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Author's Dilemmas: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know the prologue of a story always sucks the most. Especially since it doesn't really do anything. However, in this case, I think this is very indeed necessary. So, please enjoy!
Prologue
Through her emerald gaze, her sight contacted the smooth surface of the blue marble that was dimly lit by the silver rays of the moon.
Nature had painted the velvet skies with wisps of thin and almost invisible clouds. Within, She molded a faintly glowing sphere, far smaller to a man's naked eye than its actual size, perfect in shape, yet flawed in its exterior.
It was a luxurious scene to behold. And the elegance in the extraordinary beauty who invited herself into the picture contributed to the almost utopian setting.
Almost.
The female wore a countenance of melancholy as she eyed the over-sized stone that sat firmly before her. It spoke not of the names of her beloved nor the names of the precious people who others held dear, but displayed them, clearly, in legible print, on its face.
They would remain there for years, even with the threats of the change in the four seasons. Erosion of wind will soon chip the monument's surface and rain will wash away the constructor's hard work.
But their names would remain engraved in her heart for as long as she is alive, all of them. She did not allow any to drift or wander from her memory.
Especially not when their deaths were caused by the defect of her abilities.
They were her patients, each and every one of them. While battling their opponents in hopes of defending their homes, they cast their bodies on the bed that the battlefield provided them, and fell into an eternal slumber.
And she could not revive them, not with the sacred remedy of maiden tears, not with the spell of a thousand apologies. All she could do now was to leave the sweet fragrance of freshly bloomed blossoms and mutter the words of comfort.
The wind took the role of her messenger and second best companion always. It carried her cheeries and wearies to the after life and worked to the best of its abilities to lend an ear, an eye, and a helping hand during her missions.
Yet, wind was wind, just like one's shadow will always be a figure shaded gray---intangible, unfeeling, and incomprehensive. In her heart, it occupied the space she reserved for second priorities.
Her first priorities wandered off, drifting, one by one, until most were gone, and they were the only ones left.
" You are here again."
A deep voice stated, almost catching her off guard.
Her battle comrade failed to announce his arrival. Never once had it done so before. Perhaps it sensed that he was no threat. Or maybe, she analyzed, it had mistaken his pale shimmering depths for those of the moon.
She nodded, short pink flow of silk bobbling up and down in agreement.
" It's Mid-Autumn's day (1). Tonight's our night of gathering. We have a day for that every year, remember?" Staring blindly at the structure, she made no effort in taking action when she spoke.
" Hn." He strolled up to her from behind, almost in a casual, cat-like manner, catching sight of the small picnic basket she had placed on the ground before her toes.
Without the activation of his bloodline limit that saw past all things, the man knew exactly its contents.
" Sheesh, where are Naruto and Hinata-Chan? Don't tell me they forgot what today is." Her attempted humor came out in a ghostly, dry tone.
Her façade was crumbling away like the walls of an ancient house crumbling away after time has brought away its strengths. Soon, all disguises would be no more in the light of truth.
He understood her strengths…but he also understood her weaknesses. It wasn't exaggeration or mockery when his mind made the analogy.
" Do you know where they are?"
" They're…busy." He selected his word with caution.
" Of course, of course. Things haven't been so easy for them ever since Naruto inherited the title of Sixth Hokage. He's probably working his ass off right now in his office." She laughed, no mirth contained in her laughter.
He observed her still, the pain of her countenance reflected upon his own with a genuine frown and the knitting of a pair of delicate eyebrows.
She was running, escaping reality.
He knew. He always did. Yet he did nothing to reveal the cheap trickery behind her play.
Maybe it was better if he left it that way.
Yes, she would appreciate it if he did.
(1)- Mid-Autumn's Day-For those who are Asian, I think you may know what I am refering to. It is the time when family members are to gather to do a little "moon-gazing".
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