It astounded her to no end how long it took for the supposedly 'elite' ninja to recognise her disguise. Those she once looked up to, the woman now scorned, for their abilities. For they had once, an era ago, called her weak and skill less. They say her as one with no potential in almost all areas but one, which could easily be quelled. The woman gave a smile. They were ones to talk.
That genius everyone recognised had been nowhere near close to guessing her identity. Even with his unique abilities, the boy had had no luck at breeching her wall of deception. And the woman lived there in the village for years before those who were once her closest companions even came close to breaking her shell, the wall between her emotions and her actions.
And then, something else had been offered to the woman. But she refused to accept their measly exchange for the use of her body. As any of her former friends would say, the woman considered herself to be expendable only to a certain extent.
Her thoughts raged back to the former train. The woman was amazed those who were chasing her had not recognised her. While she had not too great beauty or any other attractive features, she did not believe she was one to fade into memories forever. They were supposed to be the best the country could offer, and yet pit against her, they were useless. Yet if they were, why was she running from the grasps of the Shinobi hunters?
The woman did not know.
She moved gracefully through the woods, trying to escape without inflicting injury (for it was not as it they could reach her in their puny skills and power) on those who trailed her footsteps like spaniels, and yet for completely different reasons. She did not brush even a leaf, leaving almost no trace of herself behind. And yet, to their credit, the ANBU continued to follow the woman, to the edge of the woods where land met sea, and ripples buoyed the fruits of the harmony up and down for eternity.
It truly had not been the best of her ideas to loosen up the hold around her identity. She should have known, the woman chided herself, that the man was keeping an eye on her, though for what reason she could not understand. He, the infamous bastard without emotions. He, the one who said she was useless all through their Genin careers together, was paying her attention. For no reason she could specify. It was not as if she were a beauty, for he had never glimpsed the face – or at least the believed it, and she was rarely wrong – or had displayed some unique talent.
The man had once said she reminded him of someone he knew years before, in the decades not yet swallowed up in the whirling sea of time. Those years, he told the woman, were some of his best, and he would not see them fade away from his memory and his mind without telling anyone. A few moments later, he had left abruptly for a chance at ANBU.
It seemed the man had become powerful enough to make up for the loss of his team mate, the woman found as she strayed up in the poles of the arena were a few drills and endurance tests were held. She knew it was hard, but she felt little pity for the men – even she had enough power to join, and she had not gone through the procedures, even known of them, before the moment.
Her former team mate, of course, had done wonderfully as expected, breezing through and doing his name proud. There had been no hesitation in the selections, and he had been the first to be announced as 'passed'. And that smirk on his face was ever-present in the ceremony, even as those precious to him looked on - perhaps it was because they looked on that he smirked. The woman knew not.
As strange as if was, or perhaps not, the woman could see he was one of those chasing her. She did not think too much of it– it were not as if he could catch her. The woman could (and did) take time to glance through spaces between trunks of trees to the dull green of the sea.
Crisp breezes skimmed the edges of the water, creating waves so smooth it drew her in and onto its surface. Of course, the ANBU followed tirelessly. But she knew, like her, they were only human, and would not follow forever like she'd feared earlier in the chase.
Waves bobbed around her ankles, seeping into the edges of her sandals, but the woman did not mind. She just gave a tiny smile as the ANBU landed onto the rougher waters. She barely paid attention to their gestures, moving further and further away from the land until it visible no more, and with her speed, even the ANBU were specks in the horizon. The fiery sunset provided a backdrop of daring, as she gave another burst of speed, and even the specks vanished in the smooth walk.
Her long hair had come out of the ponytail, and accompanied the wind in swirling around her. She had long since discarded her cloak. And even in the chill, the woman did not regret it, as the short kimono draped over her thin body flapped against her thighs, just an inch below her swirling hair.
Sea foam bobbed around her ankles, riding in and out on the knee-height waves. It was so white, the woman realised, as pure as newly fallen snow and as soft as a feather, falling from the heavens. She added more chakra to the soles of her feet until she rose above the short-lived accessory the waves seemed to love. The woman did not realise it, but she was like a nymph, using the cool water as her adornments, moving so smoothly they seemed like one.
She did not move until the last second when the four-man team of ANBU reached her. She was dancing, for an unknown reason, and she could see the hurt and confusion flowing into the eyes of the man as she did so. It was as if he had come across some action he could not understand; but had he never set eyes on the pattern of movement that was a dance? His emotions were there, for once, and his eyes told all (they would, it was his bloodline).
"Why!" he demanded, drawing out a weapon. "Why did you hide your identity? Why did you run away." And then, he sounded defeated, even as he raised the katana, "Why did you not stay for me?" (And yet, even with his eyes, he could not find answers for himself)
"You are too arrogant." The woman replied, speaking for the first time in months, and she would say not more. Her glance was one of amusement, for he dared use her element against her. (The man should have known she used weapons, for she had since her very first days. And he'd taken it all in, and yet not remembered)
His katana came flying at her, even though it was not his natural form of fighting. His team mates waited, and the woman smiled at his impudence, grasping his weapon in a moment, and taking control of it the next. And the moment after that, the man's mask was knocked off. The look on his face, the amazement, was priceless, she thought. (He really was a wonderful friend, now putting everything before friendship. Was it what had happened to their relationship when she left?)
Her speed was such that even the elite saw not her movements, as she slashed the neck of one of the ANBU without a thought with barely any need to ignore the sickening rip of flesh. Blood was dripping down the edge of the sword, running in droplets and steams, almost like raindrops, before any knew what had happened, and the man sank down the waters, tainting the pureness, crimson red. (Bloodied like her heart. They were no longer the innocent ones they had once been…)
Sea foam washed over the body, his lifeless eyes glancing dully at the heavens. Briefly, she wondered if he were experiencing an ordeal for all he had killed. Fizzing rang at the ANBU's feet, as if the sea foam were mocking him, saying even its life were longer than his. The woman did not care or wonder, but proceeded until the other three were dead also, leaving just her and her team mate standing there coldly, trying not to let their relationship get in the way (the missions, the betrayal, they had changed his and her bond before it had started, really)
"You…" the man said in amazement, not even noticing he was in his traditional fighting style and ready to strike, "Are you really my team mate? She was never that strong!"
The woman did not even crack a smile at his 'startling' discovery. She raised what was formerly his weapon, and motioned for him to come. It was time to rid herself of all bonds, before she could float on the sea through eons, perhaps not immortal, but ever recurring like the wind and waves. And all it took was a mocking smile and he came, to defend his pride, and towards his death (And she wonders if she really wanted it to end this way).
In the end, the woman knew they were all like sea foam, their lives nothing to the vastness to their race, the impact they made as small. Their lives were spent in vain, before the river of time washed away all traces of them forever, leaving not an artefact for curious minds that ventured into the past through words and symbols. They weren't enough to be considered tools, just an artefact to the world (for quite frankly, who would remember them after they're gone?).
And yet, defying all odds, she knew the world had changed already, through their ventures, exploits and unspoken words to those they held dear. Just like the fizzing and coolness of sea foam a hot summer day, someone had glimpsed their world, and would remember after they were gone. Their names would be lost in the seas of knowledge and history, and yet they would still be there, long after the world was dead to them, and they were dead to the world. (Their friends would remember – right?)
She thrust the blade through the man's back, before sinking down from the exhaustion of her chakra – she'd had been training for a in-exhaustively before they came to find her. Sea foam washed around her body, from the points of her toes, until slowly, even the very edge of her hair was underneath the coolness. Yes, her life had been like sea foam, sly and short-lived, always slipping though her fingers. And yet… not quite. Her body swept out into the ocean, and she wondered if she'd ever reach her namesake.