Part V | Chapter 2
The monastery's main gate, with its dark wooden pillars, frail and small under the two curved roofs, looked more ominous than before. Even as an eighteen-year-old ANBU, cold, impassive and uncaring, the sight of the monastery and what it meant for him to be there had coated his guts with a thin layer of frost. Now, twelve years later, Kakashi felt all of Snow's ice had pestered his being.
The monastery hit with the same awe, as it broke from the forest around it and hang on the edge of a cliff. Nothing had changed to his sharingan eye, yet its shadow felt darker against the dark green of the cedar trees and the grey paved stones that carved the path.
The quiet and contemplative atmosphere soaked into every crevasse of the place and it pressed into him, sour and uncomfortable. The profound air surrounding the stillness of the building, the peaceful people, and the ancient forest, shook him deep but softly and that had never sat well in him. This isolation was fruitful and foreign, it was everything his was not and it made him feel like scum.
He decided to go directly to Tsukate's personal room, hoping it hadn't changed from the last time he had been there. When he dragged the shoji door open, the room oozed the Kyura's known scent and chakra. He obliviously thanked whatever superior force for it.
Sitting by the window that overlooked the gardens, he opened the dog-eared page of a new classic he had bought, covered in a henge to look like Icha Icha Tactics. Kakashi actually tried to read while waiting for Tsukate, but his mind kept running away from the written words and back to that day twelve years ago. That day that had changed too many lives for the worse.
Kakashi had sat on that same spot in front of the low table, a cup of hot tea prepared before him, from which he never drank. Tsukate had been in front of him, taking quiet sips out of his drink, his shaven head still strange to Kakashi. His kind and caring green eyes the same as during the Third Ninja War, but surrounded by harsher wrinkles marked into the skin of his face.
"You're not a kid anymore, Kakashi." Tsukate had started with a teasing and kind smile.
The last time they had seen each other Kakashi had been fourteen. "And you're an old man. Bald and all."
He had laughed at that and, only now as he remembered, did Kakashi recognise the same glint in him that Gohama had when she laughed.
The good humour had quickly vanished to a both grateful and sad expression that had made even his ANBU hardened heart tremble. "I'm glad you've come alone." His gaze had turned to the garden outside. "I'm sure you can understand how difficult this situation is for me. It's important that I discuss it with someone I trust. And you're the only Konoha high-rank I trust."
He had offered him a small smile, similar to the comforting ones he had had for all the young soldiers in their company during the war.
"Buki isn't going to back down. I accept your proposal in exchange for my full corporation and assistance with one condition." His kind face had gained a harshness Kakashi had never seen on him. "You won't attempt to assassinate the Yukikage."
Kakashi had feared this since the beginning and now it was staring back at him with sorrowful, pained eyes, the harshness hiding the plea that shot out of him.
"Tsukate, we can't negotiate on that."
"No. Listen to me. I need you to listen, as a friend now, please." Against his better judgement, Kakashi had listened. The word friend had always been his weak spot, not even ANBU had taken that away from him. "My brother doesn't want to go to war. I know him and I know that, if it were up to him, he would never take such an action after only five years since the last one. But it isn't up to him. You know how unbearable a Village Council can be, you know how traditional old men and impulsive young kids drown a Kage's voice. If you let him live, he won't continue the negotiations with the Uchiha."
"If it ever comes out that Konoha was behind the attack don't you think the entire Village would force him to take action against us? The death of a Kage would assure the Village is too weakened to counteract. It's not just about his true intentions."
"Kakashi, I know this seems just emotional talk, but Inaku is a good Yukikage because he's a good man, he wants peace above all. Buki is fractured, frustrated and angry, and Inaku also has to maintain the peace within its own walls. Your attack would clear all the displeased warmongers and help him make peace."
His back was straight, his uncovered grey eye stony. "I'm not the one that holds the decision."
"I know, but Konoha listens to your judgement. Just try to…" His words had died in his throat, as his trembling fingers had left the tight hold around the cup and had searched inside his robes. Tsukate had taken out a leather photograph holder.
Four pictures had opened to Kakashi, pictures of real, flesh people he hadn't wanted to see, he hadn't wanted to acknowledge existed behind a code name on a mission form. The first of Tsukate's dead parents. The second of him as a kid with his two older brothers, one dead, the other a walking dead, with an assassination mission stuck to the back of his head. The third of his brother Inaku's family. Kakashi hadn't even known the Yukikage had two children, a boy and a girl, he hadn't needed to know, he ought not to know.
The last photograph had been of Tsukate with Keishi, one of Buki's soldiers from their company. With loving brown eyes and a timid smile, he looked towards Tsukate, who had a grin plastered on his face and looked right into the camera. Both full of happiness, love and life. Keishi was dead. A good man lost to another war. It had taken too much from everyone, too much from the world.
Tsukate's trembling finger had pressed to his brother Inaku's family photo, his voice shaking as he spoke. "This is my niece, Gohama," The little girl smiled as she squeezed her baby brother in a hug and stared straight at Kakashi. Her stilled happiness an accusation. "and my nephew, Yukine. They're older now. Gohama's eight, by next year she'll be a chunin. She has the bloodline limit, Kakashi. They'll make her go to war. If Buki attacks Konoha they'll use her as a killing machine. Not even you were that young…"
"Why are you telling me this?" Kakashi had asked between a growl and a plea.
"My brother will do anything he can to stop his daughter from being nothing but a weapon. If he lives, even if he knows it was Konoha, he'll never wage war."
"She's a shinobi, that's her duty. The Yukikage won't decide based on his daughter."
His green eyes, unyielding and anguished, had snapped back to stare at him. They had almost made Kakashi squirm in his seat. "No, Kakashi, you don't understand. My niece is the weapon, they're making her the next Katsuo. Do you think my brother was that cold-blooded machine out of choice, out of simple duty? They made him that way. Gohama's the same."
His Kyura eyes had changed and Kakashi had felt the mask, always stuck to his face, melt and shed away, as it hadn't since Minato-sensei's death. Just from a look, his carefully constructed barriers had been pierced and it had only made anger bubble in his chest.
"I'm sure you can understand what that asks of people, Copy-nin of Konoha. I'm sure you can understand how much a father wouldn't want that for his child."
"Tsukate," Kakashi had hissed, his own eyes sharp and cold. "Konoha doesn't care about that. Konoha won't add another risk. The operation is already a heavy liability. Your word about the Yukikage's position means nothing when everything he's doing goes against that. In the end, he's the leader of Buki, the one that makes all the decisions, including partaking in a coup d'état against an allied government. I can't help you."
Kakashi had been harsh and Tsukate had let hurt escape through his expression, or maybe had never even tried to hide it. "ANBU isn't for you, Kakashi."
"At least I didn't run away to become a monk after the war."
"ANBU is running away."
"ANBU is where I'm most useful to my Village, but you wouldn't understand that, now would you? I'm sure your niece would love to be the shuriken of Buki, just like Katsuo loved it. Say all you want about your brother, but you know he loved what they made of him."
"My niece won't hate it, but she'll hate herself."
The resignation had hummed low in his tone, as he had lowered his gaze to the leather photograph holder. Tsukate had known the inevitable fate of his family and still he had tried to fight for them.
His expression had been open and pleading as he had looked back up at Kakashi. "I understand that you can't help me, but I ask you for one favour then. Promise me you'll be the one to do it. If you manage it, I know that you'll show Inaku the respect, honour and death he deserves. Promise me, Kakashi."
"I promise."
Kakashi had kept part of the promise. He had killed Kyura Inaku, but there had been no respect and honour in murdering someone in their own home. Those two words that had already seemed heavy now burned inside him with all of what they had meant.
The door to the room slid open and on the other side was Tsukate's smiling older face. "Kakashi, my good friend, good to see you've made yourself comfortable. It scared a few monks to have a shinobi invade their living quarters."
Tsukate didn't let him speak as he started to boil fresh tea, then set two cups on the low table and extended his hand to a seat so that Kakashi would take it. Only after pouring green tea for the both of them and taking the first sips did he talk, straight to the point as he had done the last time.
"I guess these won't be good news." The trepidation rang loud through his tone.
"Gohama knows."
Kakashi explained what had happened on the previous day. After the fight, he had allowed Hyuga to heal him and, after a quick shower at the inn, had left to Snow Country, while Gohama's team went back to Konoha. Hansuke had made them promise not to let Tsunade know of her defection until he 'took care of things'. Only Hansuke would find that level of hope on a ruin as this.
Tsukate's hands trembled around the cup and he spilt some tea onto the table. Without any thought given to it, he moved them to sooth the fabric of his monk robes. He stayed silent for a long time and it only made Kakashi's fear bang against the sides of his ribs.
His gloved hands took his own cup to his masked lips and begged for the warm tea to calm the riots in his stomach and mind. His eye focussed on the spreading pool of liquid against the wooden table, watching it move and rest.
"If you also came here for some miraculous advice that will solve things, I don't have any." Tsukate sighed and pulled a cloth to wipe away the tea. "I honestly don't think there's any saving grace in this, except the truth being finally out."
"Why did you send her to Konoha?"
"Because it was the best for her."
Kakashi's fist tightened against his leg. "It obviously wasn't. You shouldn't have sent her to Konoha of all places. It was a big mistake and now not only is Gohama paying for it, but her team too."
"Her team wasn't the one getting betrayed."
"Do you even have any idea of how it is like to have a teammate defect?" He brushed a hand across his face and hair. "I shouldn't have listened to you. You're a monk, what do you know about life outside these walls? So stupid. I should have made her stay in Suna when the Kazekage tried to recruit her. We memory interrogated her. Did you know that, Tsukate? I watched a memory of you on the floor of this very room dying with a tanto to the stomach. You would let your niece find your dead body? Do you have any idea how that can fuck people up?" It had fucked him up with his father.
Tsukate just stared back at him, as Kakashi ranted. So many fucked up things had happened to Gohama in Konoha and somehow he couldn't let them spill over his lips for Tsukate to know. Kakashi couldn't understand if out of shame or sympathy.
"Her life has been a misery in Konoha." He concluded quietly. "I should have told her the truth a long time ago so she could have defected sooner."
"Do you think her life was better here? In a monastery? She spent every day for seven years training. She did nothing but grieve, be alone and train. In Konoha she had people she cared about. I heard her talk about her team. I heard the fondness in her voice and it had no grief behind it because those people are alive. They are still alive while everyone else is dead. For the first time in years there was something else behind her eyes and her smile. It wasn't a mistake. It was worth it. She has always been set on honouring Buki, being in Konoha probably would never have stopped her, but at least for a few years she had a life of her own that didn't belong to Bukigakure."
"We're shinobi. Our lives belong to our villages."
"You know it's different with Gohama. Even worse than with you. You also know that you're lashing out on me. And you also know my decision was the right one. In the few options for Gohama, sending her to Konoha was the best one. Knowing you were there and looking out for her was enough of a good reason."
"But I wasn't there… there was a time where I—"
"You're here now." He interrupted with a small smile.
He smiled too much and that was good. Kakashi wondered if Gohama would have smiled as much as him, had life been kind to her. Maybe not. Life hadn't been kind to Tsukate and he still smiled.
"All those years. How did you do it, Tsukate? How did you face her…?
"Gohama needed me."
Just as she had said she had needed him after Dazai's mission and yet Kakashi had been too selfish to stay. There was the difference, Tsukate was a good man and he was not.
The hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. Kakashi stared at him with open eyes and he just smiled back, the characteristic comforting smile, but it did little to sooth him this time. He was ready to jump out the window when Tsukate put his hand on his knee. "I need you to stay."
He didn't understand what use Tsukate needed of him now that Gohama was in the monastery.
Gohama opened her heavy eyelids to stare at the cursed seal on her forearm. It still burned, its dark blue with a glimmer of chakra to it, an afterimage of having four tails break loose. Her pathways were the most tattered she had ever felt them, even when trying to collect her chakra to her core, there were still remains scrapping all around her body. She would never have one of Kisamaru's soothing healing sessions again.
The soil under her side and head was cushioned with a thick layer of moss. The oaks of central and southern Fire had given place mostly to maples and cedars. Gohama had run and run towards Snow until she had passed out from exhaustion somewhere near the border, but still in Fire. Or maybe it was Sound. Gohama didn't know. The only thing she knew was that it wasn't Snow. What a reckless thing to do.
Still, she didn't move. Her unseeing gaze stuck to the ten tailed dragon carved into the skin of her arm, carved into every cranny of her body. Gohama was the jinchuriki. The borders between herself and the biju were nothing but thin threads of snowflakes blown away with any small breeze. And yet, she was alone. Her whole life she had lived with a creature inside of her, blended into her, mixed with her, and yet she had always been alone.
Once more, Gohama was back to having no one. At least, for a while she could pretend she was no one too. For a few more moments she could pretend she was nothing as she lay on the floor of Fire's forest, or was it Sound?, too tired to move, too anguished to move. There was freedom in being nothing, a sad and misty type of rest.
Her dry eyes pinned to the seal wedged into her life. As before, the tears were stuck behind her eyes and they wouldn't fall, she thought maybe if she cried herself to exhaustion, the pent up, consuming, overflowing anguish would burst and wash away. It kept growing, and growing, and Gohama felt herself both expanding through the seams, ready to explode, and shrinking into nothing but a tiny dark dot in the world. Whatever it was she just wished it would come and go, not swell, again and again, a vessel of swelling anguishes and nowhere to keep them in and no way for it to burst out.
The piece of truth glowed dark and stabbed inside her chest, full of betrayal and broken trust, full of grief and void. Gohama couldn't even make anger anymore.
What would her lost childhood home think of her if anyone were alive to ask the question? 'What happened to Kyura Gohama?' They would ask. 'Where is the daughter of our Inaku? The hope of our Village?'
'She is nothing but broken shards laying on the ground of Fire.' Or was it Sound?
'Shame.' They would whisper, faces staring down at their feet, with gentle shakes of their heads. 'Everyone had great expectations for her. What a shame…' Then, they would tilt their heads up, a pointed finger waving slightly as they spoke. 'But know that I think of it, there was always something missing with that girl. Still, a shame…'
So many people had died for their jinchuriki. Too many people, because they had believed she held the future of Bukigakure in her too small hands. She owed them and yet she couldn't even kill her parents' murderer when he was under her fingertips, ready to die.
Kakashi's grey eye had always held a flicker of Kunimaru's dark, droopy gaze. When he had asked her to look at him, Gohama had seen Kuni-chan's eyes as he had died from three kunai that had been marked for her. She hadn't had the strength to watch the life fade away from eyes like those again.
Always so weak. Kakashi's genjutsu had showed her the truth about herself, the truth that had been shoved into her after the massacre. Gohama was weak, so weak, not even a biju's chakra could flame her into power. She could blame Konoha and Akatsuki, but she knew. She knew, as she had always secretly known, that she was the guilty one. Everything was her fault. Her own fault.
She stared at her duty and her life written in the blue sealing inside her forearm. A monster. If she couldn't protect, if she couldn't fulfil her duty, then she was nothing but a useless monster, but a monster nonetheless.
She needed to reinforce the seal and learn how to control Seiryu's power. Maybe then, she wouldn't be so weak, a dead weight, shameful, in the glory of Buki's name. Gohama needed to go to Uncle.
But for now all she could do was lay.
The Land of Snow spread before Gohama unchanged. The pines, cedars and birches grew in a waving ocean of leaves, laid out from mount onto mount. Here the green was deeper and richer than in any other land, the trees guarded and thriving from the lively force of kodama spirits.
Gohama dropped from the branches of the massive pine and ran. The colder air of Snow slid through her throat and her lungs, all smoothness and freshness. The wild life around her buzzed and the sounds were familiar, so familiar she had to stop herself and blend into the life of the forest.
How long had it been since she had heard the characteristic hoot of a snowy owl? Or felt the smooth speckled bark of a birch other her fingertips? There had been missions in cold weather places, but never Snow, and Snow tasted different to her. It tasted of home. For four years, Gohama had forgotten the feel of home.
The earth was unchanged. Gohama continued to move north into the ageless land and she thanked the guardian kami she didn't believe in for it.
Hidden between the rocks of a clear stream, a fisherman worked his net, only the sound of splashing water and of his singing gave away his presence. Gohama stopped, her back pressed against a tree as she watched the leaves of cedars above her and heard the melody. His rough and low voice echoed through the stone in long, dragged out waves full of melancholy. His voice cried as he worked, years of life seeping through the low rumbles of his throat.
It was a common traditional song from Snow about a man coming to meet his lover near a fountain and not finding her there. The wind accompanied him, the leaves, shaking with indifference, were as sad as the fisherman. All of Snow's earth and life obliviously cried and the lonely voice of her home held Gohama's guts in a cruel grip.
It was worse, Gohama realised now. The stillness, the sameness, the unchanging face of Snow. It was so much worse. It was a land that had crystallised, it was the petrified image of a scenery and its beauty was rotten now, the kodama spirits had left the forest to drift, unrooted to the earth. Time didn't pass in a land that had no future. Life changed, but death was always the same. All of Snow had died with Bukigakure.
Gohama jumped from the ground to the tree branches. Her eyes unseeing, the images running through their corners nothing but a blur of brown and green. She ran towards the monastery, she didn't stop for sleep and didn't stop to catch her breath and rest her legs and especially she didn't stop to see and didn't stop to think.
When she was ready to collapse again and maybe let the dead forest of Snow take away the life that had always belonged to it, the monastery's indigo roof sneaked out from the green. Her breathing came harsh against her throat and the burning of her muscles finally caught up to her mind. She didn't let it bother her.
With small steps, Gohama followed the familiar path she had crossed so many times before. She stopped before the tori gate, vermillion and striking against the staircase that led up the mountainside. The monastery was a Buddhist one, built halfway towards a Shinto shrine, which had used to house the dragon kami, Kuraokami. Still, Gohama bowed in front of the tori gate and washed her hands on the fountain, its water chilling from a stream that descended through the mountain.
Her eyes followed the stone steps between two curtains of branches and cedars, little specks of light shining on the floor. What a beautiful, familiar sight and yet Gohama's dried heart could feel nothing.
Halfway towards the monastery her muscles trembled and tensed, her senses being washed over by the familiar crackling chakra. Kakashi was also here.
The dot of fear that had taken seed since finding the truth grew and overwhelmed, arms of vines wrapping all around Gohama's chest and mind as she ran towards Uncle's chakra. The monks didn't dare reprimand her disrespect as she disrupted the peaceful air of the monastery with her aura.
In an instant, she was ripping Uncle's shoji door open and pressing her tanto to Kakashi's neck. "I really did scare you, Hatake, for you to have come here." She growled, her hand wrapped around the collar of his flak jacket.
"Gohama, is that how we treat our guests?" Uncle's calm voice sounded the same and felt the same, but that was good.
"He was there. He killed them." This would be the moment of truth. Another truth and Gohama wasn't certain if she could bear it too. Tsukate didn't speak, he didn't move, he didn't react in any way, and Gohama clenched her eyes shut. It was always the silences that told her of what she needed to know. "Please… Please, Uncle…tell me you didn't already know…"
"I knew."
Gohama dropped her head, her jaw clenching with her eyes, as she bit out a quiet "fuck.". Where was her anger? She called for it with her blood. Gohama needed anger or else she would drown. "And you still sent me there?"
"It was and is the best place for you. So you could have a home, Hama-chan."
"Don't." She growled and shook Kakashi in time with her words "Don't fucking call me that. You sent me for a purpose…"
Her head dropped backwards and her stinging eyes focussed on the wooden ceiling, her mouth dragging out a hollow sighed scoff. It was too much again. She shoved Kakashi to the floor and stood up, now finally having the courage to face Uncle.
"I've been thinking about it for 10 years. And you know, there was no way the Leaf could manage to kill the high ranks without an inside help." Her heart clenched and her eyes dripped betrayal as she spoke. "I went through every possible person and the answer was right in front of me all those years. The other sole survivor." Her tone became desperate. "They were your family! How could you…?"
"They were plotting a war. We couldn't live through that again."
"So genocide?"
"The genocide was Akatsuki, Konoha killed the high ranks."
"So your brother and your friends!"
"They would have used you as a cold-blooded killing machine against Konoha, against anyone that stood in their way. The Kyura always did that to their jinchuriki…"
"I don't care. I would bear anything, do anything, become anything, if they were still alive." She shook her head. "How could you face me all those years…"
Tsukate had the audacity of giving her one of his kind quiet smiles. "It was my burden."
Gohama turned away from him, her legs suddenly weak under her. She propped her elbows on the windowsill, her hand grasping her tanto with biting force, as she pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes.
She had asked for it, she had searched and begged the universe for the truth and here it was. She knew it would have hurt, but the destruction it had made in only two days was too much to endure. Gohama felt herself crumble onto herself, the hollowness inside making the outer thin shell crack and shatter.
She had asked for it knowing it would never be easy, but it was just so fucking painful.
"Gohama." She felt uncle rise behind her.
"No. Stay down. Don't even think of getting near me."
Her snowdrop had withered into ash and dirt. All that was left was her weapon and she gasped it in her fingers, tight and desperate and begging.
"I should kill you, Tsukate. You're a traitor to your village, your clan and your family. Your own fucking brother." Gohama finally turned back to stare at Tsukate. Her right arm extending to receive the summoned tachi. "I, as the shuriken of Bukigakure, have the duty to decapitate you for treason against your Yukikage."
Her hand moved until the tip of her sword was pointing onto Tsukate's neck.
In an instant, Kakashi was grasping her wrist in a breaking force. "Did you come here to kill your uncle?" He asked, sharp and threatening. His chakra crackling against her skin and it only made her adrenaline burn back in her veins. She would fight him again if she had to. This time she wouldn't make the mistake of looking into that grey eye of his.
"No." Tsukate watched her with that mellow green gaze he always had for her. "Gohama's here for the seal. Please let go of her wrist, Kakashi." He complied, but didn't step away from her. "I can't help you with that."
"What? I'm asking one thing! One—"
"Because I can't, Gohama. I don't have enough power."
"I can give you my chakra."
"Skill, Gohama. I never reinforced it before because it's above my skill as a shinobi. But Kakashi can."
"No. Unc— Tsukate please. Not him."
"He's a good man that was following orders. I trust him."
She took firm steps towards Tsukate and she watched the slight raise of his hand, where it rested against his lap, telling Kakashi to stand down. She pressed the edge of her tachi to his neck and still his eyes didn't lose the shade of softness in them.
"Your trust means nothing to me. You mean nothing to me. Nothing. You're no Buki, no Kyura and certainly no uncle of mine."
"I understand. I am sorry I was the only one left for all those years. I'm sorry I caused you so much grief." A Scroll appeared in his hand he laid it into her own. The Seal Scroll. "You will always be both my weapon and my snowdrop, daughter of mine."
His Kyura eyes never lost their fondness. Not even as her weapon wavered against his throat, and made a drop of blood slide down his neck. They both knew she couldn't kill him.
"Your punishment won't be death. Your burden, you'll bear it for the rest of your life."
Gohama pulled away without looking back and jumped out of the window.
Under their feet was a wide and deep arena, where Gohama had trained during her time at the monastery. It was a few kilometres south and perfect for high chakra jutsu, typical of the Kyura. "Don't touch the walls, they absorb chakra." With that information, she jumped down, landing with a soft thud on the dirt floor.
Kakashi landed next to her and even if she had expected it, her tensed up muscles still flinched, ready for action. She passed it as a step forward and he seemed to take it as such, as he followed her onto the middle of the training ground.
"With no deceptions tell me, will you force me back into the Leaf after this?" Her eyes fixed on the collar of his flak jacket, never straying upwards to his face.
"No."
She took the Seal Scroll, one of the three that held all the secret information about the Kyura jinchuriki and jubi, out of her pouch. Gohama cut the palm of her hand with a kunai and let her blood and chakra fall onto the paper.
"Your hand." She bit out in a harsh demand and he obeyed. Gohama spread her blood over his palm and put the scroll in it.
Without delay, Kakashi searched for the right fuinjutsu to reinforce her jinchuriki seal. His hands flashed in a long sequence of seals and he pushed his hand onto the ground. From the contact, swirling lines and characters sprouted and glided to form a wide intricate spiral.
"Get in the middle." Gohama kneeled on the point from where the seal spread through the floor and Kakashi positioned himself next to her on one knee. "Put your arm on my leg." Again she did as he asked, the inside of her forearm turn upwards, the dark blue silhouette of a ten-tailed dragon marked in it. "This is probably going to be painful and take away all of your energy."
Kakashi shaped his fingers into the dragon hand seal and pressed his palm to her forearm. A flame of pain shot from her seal up her arm, towards every little cell in her body. Suddenly, the image of two smooth fingers pressing against her temples covered all her senses but the pain. It had been three years and still the torture at the hands of Danzo's men resurfaced. Gohama was ready to tear through the man with too smooth fingers stabbing the pain into her body again, when it stopped.
Her eyes stared into nothing. Literal nothing. An infinite expanse of blankness spread before Gohama and fear was starting to catch up, her head spinning to every side in a frantic search for anything. Then she saw him, at the corner of her eye, a monstrous swirling stain of blue.
Seiryu.
He stopped in front of her, his size engulfing and his chakra overwhelming. Still, he looked small in all the blankness that surrounded them. His eyes had a slit pupil that sucked in the dark blue of his iris. They pierced through her own as ice deep in the ocean, ancient and unbreakable, unmovable. Its expression a perfect reflection of the beast power he possessed. Her heart trembled in awe and fear. The jubi, the chakra locked inside herself, was finally staring back at her, ten enormous tails waving behind him.
"Finally we meet again, Gohama." His deep low voice thundered through her chest, vibrating all the fibres in her body, her name echoing through the void they were standing in.
She couldn't find her own voice against such an intense, rich one, that seemed to have been forged from the burning depths of the earth. "Sei… Seiryu…" She finally croaked.
His chuckle rumbled in her guts and his smirk showed off his sharp fags. "That is my name, yes." He chuckled again when Gohama's pride made her scowl back at the beast standing before her. "There she is. You shouldn't be intimidated after twenty years together, I won't bite. At least not you, Gohama, it would be very counter-productive."
"I remember having my skin burnt off by your chakra."
Seiryu laughed, hearty and honest, and a complete surprise coming from the beast he was. Then he twirled his claws dismissively, such a human gesture. "Side effects from uncontrolled cloaks. Don't worry, kiddo, I'll get you there."
"Don't call me that, lizard."
He laughed again. "Oh, oh, Gohama, I really wanted to meet you again. Usually it's around the tenth year of our sealing that I meet the jinchuriki, unfortunately that didn't happen with us. You're a little behind, but I'll get you there." He extended his claw in a wide gesture to show off the blank space they were in. "This is how the seal materialises. Quite humbling, don't you think? I'm pretty sure the Kyura chose this just so they could put me in my place, which didn't work." A wink accompanied his last comment. Seiryu had winked, he had actually winked at her.
Gohama shook her head and crossed her arms. "No one ever warned me about how you really are."
"You'll love me, just give it a few days."
"So we can meet again?"
"You've been here before. Don't you remember?"
The memory of that fatal night sprung to her mind. The man in the white mask, Mother's dead body, Father strengthening the seal. "I thought it had been a dream."
"This always happens when the seal is reinforced. There is a fraction of a moment where it reaches its weakest point. Kyura's jinchuriki also learn to communicate with me, I suppose there was no one left to teach you… I hoped someone would fortify the seal sooner, and then I would show you. You were too young back then and too overwhelmed for any type of explanations. I'll explain now. To enter this place do the dragon hand seal with this amount of chakra," Gohama felt it fluttered against her skin, almost nothing. "and touch your mark. Soon you'll get used to me and we can speak without you entering this place if you focus on hearing me."
"How do I know I can trust you?"
"Why wouldn't you? It's not like I have any sensible reason to go against you. We'll both die if the seal is broken and I have little decision on how my chakra is used."
"Then why can't I control it myself, why couldn't I stop myself from growing the fourth tail?"
"That was your will, your enraged will, but still yours."
Gohama closed her fist and clenched her jaw. Those words confirmed what she had always known, what she had always feared.
"You should have killed them. Especially this Hatake guy."
Gohama really didn't want to hear those words coming from Seiryu. They were the truth, but one thing was knowing them herself, another was having him say them to her. Confirm them, mark them into her skin.
"They massacred your Village in cold blood. Our clan. I want them dead. Together I know we can kill all of them, but ability was never your problem, now was it, kiddo? You just need a little push from me. I can't force you into anything, unfortunately the seal is quite well mastered, but I can persuade you."
"I'm not easily persuaded."
"Yes, I am very aware of that, you turned out quite the stubborn brat. Reminds me of your grandfather's mother. He had me inside of him and was still terrified every time his mother turned her eyes on him after he did something stupid." His claws came to rest next to his snout, and he whispered in a conspiring tone. "Which was a lot of times." Gohama laughed, having only heard heroic stories from the Blue Beast of Bukigakure, and Seiryu let out a few quiet chuckles. "They were funny together, those two…"
Seiryu's eyes softened as he looked over her head, unseeing. The little glimpse at her family's history left her longing, but not as much as the biju, who had become quiet and achingly human again. He quickly recovered, turning sharp blue eyes towards her, cunning jumping through the dark void of the pupil.
"Don't forget that twenty years is a long boring time. I've been inside you all your life. I know you better than yourself, Gohama. You're a lonely girl, broken between your weapon and your snowdrop. Much like your uncle. He chose duty, what will you choose?"
That fucking lizard. Of course he had brought up Uncle. Gohama lifted her chin, her gaze square on Seiryu's ancient one, ready to spill whatever raging words where boiling in her chest. Before she cold utter the first syllable, the beast disappeared and so did the infinite blank. Gohama was staring at Kakashi's flak jacket and the pain was back in full force.
She held on with clenched teeth, trying to still the scream that wanted to break free. There were a few seconds where she thought she wouldn't hold it in any longer, the beginnings of a groan rumbling in her throat, but then the pain stopped. The dark swirl on the ground receded into the spot where she kneeled and she stared down at it. Her vision blurred in and out of focus, the black at the corners of her eyes spread, until everything was black and she couldn't hold her weight any longer.
Kakashi wrapped an arm around Gohama's back as her face smacked against his shoulder, stopping her body from slumping onto the floor. The Kyura jinchuriki seal was incredibly more complex than the one he had used to contain Orochimaru's curse mark, and incredibly more demanding.
His breathing came out in ragged puffs and his forehead fell forward to rest against Gohama's shoulder. She would hate him for it, probably rip his head by the neck if she were awake, but Kakashi was almost crossing the line where they would both end up sprawled on the floor. His chakra reserves had taken a heavy hit and his body needed a few moments to recover before he could attempt to move at all.
Gohama smelled terrible, a blend of stale sweat, blood, dirt and moss. She had looked terrible too, with deep purple circles under her swollen eyes, and so much anguish Kakashi almost couldn't look at her. Still, under all the grime there was her feminine scent and under all the tired anguish pressed into her face, there was still her sharpness seeping through green eyes, her pride that always kept her going.
He inhaled deeply, this time with the sole purpose of marking her scent into his memory. And with that inappropriate, downright creepy moment, Kakashi chocked out of embarrassment and gained the energy to pull the both of them out of that training ground.
At the shade of a cedar tree, Kakashi stopped and sat Gohama against the trunk and himself against another in front of her.
It was cruel that Tsukate had asked him, Kakashi, her parents' killer, of all people to reinforce her seal. That was why he had needed him to stay, he had already known Gohama would come to him for that and not only to confront him.
For someone that held truth as the prime ideal in the world, Gohama had been forced into a trial by fire when it came to actually enduring it. But she had known before. No matter how naïve her take on truth, Gohama had known it would hurt and it would be cruel and still she had asked for it.
And now here they were. The truth floating around them and Kakashi didn't feel any freedom, any dropped weight. Everything felt heavier, especially the paralysing self-loathing and guilt. He was glad the truth had come out, Gohama deserved it if it was what she wanted, and yet he couldn't feel anything other than worse than scum, other than this burning compassion that didn't let him breathe.
He had read fifty pages of the new book, when Gohama started to shift with a heavy groan. She clamped her lips shut halfway through the death-like noise, her muscles tensing for an instant before relaxing back into a boneless sack of meat. Kakashi lifted an eyebrow in amusement. If she were in actual danger, that groan would already have alerted the enemies to her awake state.
Her eyelids fluttered open and she glared at him. "I thought you said you wouldn't take me back to the Leaf."
"I won't, I'm just catching up on some reading." He explained while showing off his book disguised as Tactics. "This is quite a lovely place."
"Quite lovely, yes…" Her muscles twitched again, the fatigue making her subtlety disastrous. He didn't moved when she jumped across their distance, a tanto pressing onto his throat. The position was becoming quite a habit for them. "Who did you call? Was it ANBU?"
"I said I wouldn't take you back to Konoha."
"But if it's someone else arresting me, then it won't be you."
"My, my, Gohama, what a devious way of thinking." She made the blade nick his mask and demanded an actual answer. "Maa, there was this cute little squirrel I psst-psst at, but he just ran away when I waved at him."
Gohama didn't appreciate his joke, her hand pulling his hair harshly and exposing more of his neck. "Why are you still here, Hatake?"
"It would be a shame if an animal attacked you while you were passed out. I spent a lot of chakra for you to die right after."
She didn't trust him anymore, but at least she could still recognise honesty.
"Oh, yes. Your precious chakra." Gohama grumbled as she pulled herself and her tanto away from him. "Well, I'm awake now, you can go." She shooed him with her hands as if he were a pigeon.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm pretty sure that doesn't concern you and never did. So just leave me alone and go back to your precious Konoha, tell Tsunade to send the hunter-nin." Her lips twisted into a sneer. "How funny. She always used to threaten me with that when I did something she didn't like. Guess she'll be true to her words, after all."
"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, Gohama. Everyone is after you now. Konoha, Rogue nin, Akatsuki, who knows maybe even the other villages. Everyone."
"Let them come. Seiryu and I will need training partners."
"Don't be cocky. Cockiness ends up with people dead."
"I'm counting on it."
Kakashi took a step towards Gohama, ready to scold her as he would one of his students, ex-students, when a loud explosion sounded north of them. Her eyes mirrored his as they widened.
"It came from the monastery."
Both started running.
He was certain Hansuke hadn't told Tsunade about Gohama. He would try to protect her from the life of a missing-nin and enemy of Konoha for as long as he could. Whatever excuse he had forged over their lack of return after a mission, it must have worked, since no one had tried to come into contact with Kakashi.
That left Akatsuki. Suddenly Furuta Chin's little act before Gohama killed him made sense. Kakashi knew he had been stalling them, even Gohama in all her rage had understood that, and now he knew why. He had wanted to draw Akatsuki's attention. The real battle he had spoken of wasn't between Furuta and Gohama, nor them and her, but Akatsuki and her. The tailed beast chakra was definitely still lingering in that valley and any skilled ninja searching for it would have felt it right away.
Akatsuki. They were dealing with Akatsuki, Kakashi with less than half of his miserable chakra reserves and Gohama still recovering from a jinchuriki cloak and reinforced seal. Maybe running towards the monastery was not the wisest decision, but she wouldn't stop. It had been her home for seven years and Tsukate was there.
Gohama tensed beside him and heightened her speed. She had already felt the enemies' chakra. Kakashi would have to make a decision before they came too close and there was no escape. The trees they were passing were buzzing from the energy released in the explosion and he clenched his jaw. But maybe with Tsukate's help they could survive, maybe they could save him and no one would have to die.
Then he felt it. Uchiha Itachi's chakra signature. Of all the Akatsuki it had to be him. Kakashi didn't even try to reason with Gohama. He jumped the distance between them and tackled her to the ground.
"What are you doing? We have to help Uncle." Gohama hissed as she flayed under him, trying to pull him off her.
"You're still very weak and I lost most my chakra. We could never win."
"I can't just stay here and do nothing."
This time she used her chakra to shove him away. As she started running again, Kakashi caught her ankle and yanked it towards himself, making her fall. She kicked at his hands, but he didn't let go of his hold on her. When blunt force didn't work, she covered her leg with chakra and waited for it to burn his hand, which it did. Kakashi didn't bear the pain for long and again she was free.
"We're lucky they haven't sensed us. They are searching for you, Gohama. Tsukate wouldn't want—"
"I'm done with people sacrificing themselves for me."
Kakashi jumped to tackle her again, managing to grip both her wrists and lock her to his front. This time, he promised himself to bear the pain from having her Kyura chakra burn into his flesh. Gohama grunted as she struggled and before she could yell, he covered her mouth with his hand. Instead she whispered against his palm. "Please…"
"Gohama, we can't win this time. We'll all die."
She still flayed under his hold, but there was no real fight behind it. From this far they could see the three silhouettes. Tsukate being held by his throat, his feet dangling in the air. Her chakra flared, echoing her own internal struggle. He held his breath, waiting for the turn of Itachi's head towards them that never came. It was a godsend that they hadn't been sensed yet.
"Control your chakra or I'll put you to sleep with the sharingan." Kakashi hissed against her ear and Gohama for once obeyed without hindering things.
Her shoulders shook against his chest and Kakashi kept his strong hold on her, still not trusting Gohama to not run and put her life at risk. If even his heart was breaking at watching his friend get killed without moving a hand to help him, he couldn't grasp what Gohama was feeling. Just the realisation of what was coming, of the certainty of Tsukate's death, was enough to freeze his guts with dread for his own loss and for hers.
He felt wet drops falling onto his hands and forearms, the salty smell of tear plunging through his nose. In two days Kakashi had seen Gohama cry more than the four years that she had been in Konoha.
One of the Akatsuki pulled his sword back and swung it across Tsukate's stomach. A killer blow. Gohama's scream was muffled against his palm. They let him fall to the ground, disregard clear in the careless gesture, and left.
His decision had been the right one. He tried to console himself in knowing this was what Tsukate had wanted, for him to protect Gohama, for him to stop her from doing anything reckless and stupid. But there was no reasoning that could fade away the self-loathing sinking his insides to lead. Obito's words that Kakashi had made his own screamed inside his head. 'Those who leave their friends behind are worse than scum.'
When he deemed it safe, Kakashi let go of Gohama and she fell on the grass onto her hands and knees. He pulled himself up and stared at his worn, wet hands before pushing them inside his pockets.
"I'm sorry." He whispered the useless, meaningless words that fell on deaf ears, and still he had had the need to say them.
Gohama pulled herself up, her feet stumbling under the weight of death, of loss. She didn't move, she just stared ahead to the slump body of her uncle. Kakashi waited for her. He would walk when she chose to walk.
First she gave one hesitant step, her eyes never straying from Tsukate's body. She was scared of seeing him dead, he could feel it in her chakra. Kakashi was scared too. The next step and then the next and then she was running and he followed behind her.
Tsukate lay on the ground, a deep oozing gash on his stomach soaked his monk robes in red. His face was the palest Kakashi had ever seen and his breathing came out in quick, wet gasps. There was no saving him, his life was tied only by a thin thread.
His green eyes focussed and unfocussed on Gohama's face as she threw herself to her knees beside him, her hands glowing green as she tried to heal him with poor medical jutsu. "Don't leave me too, Uncle. I forgive you, I… please, don't go…"
"You're here…" His throat made watery gurgling sounds as he spoke. "You're safe…" His eyes flickered to Kakashi and he sent him a silent gratitude, a silent plea. 'Again, watch after her when I'm not there.' 'I promise.'
He tried to reach for her and Gohama took his blooded hand and rested against her cheek. "Kami please…" She was crying, Kakashi could hear it in her voice. "Why did you do this, Uncle, why…? They can take Seiryu, I don't care. They can have him…"
Tsukate smiled his consoling smile, but it had a different depth than the ones he had offered their fellow soldiers during the war, that one had kindness and compassion, this one was gleaming in love for Gohama.
"I didn't do it for him. I did it for you, my dear Hama-chan."
His words only made her cry more, her sobs loud and broken. Kakashi turned his eyes away from them. He was witnessing something where he didn't belong, where he would only taint things. With a final long gasp, the noise screaming of death, Tsukate's breathing disappeared and his chakra started fading away from his pathways, then his core. His life flying away into the air and the earth.
Gohama went quiet too, as she closed Tsukate's eyelids and crossed his arms over his chest. Kakashi couldn't tell how long it had been while they stayed there, Gohama looking down on her uncle's dead body and him looking away, to the indigo roof of the monastery.
A monk approached them and Kakashi only noticed him and he spoke quietly to Gohama. "We can clean the body in time for a funeral at sundown. The Kyura way."
He waited for her answer with a stilled breath.
"Yes…" she let out a hoarse whisper. "The Kyura way."
Good, Kakashi thought, even if he had no right of thinking it.
Other monks came and they took away Tsukate. Kakashi didn't watch any of it, he continued to stare at the indigo roof of the monastery, his own shadow growing across the grass as the sun glided over his side and reflected back on the dark tiles.
"You can leave, now."
Gohama had gotten up and he finally shifted on his feet to face her, but she was looking over the edge of the cliff. "I would like to stay. Tsukate is a good man, a good friend."
Gohama stayed silent, her hands trembling where she held them against her chest. She turned to him, first only her profile. Her cheek was stained with Tsukate's blood and it only made the cavernous white of her skin shout. Kakashi had thought that image was gut-wrenching, until she finally turned fully to him.
All the desolation he thought he had seen marked to her eyes was nothing compared to this. Not even betrayal had taken that much from her. Gohama was hollow.
A lump pressed to his throat and it stung and it made his eyes sting as they hadn't in a long time. He had seen that expression on so many other faces before, but on Gohama's it hit him deeper, it… It reminded him of Rin after Obito's death. Kakashi forced himself to keep looking, to accept the burden of those terrifying hollow eyes. Was it showing in his own eye? Even if it were, Gohama wouldn't see it. She looked blind.
"After everything I know… why does it hurt so much?"
There was a plea behind her words as she whispered them to him, but Kakashi didn't have anything good he could give her or anything he could hold for her. He kept his hands in his pockets fighting the impulse to reach out for Gohama, maybe try to wash out the blood in her cheek or just hug her. But that was ridiculous, he didn't comfort people and he certainly didn't hug them. Tsukate had been the one that could fill hearts with hope from just a smile and now he was dead. People couldn't even see Kakashi's mouth.
Still, in that moment, he would have taken the entire weight of the world for Gohama if he could have.
Then she turned her face away from him, her eyes back to the cliff at the feet of the monastery, the sea of green forest under the mountain. Kakashi let out a shaky puff, short and painful, as the pressure in his chest eased and he could breathe again.
His hand reached for a small pebble that rested beside his sandal and saved it inside his pouch. He would put it on the Memorial Stone. Kyura Tsukate. Another name added to the long list etched under his skin. Another good person he couldn't save. Another dead friend.
Uncle rested on the clear grey bark, almost white, of a birch platform. Laying there, he would have seemed to be sleeping if not for the still stony lines of his face. Static, cold and striking, painted with the shadows of death. His sage green haori clashed against the fur of the white wolf cloak and the Kyura colours made everything more beautiful, more proper, more dead. In life, Uncle wore dark robes, sometimes ochre, but never green nor white.
His arms were crossed and laid on his chest. The right hand held his katana, the left hand held snowdrop flowers. His weapon and his snowdrop. Seeing them made Gohama's heart shudder against her ribs and her hand clasp the fabric above her chest. Uncle had said she had been his weapon and his snowdrop and Gohama had told him he was nothing to her. Poor Kyura Tsukate, whose life had been given for the wrong person.
Another heavy full life sewed to the flesh on her chest, another life she would never be able to live up to.
The funeral procession began. The monks hummed mournful hymns, their low voices echoing over the red light of sundown. They showed no grief. The mourning recognised the end of a path and the beginning of another, the loss of a companion and the gratitude for his life. But they didn't hurt as she did from death. Their sadness was quiet and light.
For seven years, Gohama had witnessed and marvelled at the soft bliss carved into the faces of the monks, into their smiles and simple laughs. She had never been more than a spectator of the eternal plane where they lived, sacred and whole and simple. Always a foreigner recognising the language but without understanding its meaning. Gohama had marvelled, but now, as they sang their sacred hums, and took Uncle's death without grief, she resented them.
Her eyes fixed on Uncle's face as she took small steps forward, as she followed the casket carried by four monks at their waist height. The family was always to lead the funeral procession. For Kyura Tsukate, only Gohama could. And when she died there would be no one to follow her casket, to receive and give the mark. It was sad, but there was freedom in it. Her snowdrop was dead, now all her being could become her weapon. Uncle had taken his burden with strength and kindness. Now Gohama would take hers.
The sun was resting right above the flamed horizon as they reached the burial site. A few steps forward and they would be at the edge of the cliff. Gohama watched the line dividing the grass of the cemetery and the trees below them, as the Abbot sang the prayers of the Kyura ritual. It was beautiful. She felt it pierce straight through her heart, her eyes stinging with it, as the solemn beauty of rituals and concrete beauty of nature merged into one. Uncle would have loved it too.
The line of the horizon split the sun in half. A monk extended a wooden basin filled with red powder. Gohama dipped her two fingers, swirling them around the velvet texture. With weak, trembling steps, she neared Uncle's body. Her whole heart trying to open up for this moment, trying to capture and save everything that would come from it.
Her fingers pressed onto Uncle's temple and she slid them onto the other side of his forehead, a red line marking his pale skin.
"May the deceased's mind protect and complement the living." The Abbot spoke.
Gohama drew the same line on her own forehead, a few speckles of powder falling over her nose and cheeks.
Again, she dipped her fingers into the silky powder. On Uncle's face, she drew another line from the middle of the first following the middle of his eyes, his nose and his mouth.
"May the deceased's eyes, nose and mouth protect and complement the living."
Gohama drew the same line from her forehead to her chin.
Again, she dipped her finger into the red bowl. Following the same mark, she drew another from his neck on to his chest.
"May the deceased's heart protect and complement the living."
Gohama drew the same line on her neck and chest.
"May all past ancestors dwell in their living descendants. May the living descendants carry in them all their past ancestors. Through blood that bonds and name that lingers."
Her heavy eyelids wavered and closed at the weight crushing through her shoulders. Gohama forced herself to take the burden of Uncle's death, to watch the red marks on his skin as they mirrored the ones on her own flesh. Her heart had to be open and accept, but Gohama wasn't sure she could be capable of that. Gohama wasn't sure if she had shed her barriers and had let the sacred bond between blood and clan engrave onto her being.
It should feel different from this void, this crippling emptiness that kept on adding and growing. She should feel full with the spirit of her ancestors, of her family, not like an empty carcass left to wither in the sun.
Gohama had never received and given the marks to Father, Mother and Yukine. Did they dwell in her? How could they, if she could only feel loss, if her empty, beaten heart could not be more than half? Maybe Uncle Tsukate would, maybe she had opened herself to him. She hoped, she didn't believe it, but she hoped.
The sun had disappeared over the distant line of mountains. The burning red had given place to pink. It was time to bury the dead.
"May the stillness and nothingness of night hold your life until the morning."
As the monks lowered the body, Gohama sang the epitaphic song of the Kyura. Her voice was lonely in the rising night, it was a song only for the family to sing. Her voice broke in the last verses, her throat tight and aching, but there were no tears this time. No matter how much she wanted to give them to Uncle, she had no tears.
Uncle's body reached the bottom of the grave. His face covered in shadows, almost too dark to see. She wanted to see it, she didn't want to part from the flesh and bone image of Uncle. And still, this was it, the shadow veiled his face in black and that was the last time she would see it.
Gohama remembered that when her grandmother had died Mother had cut her hair in grief. It was a Kyura tradition.
She summoned her tanto, the tanto that had belonged to Mother, the tanto that had been a gift for becoming a genin, the tanto that she had offered her Yukikage and her Village as a symbol of her warrior duty. Her weapon.
Her other hand grabbed her long hair, as it flowed down onto the middle of her back, dark as night's veil. Her grip was tight around the corded handle as she brought the blade against her hair. With a precise and sharp swipe, her hair came loose against her shoulders and chin. Spreading her hand forward, she let the tresses glide down through the air and fall over Uncle's body.
Hair and grief for a dead father.
Gohama kneeled down to grab a handful of soil. She brought it to her nose and inhaled the moist, earthy scent of the Land of Snow. The land had given him his life and now Uncle gave his life back to it. He belonged in the earth of Snow, of the monastery. She let the grains slip into the grave, falling onto her hair and Uncle's unmoving chest.
Finishing her part of the ritual, Gohama stepped back and the others followed her action. She kept looking into the pit, Uncle gradually being concealed and her throat tightening with it, her chest aching for him. The grave was fully covered. Only a lump of earth looking over Snow's forest.
It was certain and final. Painful, so utterly painful.
Kyura Gohama, the last and only one.
Night had fully fallen onto the horizon. Gradually the monks left. Yamato-san passed by her with a kind smile and compassionate hand on her shoulder. Gohama nodded in gratitude, she couldn't even fake a smile for monk Yamato. Then, she noticed one of his white roses laying next to the snowdrops on the mound of soil. If only Uncle would have known that he was worthy of one of Yamato's roses.
The hours ran with the stars and the night of vigil passed. The night of nothingness and death. With the first rays of sun, the monks returned with lighter chants and mellowed voices.
"Our bodies belong to the earth, our spirits belong to the sky. May you come to rest in the essence of the world, under the morning light, Kyura Tsukate." The Abbot said.
The birth of a new day. Uncle's spirit rose himself from his body and flew, light and free. No more pain, no more grief, guilt, or burden. Death was freedom. And loss, but no matter how much Gohama missed Uncle, her heart smiled because Uncle was finally free.
With a last glance over the mound covered in flowers, she left the graveyard. There was nothing left for her in that place.
"Are you leaving?"
The voice startled her. How could she had forgotten Kakashi was still there? Had he stayed there the entire night of vigil?
"Yes."
"You should stay for one more night." She ignored him and continued walking. "There's no reason for rushing. They could still be out there."
"Even better."
He grabbed her arm and yanked her to turn to him. "Then I'll have to take you back to the Leaf. Your carelessness is a liability."
She grabbed his wrist with a cruel, chakra-enhanced hold and pulled it away from her arm. "Really, Hatake, you're going to threaten me?"
He pushed his hands inside his pockets. "If I have to. It's still not safe out there. I made a promise."
His quiet tone reached into her grieving chest and she averted her eyes from his. Raising her chin, she asked, "Are you going to be my shadow now?"
"I don't like it either, but a promise is a promise. At least, until you're safe to go."
For Uncle. She would accept being treated as a fresh genin by the man that had killed her parents, because it would ease Uncle's spirit. She turned on her heel and walked away.
"Where are you off to?"
"Washing my face. Don't worry, I won't burn myself with water."
"You have to leave it for the day. It's the tradition."
Gohama turned sharply. "How could you possibly know?"
"I could never forget the Kyura's funeral ceremony…"
She kept walking. Kakashi had been to a Kyura funeral before. Perhaps during the war… She decided not to wash the red powder. Maybe it would work, maybe her heart had been open to welcome Uncle. Gohama didn't believe it, but she hoped.
That night Gohama didn't sleep. Every time her eyelids fluttered closed, Uncle's dead face drew itself in tones of red and ash. Then the ones of Father, Mother and Yukine. Sometimes the clansmen that she had already honoured with the death of Furuta. Even of her childhood friends, Haku, Isune and Kunimaru. Even her alive teammates, Nikato, Kisamaru and Hansuke.
Too exhausted to pretend, Gohama pulled the duvet away from her body and brought her knees against her chest, her hands absently tugging at the ragged edges of her hair.
Gohama had nothing but her weapon, nothing but her duty. She would follow it and bear it with the simplicity and endurance of Uncle Tsukate.
Bukigakure. Her only place was in Bukigakure and there was where she would train, as all the past jinchuriki had trained before her.
She stood up and sneaked inside Kakashi's room. She was sure he wasn't asleep, but for whatever reason inside his confusing head, he didn't move so she didn't hesitate in searching his backpack and pouches.
The three secret jinchuriki scrolls. The Chakra Scroll, the Seiryu Scroll and the Seal Scroll. Uncle truly did trust him if he had trust these to Hatake Kakashi.
Her fingers flexed open and close as she stared at the Seal one. She saved the other two inside her back pouch and with one last glance towards the Seal Scroll, she stood.
The chilling air crashed against her face as she opened the window and crouched on the sill.
"Be careful." She heard Kakashi whisper and his voice lingered in her ears.
She jumped.
I imagined the song Gohama sang during the funeral as the melody of "Tennyo no Uta" from the Studio Ghibli movie, Princess Kaguya (I recommend it. It's beautiful). It served as a background music for my writing.
In Japan, cremation is more traditional and common than burials, but I thought the last was more consonant with Kyura culture. The cutting the hair tradition has inspiration in Ancient Greece, I think this is also a practice in other cultures.
As always, thank you very much for reading and stay safe!