Lines in the Sand
Arc 1 - A Shinobi
Line 6: A Resolution Made
"Yume!" A distressed voice called out from behind me. "Yume, please," he tried again after I ignored him and kept walking. I could hear the anguish in his voice, the grief filled tone that layered it. I could tell what this was doing to him, how the guilt was tearing him apart.
Good.
He caught up and his hand gently gripped my shoulder, briefly stopping me from walking away. "Yume," he said again, "I… I'm sorry. I tried… really. I… I'm just so sorry."
I continued to not acknowledge him as he worked out his apology. Seeing as I wasn't very receptive to him, Dad gave me a troubled look, wrought with indecision on whether to separate us or to let him keep trying.
Mom had a much less difficult time deciding what to do. As afraid of shinobi as she was, her protective streak for me trumped it. You could see the courage building in her as she prepared to deal with Hibiki. However, before she could start her verbal lashing, I tugged on her sleeve and stopped her.
Shaking my head, I gave the two of them a gentle nudge forwards. "I'll be okay," I told them with a reassuring tone, "go home first." They shared an uncertain look with each other before turning to me in unison, ready to argue otherwise, but I just gave them another soft push forwards.
"We're almost home, I'll be safe here." The neighbourhood was quite secure as well, and most of the people here were trustworthy. I've even walked further than this on my own. The only danger was Hibiki, and well, if he wanted to hurt me it didn't matter whether they were around or not.
They understood that as well, but still, they were reluctant. Regardless of the circumstances, they were parents and it was just wrong to leave your child behind with someone she clearly didn't want to be around. While they wavered in indecision, I gave them another prod for them to go ahead. Hesitantly, Dad finally gave me a nod and tugged a very unwilling Mom with him.
I watched their retreating backs until they turned the corner and disappeared out of sight. However, even after they left I didn't turn around to face him. After a minute went by, I could feel Hibiki starting to fret again, agonising over my cold shoulder. I purposely kept giving it to him.
After another minute, he finally gave up and started speaking again. "Yume, I know you're upset, and you should be!" he hastily added the latter part on. "But let me make it up to you, please. I know how much he… look. I'm just so sorry."
"Sorry doesn't bring him back," I said coldly, finally speaking to him.
"I know, but I…. I really tried my best."
"It wasn't good enough was it?"
"I know… But…"
"But what?" I hissed with as much venom as I could muster, "you promised." I turned around to face him at last. I glared up at him with vicious eyes. "You promised me," I repeated spitefully, "you said you would keep us safe. That there was nothing to worry about. Now he's dead."
He wilted under my gaze, shrinking into himself. His hand flinched away from my shoulder like it burned him. His face clearly showed the torment he was inflicting on himself for being unable to save Ryoki. "I—"
"You weren't good enough," I said, cutting him off.
Those words seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back. His eyes dimmed and regret washed over his features. I could see the exact moment his spirit broke, overwhelmed by self-blame.
"I tried," he said one last time, hollowly, defeated, like he didn't even believe his own words anymore.
Unable to keep looking at his pitiful state, I turned around. Not deigning to continue this conversation, I just started walking away. This time he didn't stop me.
When I turned the corner, I didn't head straight home, instead I stopped at the local park just a block away. Finding a spot under the shade of a tree, I hugged my legs close to my chest and rested my head on my knees.
I hate myself.
I knew he didn't deserve that. I knew he tried his best, that he risked his life and almost died trying to protect us. I knew how hard he was taking this and that he was tearing himself apart with guilt at not being able to do what he set out to do.
I knew all that, and yet I twisted a knife into his gut.
Feeling the now familiar burning sensation build behind my eyes, I tucked my head further as my eyes started to water.
I hurt him because I was hurt.
I wanted to relish in someone else's agony, to inflict pain to relieve my own. It didn't work. I just felt even worse.
Even more deformable was the fact that he deserved none of the blame. Sure, he could've been faster, stronger, more capable shinobi. Maybe if he were, then he could've stalled out long enough for the Hyūga jounin to rescue us. However, that was purely a deferral of responsibility.
The onus fell not on him who performed the best to his ability, but on other people.
It was on the enemy shinobi who actually did the deed. On the bandits who served as a distraction and split our protection detail. The people in management who, not only heavily understaffed this expedition, but negligently enabled people who weren't ready yet to do what is required of them.
The fault lay with them.
Them, and me.
My tears trickled faster and I started sobbing. It earned a few curious glances from onlookers and familiar neighbours, but I asked anyone who came up to me to let me be.
I could blame other people all I want, shift the liability and accuse other parties of being the most responsible. But all I was doing was trying to absolve myself of the guilt. Because the truth of the matter was that it was my actions that led to his death.
I was the one who requested to meet up with Hibiki, bringing us away from the rest of the caravan. I was the one who asked to be shown kenjutsu, leading us deeper into the woods. I was the one who, after realising we were potentially in danger, didn't place more urgency in getting somewhere safe and immediately leave. And it was I who put myself in the position where Ryoki had to trade his life to save mine.
There were so many opportunities, so many other choices I could've made that would've led to him still being here. So many other decisions I could've made, but didn't.
I should apologise to Hibiki later.
But not right now. Right now I just want to cry.
Lines in the Sand
I woke up to the sound of chirping birds, and almost immediately, I pulled the duvet over my head to drown them out. However, almost as if getting me out of bed were their entire purpose in life, they seemingly got even louder. After a few fruitless minutes of stubbornly trying to go back to sleep despite their incessant warbling, I finally gave up.
Fine. You win birds, you win.
I lazily rolled out of my futon and onto the tatami mats, careful not to go too far and crash into Nagi's crib. Our four and a half tatami room made for a cramped living space now that there were two of us sharing it. For a few minutes, I enjoyed the way the colder floor felt on my back, and it provided me with the extra motivation I needed to get up for the day.
After I finished folding and storing my futon, I gave the sleeping Yanagi a gentle kiss on her forehead and turned to leave the room. However, as my fingers lingered on the sliding door handle, my eyes drifted to the spot in the corner where the Go board rested.
I felt a familiar pang of hurt enter my heart, and I hastily slid the door open to leave before it really made itself known. However, my feet never left the room. I hovered hesitantly by the doorway for a few seconds before heaving out a heavy sigh and closed it again.
Slowly, I made my way over to the Go board and pulled it out along with the accompanying Go stones. It wasn't my Go set, the one he got me on my birthday. This was his, given to me as per his will. I kept it in my room, but I didn't have the heart to touch the game ever since his passing, it was simply too intertwined with my memories of him.
Closing my eyes, I traced the lines on the board. Even now, so many weeks later, it still hurt whenever the thought of him came up. And like clockwork, it always came up. However, I couldn't keep going like this, it's been long enough.
It was time I stopped running away.
I took out the stones and started replaying the last game we had ever played together, a game we never finished before we needed to start packing. It was our intention to finish it when we returned to Konoha, but I guess we never will.
All my life, in both my lives, I would always take the safe route. I would always err on the side of caution, the way that would minimise losses. It was simply how my personality rolled. I accumulated my advantages over time, slow and steady. It reflected in every action I took, in everything I'd say, and it worked out well for me.
Sure, perhaps sometimes I would miss quite a few great opportunities this way, but if things were to ever not work out, I wouldn't be hurt as much. That was the crux of it. I don't want to take the chance and get hurt, to lose everything. It was low risk low reward.
I placed the last stone we managed to play onto the board; his last move ever. It was placed deep into my moyo, my potential territory, but not too deep. It was right on the line between being an invasion and a reduction. It was a probing move, it asked me what my intentions were.
Are you going to let me reduce your territory? Or are you going to try and kill it.
If I let him reduce me, then I'd be limiting the damage to my territory. I'd probably end up a little behind because I wouldn't be able to make as many points as I needed from this area, but I could always try and make points elsewhere on the board. It meant that although disadvantaged, the game would still be close and heavily contested. I'd live to fight another day.
However, if I were to try and kill it, then I'd be risking everything. If his group were to live in the middle of my territory, then regardless of what I did on the rest of the board, the game would be over. I simply would never have enough points no matter what I did. However, if I killed it, then I'd win because he let me get away with too much.
I placed my stone diagonally underneath his. It was the natural response. Unless I saw a clear path forwards or that it was an obvious overextension I could punish, almost always my answer would be to play it safe and minimise my losses.
But, sometimes, that was not enough.
Sometimes, there were no other points to pick up around the board. Sometimes, you think you're playing it safe, but all you're doing is giving up your only opportunity to win. Sometimes, by avoiding difficulty, you condemn yourself into slowly bleeding out and an inevitable loss.
Sometimes, the only way to get what you want is to risk it all.
I slid my stone up above his to cap it.
Lines in the Sand
After dinner, during when we would normally do things as a family and enjoy ourselves, I sat myself across from them in a formal seiza. Dad was snacking on mochi while playing with Nagi, and Mom was peeling an apple for dessert. The atmosphere in the room was a little tense because they could tell something was up.
Originally, I'd intended to wait for a time when the mood in the room was more favourable; however, no better opportunities had presented themselves in the last few days. It'd gotten to the point where it was becoming a heavy shadow hanging over our heads. It was clear now I was just delaying the inevitable, and I needed to have this conversation.
"I want to be shinobi."
The moment the words left my mouth, Mom's smile turned chilly. "No," she said sternly and resolutely as she continued peeling her apple. Dad was not nearly as composed and he started choking on his mochi, having to take a large swig of water to wash it down. The fact that Mom didn't help him really spoke volumes as to how deeply upset my words made her.
Nagi, oddly perceptive to her surroundings, started wailing. Once dad recovered from his mochi incident, he picked her up and mumbled, "I'll take her upstairs and put her to sleep." I didn't know how much of that stemmed from wanting to take care of Nagi or from wanting to leave the frosty atmosphere.
After they went up the stairs, I tried again. "Please let me be shinobi."
"I said no," she answered vehemently in a cold, icy tone, "and that is final."
"Why?"
She let out a heavy sigh and closed her eyes to compose herself. When she opened them again, she eased up on her frigid look, "You know I love you Yume." She tried to give me a kind smile; however, it looked really strained. "And your dad and I will always support your ambitions. You're so smart, I have no doubt that you'll succeed at whatever you choose. You can do anything, be anything." Then her smile dropped. "Just not shinobi."
"How come you're so against me being a shinobi?"
"Because that's not who you are!" she blurted out, finally breaking her calm facade. "That's just not who you are," she repeated in a calmer tone. However, the way her voice hitched and the fact that she accidentally stabbed her knife deep into the apple betrayed the turmoil she felt inside.
"I know what you're like Yume," she said, trying to calm herself back down and failing. "I'm your mom, I'm always watching. I can tell, you're kind, you're compassionate. It shows in the way you interact with Nagi, with us, with everyone.
"You're always thinking about the consequences of your actions, your words, and how it affects them. That's not something children do, that's not even something most adults do. It shows how gentle you are, how caring.
"That's the type of person you are. You're not… You're not," her voice started wavering and breaking, "You're not some murderer! A… a killer who trades the lives of real, breathing, feeling people for money!" She was full blown bawling her eyes out now. I crawled over to try and comfort her. When she felt my tiny arms reach out to her, she embraced me in a tight, vigorous hug. "That's just… That's not… It's not who you are."
I could feel my eyes getting wet as well. I knew that this was going to be a difficult and ugly conversation. But I wasn't expecting this. She was so distraught, so uncomposed. Even when we were so very close to dying that time Konoha was invaded, she'd kept her poise well.
And yet here she was, completely overwhelmed by her emotions to the point she was having trouble forming coherent words. I squeezed her a little tighter. To my surprise, another pair of arms wrapped around the two of us. Dad had returned sometime during her tirade.
A few minutes later, as her sobbing started to wind down, Dad finally spoke on the issue. "Yume, why do you want to be a shinobi?" he asked, "I thought you wanted to be an academic. What changed?"
I unburied myself from the dog pile a little so that I could speak, "I still do," I admitted, "I enjoy learning. I want to better understand why the way things are the way they are. I'm curious, that hasn't changed."
"Then why don't you just do that?"
"Because the world won't let me," I said as I finally separated myself from the group Hug. Mom has calmed down considerably now; still in tears, but closer to sniffles than full blown sobbing. When I vacated from my position, Dad gathered her into his arms and rubbed comforting circles on her back.
"Everything revolves around shinobi," I continued after I returned to sitting in a seiza across from them. "They run the world because of how powerful they are, and we are the ones that have to deal with the consequences. We are the ones that suffer from the spillover effects of their conflicts and their wars. We're completely at their mercy; we live and die by their whims."
He gave me a sympathetic look and reached out to pet my head. "I understand your frustrations Yume, sometimes I feel the same way. That we are utterly helpless, powerless, inconsequential. Just a pawn in their little games and their constant jostling for power. But they depend on us too.
"I know it doesn't seem that way, I know how one-sided our association appears to be. However, we run the economy, we sustain almost all the industries and agriculture they rely upon for their feuds. We are the driving forces behind their actions. They fight because of us.
"It's a symbiotic relationship. It's not as simple as us living under their rule and doing their bidding. We are the engine they protect." He smiled reassuringly and rubbed my cheek a little. "Let the shinobi deal with the other shinobi. We have the best shinobi here in Konoha, they can keep us safe."
"I know," I agreed, not refuting the ideas he brought up. They were all solid, valid points. The exact same ones I had when I debated in my mind ad nauseam. "I recognise all that. But, on that day…" I hugged myself and shivered, prompting him to draw me back into their hug. "On that day," I repeated in a shaky voice, "the only thing I could do was watch. Watch everyone get taken out. Watch Oji-chan sacrifice himself to save me. Watch… and hold… as his life left him."
I felt my tears returning. "I never want to go through that ever again."
"I'm so sorry you had to go through that Yume," he said in a soft and regretful voice as he continued to comfort me. "But you have to know it's not that straightforward. As much as I wish it were, you don't just become shinobi and then everything will be alright."
"I know that."
"Do you really Yume? Do you understand what training to become shinobi means? What being a shinobi means? They don't just become that strong simply because they're shinobi. They spend nearly every hour of every day training to get to that point. Even after they get the hitai-ate, they maintain that level of devotion — no, if anything, it becomes more intense. Being a shinobi isn't a job, it's a lifestyle.
"And that's just the training, the easy part. I hate to remind you of that day Yume, but, you remember that fear of facing that shinobi? How scary and frightening it was? You will have to go on missions where you will need to fight dangerous people like that, all the time.
"As awful as it is, there's even more. You don't just have to battle shinobi like that, you become like them. You will have to kill…" he paused in his rant, a bitter expression making its way onto his face. For the first time, he was starting to show emotion other than sadness, sympathy and regret. He worked his jaw distastefully as he fought to get the next words out of his mouth. "Is that what you want Yume? To become a trained killer? To live a life where you murder on orders?"
"No, I don't," I answered truthfully, "I don't want a life as a mercenary."
"Then?"
"I want a life where I can protect the people I love. And if that is what it takes, then that is what I will be."
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. For the next several minutes, we simply stayed like that, a dog pile where we licked each other's wounds. Finally, he broke the silence.
"Okay then."
Mom shot out of his arms like she was stung. "Honey! You couldn't possibly be serious!"
He worked his jaw again, swallowing a bitter smile before pulling her back into a hug. Mom fought it for a bit, still upset, but eventually she relented and let herself be momentarily cordoned. "Yume, your mom and I need to speak alone for a few minutes. Could you wait for us in your room?"
Understanding they needed some time to discuss amongst themselves this bear trap I laid on them, I answered an affirmative and climbed up the stairs. As I left, I could hear angry hushed whispering from a very furious Mom while he tried his best to placate her.
Given her experience with shinobi, I had been expecting a lot of opposition from her; however, that did not mean I was prepared for just how vehement nor distraught she became. It was like she took it personally. It hurt to see how painful she became over the idea of me becoming shinobi. But in a strange way, it was also heartening to see how much she cared for my wellbeing.
Perhaps just as surprising was how calmly Dad handled it. Although it was apparent he was still very much against the idea, it appeared he was willing to accept it as long as I properly understood the decision I was making and its consequences. I could only hope he would be able to convince Mom to do the same.
Aside from the extremity of their reactions, I knew this was going to be a difficult decision for them to accept. I understood full well their stance on the issue and why they were so reluctant about the idea. A few years ago, I would've been in exactly their position. In fact, even now I am not particularly enthused by the idea. However, it was becoming more and more evident that this is the only path forwards.
The reason I'd given them was a big part of why I felt the way I did. I really was doing this to protect them, to protect Yanagi. And another was because it will be my best opportunity to learn more about chakra.
So far, this world's physics behaved largely like what I was familiar with. Any abnormality or deviation appeared to be a direct result of the influence of chakra. The mysterious energy-like substance could seemingly manipulate and bend the boundaries of what I'd thought possible. If the pattern holds up, then it was also looking more and more like the culprit behind how I came to be here in the first place.
Sure, I could probably figure things without becoming a shinobi. However, it'd be immensely more difficult. Knowledge on the subject was locked behind a clearance level. I would have no guidance from someone more well versed on the topic. It'd also be difficult to consult with colleagues or experts as almost everyone with knowledge on chakra were shinobi. My only source of information would be through my own experimentation.
Aside from the aforementioned two, I had one final reason for the decision. It was by far the least important of the three, but right now, it was probably the desire that was fueling me the most. It was what pushed me over the edge of inaction.
Memories of the trip and Ryoki's passing resurfaced in my mind. His last moments, his parting words. The promise—
"Yume! You can come back down now!" Dad called from downstairs, interrupting my musings. I wiped my eyes free of any evidence that I'd been crying and made my way back down to them. They looked very much the same as I'd left them. Dad supporting and comforting a very distressed Mom.
As I sat back down in front of them, Dad asked me, "I just want to ask again, are you sure this is what you want Yume?"
"Yes."
Mom slowly detached from Dad and encased me in a hug. He joined us a moment later. "I hate this," she said sadly, "I still disagree with your decision but…" She hugged me tighter, cradling me into the nook in her neck. "But your dad is right. No matter what happens, you'll always be our Yume. Whatever the future holds, regardless of how we, how you, change, we'll always support you."
"Thanks Mom, thanks Dad. I'm sorry for causing trouble."
"Silly girl," she whispered lovingly and then gave me a kiss on the forehead. "You have nothing to apologise for."
I did, but they didn't have to know why, so I didn't argue it further. Instead, I just snuggled myself into their arms and made myself more comfortable.
I had a third reason why I wanted to become a shinobi.
I wanted fucking revenge.
A/N
This marks the end of the first arc for Lines in the Sand. It was a pretty small arc, but ultimately a very important one as it sets the stage for everything that is to come.
I wanted to avoid writing long A/N's and let my story speak for itself, but, seeing as this is the end of an arc I'm going to break my rule a little bit.
Perhaps this is premature since it is only beginning; however, I really want to thank everyone who's made it this far in reading my story. It has honestly been really reassuring and genuinely nice to know that there are people enjoying my writing!
Originally, when I committed myself to publishing whatever story I came up with in the new year, I thought my audience would be a dozen or two at best; so imagine my surprise when I went to go publish a chapter and I realised there were more than that.
Hopefully, for whatever reason you clicked on my story and continued onto this point, I can continue to keep delivering on. It'd be great to hear from you; what you've been enjoying, what I could improve on, what you'd to see more of.
Thank you once again, and until next time!
— Muffies
Next arc: Expanding Horizons
