together, don't perform well. It was too soon for us as a team."
"That's a lie!" she snapped. "It's not impossible to accomplish a mission with ninja you've never worked with before. I've done it tons of times. Why are you trying to make excuses for me? They don't change what happened—," she looked away, "—or make them right." She looked back. "Petty excuses not to feel bad. . . ."
The half-smile he wore on his face had driven her to silence. "They're reasons. It's up to you if they're excuses. What about in your home life?"
She blinked. ". . . What?"
"Any big changes there?"
She frowned and blushed. "None of your business." Sasuke coming back. . . .
That half-smile remained as he looked away and scratched the back of his head. He almost appeared as if he were a smidgen hurt. "Hmm. . . . Guess that was prying, huh?"
Ao almost felt a minuscule remorse, yet contained her hard stare. "Yes . . . you're too laid back."
Averting his eyes still, he took a few steps forward and shrugged a shoulder. "Never said I was a Gary-Stu. As shinobi, we're supposed to suppress our emotions anyway, so if making excuses will help rid you of some of the guilt and gloom, shouldn't we use them, if only for ourselves?"
Her eyes softened.
"It's important to know your mistakes, but it's also just as important to move on from them. I don't want this failure to affect the next mission. . . . I feel that I can trust you; you need to realize that you can trust us." There was a pregnant pause in which his eyes met her blank stare.
Shouta smiled. "Hey, Ao-chan."
"Huh?"
The boy closed the gap between tem with a few paces, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, bringing his mouth near her ear. "I haven't known you for long, but I think you'd be a great teammate, if you'd think less of 'I' and more of 'we.' I kinda like you."
The girl's arms hung rigidly at her sides, a stiffness felt all throughout her body. Her face burned brightly, evident as her head angled back so the slope of her neck fit against his shoulder. She stared skyward to the setting sun with wide eyes and an open jaw. ". . . ." Words failed to come, during her first non-familial embrace, so she closed her mouth, and narrowed her eyes gently.
The words engraved within the silver band read, "Never Severed," and a decent-sized ruby had been shaped into something like an ellipse. It was held in a hand adorned in a black glove between pointer finger and thumb. The wearer also bore a long-sleeved mint green turtleneck, thick black cloak, and black capris tucked into knee high zori.
Long, ebony locks curled into cheeks made rosy by the crisp winter weather. Rosette lips formed a soft and sad smile. "'Our bond will never be severed,' huh? Is that why even though you're gone, I can't let you go?" Krystal murmured.
She stood on the edge of the balcony outside her room in snow-laden Britain, left with her thoughts for far too long. It was a starless night; therefore the sole light came through the open doors of her room. The balcony overlooked the garden; however none of the lampposts were lit.
The woman took the ring in her right hand and began to peel off the glove of her left. Soon the wedding band was placed on the finger between her pinky and middle. How come it still feels so natural to be wearing this? Like . . . like I still feel he'll somehow come back.
She shook her head and took that hand beneath her coat, touching those necklaces. While she had been able to cease wearing the ring for a few years, the necklaces she could not let go. Perhaps it was due to the simple fact that those ties aged back to early childhood. So vividly she could remember the merriment in her heart when she had discovered Sasuke kept his; also the despair when it was one of the items discovered astray in the event of his death.
Actually, it may have been the dark residue within his, the piece of him that seemed to be the sole remainder; his blood that somehow preserved itself in that stone. No longer was it warm, and it was a very tiny, almost insignificant amount of him. Nevertheless to her, it was a priceless token she would forever keep.
A snowflake descended from the sky, joining a collection of them on the balcony's fencing. More followed, some disappearing into Krystal's hair as her body heat melted it. She lifted her head, feeling a few microscopic crystals kiss her cheeks and forehead.
A familiar feeling overcame her, one of phantom accompaniment that cast eerie, yet welcome, warmth across her shoulders. She knew that warmth was false, that the gentle kisses were not cusps of a lover's visage, that the arm around her shoulder was simply that frozen, falling powder thickening and becoming heavy; yet all the same she was feeling comforted, like his will was carried through the precipitation. Though the snow was white, pure; it was cold, but when she was conditioned to it, when the initial icy bite passed, it felt quite nice.
Much like Sasuke himself; though dubbing him "pure" was a stretch.
Silently she allowed herself to indulge, closing her eyes. Flakes were brushed from her brow, caught in her eyelashes, causing her face to scrunch. Feeling the collection grown on her face, she lowered it and began to clear away the snow when she felt a sudden déjà vu.
"Uchiha Sasuke." A raindrop descended into the depression of his name in the irregularly shaped stone. Another fell, overflowing onto the smooth, black surface; as more rain contacted the stone, it flowed over the rest of the names and pattered onto the cemented circle surrounding the monument.
The training field that included the Hero's Memorial Stone was quickly drenched in the steadily increasing precipitation. Water trickled and clung to the bushes, grass, and three wooden logs standing not far from the monument. A lone woman stood in the April shower.
Long, curved and curling, acherontic locks clung to her cheeks, chin, and neck, ending inches past her shoulders. Awhile had passed since she last cut her bangs, for they cast a shadow over pearlescent Hyuuga eyes. She was dressed to mourn, in a black dress with a small V-neck; over it, she wore a long-sleeved, black hoodie, and black zori covered up to her shins.
Despondently, the widowed Mrs. Uchiha Krystal gazed at the name of her recently deceased husband. Beneath her right palm, their second fetus, subtly presented, was growing within her. She was gently caressing the top of her bump when she squinted her eyes.
A man entered the area. He was of middle age, with light skin and an unusual, spiked, silver hairstyle that leaned to the side. One of his eyes was covered by his leaf headband, like an eye-patch, and his dark blue turtleneck extended high enough to mask the lower half of his face. Dressed in the typical ensemble for a jonin, he was also wet from the rain. It was shown in his visible eye, colored black, that he recognized her.
She did not react when he silently came up on her side. Her only movement was to blink as rain dripped from her bang to her eyelash. It was likely that she had not noted his presence. For a moment, he watched her, and then turned his attention to the stone. Silence was complete but for rain and the disturbance of leaves as a breeze ensued. Krystal shivered.
Remaining as casual as the circumstances would allow, the man had his hands in his pockets, and turned toward her, partially. "Should you be out in this weather? In your current . . . ," he looked at her bump and gestated for a word, ". . . state?"
The widow lifted her head, realizing she was no longer alone, and parted her lips, as if to speak. She blinked as more rain clung to her lashes. It seemed that she did not have to look at him directly to realize his identity. "Kakashi . . . sensei. . . ."
Suddenly, she reached up and began wiping tears from her eyes, as if just realizing they were present. Her eyes were red and swollen, and her former teacher looked at her in pity. Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder.
Hands, one bare but for her wedding ring, and the other clad in the glove, still just in front of her face, she opened her eyes blankly. She began to stare at the ring, and realized just how harmful it was that she had been left to her thoughts for so long. She could not regress to that stage; no matter how much she longed for him, he was gone . . . forever.
Sadly and solemnly, she slipped the ring off of her hand and put it away. With mild reluctance, she produced Sai's engagement ring and stared at it. Slowly, she eased it into place on her finger. It did not feel completely alien, but not as natural as it did Sasuke's.
Maybe if I wore if for a bit, she thought. But for now . . . I should probably find Maboroshi-sama.
Precipitation also fell from the sky over Konoha, but it was not cold enough to freeze the descending water droplets to snow or hail, remaining a simple, pouring rain. Sasuke sat on one of the roofs of the Uchiha Estate, allowing the shower to wash over him.
He toyed absently with his wedding band. At the time in which he had received it, he had already worn a piece of feminine jewelry for his wife, so in light of his masculinity, there was no gemstone; solely the engraving of "Never Severed."
When he had amnesia, he had not even this reminder of his being matrimonially bound. Normally he would not wear it on missions so as not to lose it, and because ornaments non-uniform often got in one's way. Home, he had found it on the dresser, in his and Krystal's bedroom.
Just a few months. . . .
Light was breaking through the window of Maboroshi's study, soon angling so it cast directly between the curtains to his lidded eyes. He sat in a red-cushioned, high-backed chair, slumped forward thus the right side of his face laid on the desk.
Long eyelashes fluttered, parting in a squint to show emerald green eyes. Yawning widely, he lifted his head from the surface, moving his arms a little as well; in the process, he knocked over a few stacks of paper. The sheets fluttered down to the floor. A red impression marked his cheek, as he had fallen asleep on a pen.
The British Playboy noticed that the fire within its place, sharing a wall with bookcases, was burning low. He stood and ruffled his golden, wheat-brown locks as he scratched the nape of his neck. Lazily, he sauntered over toward the pile of logs near the fireplace, since the chill was returning to the room.
On his way, the sofa in the center of the room, cushioned similarly to his chair, caught his eye. He noticed with amusement that Krystal laid there, a few papers on the floor around her. She had interrupted his office work the night before and then helped him to complete it; both had fallen asleep.
He paused for a moment, looking at her. She twisted so her hair appeared tousled away from her, providing a peek at the portion of her neck not covered by her turtleneck and skin of her earlobe and jaw line. One hand rested on her abdomen, whereas the other rested on the top of her head. Her cloak blanketed the lower half of her body.
Smiling to himself, he pulled his eyes away from her bust and went to perform as he had originally intended. It occurred to him that she was one of very few attractive women he had been in the same room with, for a night, that he had not become sexually intimate with.
Oh, I stole that kiss, he remembered. Years ago, the act of desperation before he was to be matrimonially bound, however he never went further. The Miss Hayden Isabella Bos had literally slapped some sense into him regarding the unfair quality of the situation.
Maboroshi's eyes suddenly appeared to glaze over in worry as he thought of the redhead. Word had yet to come in from the party investigating the Rain Country.
A man entered the room with a tired expression, holding a rolled up parchment. He moved toward Maboroshi, his arm raised so the paper rested against his shoulder, and caught sight of Krystal on the couch. He grinned and looked toward his superior.
Took him longer than usual to woo this one, he thought. He then said in a professional tone. "Lord Maboroshi—news from the Rain group. "
His eyes widened both eagerly and at the irony in the timing in which the information had been presented. He took the parchment handed to him in thanks. His underling left without else said.
Maboroshi rolled open the parchment quickly, almost tearing it in the process. His eyes darted across the page; left, right, down, left, right, down, left, right, down—when he reached toward the end, they slowly began to widen, and his mouth opened.
"Hayden. . . . 'My only princess.' . . ."
The last line on the parchment read, "Hayden Isabella Bos is missing; reports say that an English-speaking redhead was captured by the Rain ninja."
End of Chapter Ten
There is no preview for the next chapter because .:Violets are Blue:. is on an indefinite hiatus. I, at the moment, am simply not very interested in writing out the ideas---I have this story very well planned, with twists I am proud of; however no one else seems to be respecting that nor the fact that when it comes to a family, it is no longer all about the parents. I conceded that there was a lot of Ao, Oto, and Shouta action, but rest assured in how well I have this series planned out and that it is all necessary. Now, my hiatuses don't tend to be long, especially when I get feedback, but those have been lacking lately, so who knows? I would very much like to hear from you, my readers, and I am regretful that it has come to this. I hope this chapter was satisfactory. Thank you for reading and I look forward to continuing this story in hopefully the near future. (It seems the centering option does not wish to comply. Sad day.)