Chapter 5: Dust and Echoes
... Atonement... If a sin can be atoned for then it is not really a sin...
- Anonymous
Copy ninja Hatake Kakashi... An honor to be sure, the shinobi said, in a mockingly courteous voice. He took off his bamboo hat, and gave an equally condescending bow.
I never thought you would make your move so soon... Did Sasuke's frighten you? Kakashi replied, hand instinctively reaching towards his left eye.
The ninja brought himself back up. Mmm... no... not really... Sasuke was a valuble asset, yes, but his death was worth the sacrifice.
Kakashi grunted in surprise, and the ninja's face, darkened by the black and red sky, merely grinned. The complete and utter destruction of the Uchiha Clan was on our agenda for the longest time. We feared their ability, yes, but in the end, with careful planning, Itachi-kun did most of the work for us. The poor fool never even realized he was being played as a pawn; he always thought he was part of us, a brother. Heh, the ninja chuckled slowly, As if we let a such a one-track minded misanthrope into our little group
Kakashi-sama, what are our orders? an ANBU asked, his insectlike mask turned in his direction. Kakashi just stared at the harbinger of doom in front of him. Who are you? Why are you doing this?
Hah. Hahahaha... hehehe... Who am I to refuse a last request? the ninja laughed darkly. If you wanted to know if we had some grander agenda on our mind, you are going to be sorely dissappointed. We are just a common mercenary band, created in part by Orochimaru-sama before he abandoned us and created his now destroyed Sound village. We are here not for glory or fame, wealth or pleasure, we are here for power. My name is quite meaningless, as is the others. Wanizame-san...
The ninja turned to a huge, sharkish creature whom Kakashi was all too familiar with.
... You know what to do...
The white, hellish mask of a monster turned upwards in a sneer.
If... If only this whole thing ended today...
Shino lashed out at a black cat crossing his path, a vile mood suddenly surfacing and controlling his thoughts. At the moment, he felt nothing short of absolute hatred of life as he traveled to a small gym run by the people of Konoha. Seeing the hanging of Ebisu's family awoke a normally hibernating beast and whipped it into a frenzy. He hated Yanbo, he hated the Hokage, he hated the rest of the Konoha Seven, and he most especially hated Sakura.
Stop acting like it's nothing!
Well, what the hell was he supposed to say? Ho hum, sucks for Ebisu?
Selfish brat,' thought Shino darkly. What does she know about death?'
...Probably a lot... muttered Shino to himself, reprimanding that thought with a silent sigh. He walked to the gym and entered it, greeting the the emptiness with an appraising look. He had lied about the tutoring session, as Hanabi had no need of tutoring, rather, he just wanted a moment to sit and think. Unfortunately, sometimes that made things just a tad worse. Why, he never knew outright, though a thought, just one thought, morbid and shocking, would cross his mind, and he would freeze, savoring the feeling of something so surprising compared to his normal, numb-like state. More than often enough, he would feel extremely guilty, remorseful for thinking of just one pleasure. The reason
he felt so, eluded him.
He walked over to a pillar, leaned against it and slid down to the tatami mats, sitting down, and allowed his mind to go and play; ideas, wild and with grandeur, danced around his head as he single-handedly crushed Yanbo and the Konoha Seven, along with the loser Hokage, which then shifted him to taking the Hokage's robes and crowning himself the Hokage, and led Konoha back into the fold as a competent contender, he and Sakura in the middle of-
Shino threw his head back and cracked it against the pillar behind him, shooting pain down the back of his neck and sliding down his spine. The momentary adrenaline rush from the pain momentairly exhilarated him, causing him to briefly forget everything. That one, single moment was heavenly bliss to Shino, as nothing mattered anymore, he didn't exist, Sakura didn't exist, Konoha didn't exist, and ninjas didn't exist in the world he was in.
And then he returned back to the cold, hellish world he was condemned to stay in.
He grunted, and leaned forward, reaching back with his arm and felt the moist blood trickle down the back of his neck, rubbed it between his fingers, spreading the ruby glaze until it dried, and then flaking off, all the while watching it with a morbid fascination.
Shino turned his head towards the ceiling and stood up, turned to face the pillar, and dusted off the corner between the pillar and the ceiling. Scrawled on it were faint markings, of people who once trained and died in that training area. None of them were names Shino was familiar with, nor did he care to familiarize with. He stared at the names, and suddenly became so angry he started to imagine that the pillar did some greatly insulting thing towards him. Quick as lightning, he draw a short, hand-made knife, and started to gouge into the pillar, false names that had no meaning whatsoever, he scratched names of plants, animals, birds, people, rocks, anything to detract the names on the ceilings worth. Or maybe he was hoping to add to them, to give them comfort and company when they were so lonely.
Or maybe he just felt like venting his rage against something that didn't fight back.
Shino's knife got caught in a pock mark on the wood, and for a second, jarred his movements, and threw his balance off. The knife tore and ripped a huge splinter out and gouged into his forearm, and started to bleed. The former Aburame heir let out a terrific curse and dropped to the flooring, tearing off a piece of his pants to stem the blood. It was bleeding pretty badly, and he had to go back to his home to clean it up. He glanced up and stared straight into pale white orbs.
Shino had turned to stone; his skin suddenly glistened with sweat, and he clutched the knife with such pressure that he was putting himself in danger of cutting through his hand. He remained this way for some time, a drop of sweat dropping from his eyes.
Hanabi. What are you doing here?
I... I'm hungry, sensei, Hanabi whispered. She was the spitting image of her older sister, and Shino nearly burst into tears when she made her plea.
Where are your guardians? he asked, and relaxed visibly. Hanabi shrugged, her dirty and greasy hair hanging limply to the sides.
Ionno... they didn't come back from the forest... and that was a few days ago...
Her eyes had the dull edge of a plastic knife, through acts unspeakable inflicted upon her, and Shino felt the insects within him stir for a split second, disturbed by the sudden surge of rage within him. After a few moments, Shino got to his feet and nodded.
Very well, come, let's get you something to eat.
---
Shino's house rested a block away from Sakura's and Ino's, and across the street from Choji's Ichiraku. It had a hole in the outside only Akamaru can go through, and he did so on numerous occasions. Inside was sparse; as well furnished as his money could spare, which amounted to reclining chair, a table, a bed, and amazingly enough, a bath. Shino made a sort of kitchen in the corner made with flat rocks and bamboo mats, with a stone slab underneath a bridge of rock to control a fire, which Shino immediately did, and put a slab of already cooked meat on the makeshift stone stove.
Akamaru immediately greeted them, bounding down from the chair and lapping at Hanabi's face, as she smiled sadly.
Akamaru's always so happy, she commented.
Dogs are quick in accepting things, came Shino's response.
Hanabi didn't reply to that, instead sitting crosselegged in Shino's defeated chair, with Akamaru's head in her lap.
I talked to Miss Sakura yesterday, when I was at her shop...
Shino didn't reply.
I heard we were planning to leave here... Is that true?
Shino nodded once, and flipped the meat over to warm the other side and destroy any harmful bacteria that may have accumulated on it.
I don't wanna leave...
Shino turned his head slightly, disbelieving on what he heard. And why's that?
Hanabi said nothing, and just looked down. Ionno... I guess I love this place, no matter how scary it is... And I feel like I'm betraying everyone that had died... Like we are abandoning their dreams...
Dreams?
DREAMS!?
Dreams are just that. Dreams. Dreams are wonderous, dreams give us reason. Dreams make us content, dreams make us love, laugh and above all make us live. Unfortunately, it's as fragile as life itself, despite what others leave you to believe. Dreams can be crushed, dreams can be killed, lost, forsaken. Dreams can be twisted into abhorrent versions of itself. Dreaming can be forgotten, dreaming can be disgusting. Dreaming can be hateful, vulgar, spiteful.
Shino surprised even himself by speaking; poison that was festering in his heart was suddenly being vomited out over the food he was warming.
So why then, are people so shocked to see them defiled? Does it go against what they believe in, that dreams actually matter? Dreams... tricky thing dreams... Some are honest, loving, and happy... Others are dark, dreary and unhappy. Dreams are like a self-designated destiny we give ourselves. But, how do we know that it is not Fate itself that is doing this to us? How do we know that by giving ourselves dreams is what Fate intended, to give us a false sense of superiority? How do we know that we continue to evade Fate? How can we defy our fate, if we don't even know how to even begin to defy it?
Shino's fist slammed into the wood flooring, and Akamaru yipped and whined, and sat on his haunches in front of Hanabi in a gesture saying, Don't go near him.'
My dream had ended when I was reduced to this, and I don't give a damn either. My dream was smashed, but there's something they didn't understand when they crushed it. Destroying a dream does not terminate a person's reason to live. I have nothing to lose, and everything to gain. In time, you will understand what I mean by, this, disgusting hypocrisy of what ninja is, and how being ninja betrayed Hinata, betrayed Naruto, betrayed Sasuke, Kiba, Shikamaru, Neji, Kurenai, Gai and everyone else that gave their lives in vain. There is no use in trying to be righteous if you are a ninja. It won't work. Honor is useless. Pride is negligible. Self-worth is a liability. You are dead the moment you are born. This village made a costly error in promoting humanity through friendship.
Hanabi's eyes enlarged to the size of dinner plates, and looked genuinely frightened. Her innocent statement caused all the vile, disgusting opinions Shino held down in his body and mind for so long to come spewing out, like a sake bottle being shaken up and stuck near a furnace for three years. She turned her head away, but Shino's voice spoke sharply. Don't look away. I will be heard.
He paused.
Hanabi, let me tell you something. I am a worthless person who allowed his teammate and friend to die, witnessed your sisters death, and stood by watching an innocent man's family hung. I swear to you, on all of the Sandaime's ninja's graves, that there is still one dream in my mind. I want to breathe the air like normal people. I want you to breathe fresh air. I want Akamaru, Sakura, Choji, Ino, Ebisu to see the sun. I promise you: we are going to leave here, and never return. Each day I am forced to come to terms with a disgusting laugh weaved in with the disgusting fog, and too long have I smelled the burning sensations from the forest. I want to live my last days, not as a ninja, but as someone human. Someone me. And I want to sleep without having a dagger next to my pillow. We will leave soon... And it cannot be soon enough. Call it a dream, a reason, a destiny, I don't give a damn. All of it's the same, really.
I just do not want to be here anymore. Those that had died, did so to ensure our happiness. Are we happy, Hanabi?
Hanabi shook her head.
Then they would be greatly insulted if we stayed here, would they not? Shino sighed.
Minutes passed, and Shino felt Hanabi's arms tighten around his chest, shaking slightly. Shino looked up at the ceiling, taking his attention away from the food.
I know it's scary... But I would rather die than to live another minute in this choking village. It's not home... anymore. Here, Shino scooped up the meat with his hand, and put it on a sturdy plate of cleansed rock, and handed it to Hanabi.
Hanabi leaned backwards, and took a bite of the meat, which was claimed by Shino yesterday in the woods. The small, dainty bites turned into ravenous, hungry chomps, as Hanabi began to eat in a very dog-like manner, ripping and shredding the meant, gnawing on the bone, trying to get as much of the tender meat as she could. Shino watched her; a pang of sadness blanketing over his anger, and he was left feeling beyond embarrased of what he had said. He knew that Hanabi wasn't going to absorb what he said just yet.
Hanabi, it is best if you stayed here tonight with Akamaru. I'm going to meet Sakura, Choji and Ino someplace remote tonight. If we are chanced upon, I don't want to see you hurt.
Hanabi looked up at him with a questioning look. Shino only answered it with silence. It's gonna be harrowing. But with some luck, it will be the best thing we had ever done with ourselves.
Hanabi nodded slowly. Will there be birds? she asked.
Shino paused. There were no signs of birds, bird nests, bird feathers, bird anything, since That Horrible Day. It was like everything within a fifty mile radius of Konoha suddenly decayed and died.
Shino was fairly certain there would be birds. Fresh water, clear skies, fresh air... A heaven compared to this land.
Shino looked out a cracked and dusty window, and watched the color of the fog darken in color, a symbol of the sun on it's way down, then turned to Hanabi, and her shabby clothes.
Hanabi, I have a few more hours... Let me see if I can give you some proper clothing instead of that poncho.
When Shino got up and Hanabi followed him, a face appeared at the very window Shino looked out of. It's three eyes glanced in, and rotated it's head and sprang away and into the dirty brown sea of fog.
Karasu had located Shino.
======
Forgive the delay _;; School can be a major drainage of creative influence.
