(A/N: The chapter title is stolen from Lord of the Rings, which I also do NOT own.)
Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto, never will.
She wandered in mist. Clouds of wandering white wrapped her too tightly. Shadows given just enough substance to cut her with gossamer touches. Oddly enough, she didn't feel lost. The fog kept her from seeing what was right or true, but it also shielded her and gave her a place to be. A shadow drifted close and she flinched involuntarily. The mist obscured her view again.
Gaara hadn't waited for the doctor's full analysis. He had asked if the curse mark was permanent. The nurse who had taken charge of the girl assured him it was badly linked with its creator, that whoever placed the seal was probably inexperienced in the art. Though he couldn't be sure the curse was the source of her pain, it seemed like the right thing to do to remove it, so he asked that the nurse did so.
He left. There was no expectation for him to stay. If he returned, it would be only to question her, but after surgery, visitors were denied for five days.
It was early morning, and the sun chased away the remaining blush of dawn in the sky. Gaara wondered why he felt so compelled to go back. She had, after all, tried to kill him, and it was an act of unnecessary generosity of him to serve her such a favour, ridding her of the curse mark.
It had been five days, and he'd told no one. It wasn't in his nature to talk gratuitously, and neither of his siblings seemed suspicious. Gaara looked at the setting sun, and was reminded of the kunoichi's nonchalant conversation before the battle began.
The young Kazekage stood before the hospital, not really knowing why. When he entered the hospital, with its clean lines and scent of antiseptic, he almost walked right back out. But the nurse on duty was the same one he'd met that night, and she greeted him brightly.
"Back to see your friend?" she smiled knowingly, to Gaara's utter confusion. "She's down that hall, fifth door on the left." Gaara walked slowly, trying not to see the other patients lying broken and still on their beds. The Chuunin Exams were pulling in clients like crazy, and still the final round was in two weeks.
"GAARA!" There was only one shinobi who screamed the Kazekage's name like that, and it was…
"Naruto? What brings you here?" Gaara waited for the blond to catch up. He caught his breath, then straightened and grinned.
"Ah, Moegi outdid herself in the second round. I came to visit her." Gaara didn't know who that was, but he nodded politely. Naruto peered at Gaara inquisitively. "Well, anyway, why are you here too?" Gaara stopped. They had reached the fifth door on the left. He opened it and let that answer Naruto's question.
As the dying light cast shadows in the silent room, rays of sun touched the girl's face and turned her auburn hair red as the curse mark she carried. Or did she? Bandages hid the result of the operation. She slept, eyelids fluttering erratically.
"Who is that?" Naruto whispered, as though she could hear him. As the Kazekage started to say he didn't know, he remembered what the kunoichi had told him before attacking, the name floating to his lips naturally.
"Kimiko is her name, I think. She's from the Hidden Cloud Village." Naruto started to ask another question, but Gaara held up his hand. The girl was stirring.
The Raikage, leader of Kumogakure, had called her, a mere genin, to his office without her team. This was either really good or really bad. Kimiko knew she should be nervous, flustered, gracious, but emotions were already failing her. She stood stiffly and waited. The Raikage, tenting his fingers, talked slowly and surely.
"Shall we skip the formalities, then?" She didn't nod or make any action to denote her agreement, but he continued with a harder edge to his voice. "There have been whispers of unease and lies between countries. Shinobi are raised to protect a country, essentially, but in such cases, it becomes a matter of destroying another country. And when talented shinobi standouts don't get the attention they deserve, they may not fight to their fullest extent to defend their country."
Translation: Leaders are pissed, there may be some more wars in the making, and I need good shinobi to help me crush opposing forces.
"Some genin, such as yourself, have been mentored by jounin who recognise a greater potential, at this early stage, than other genin. Some genin even receive specialized training to develop their skills further. Your jounin mentor tells me you have more determination and more prowess, in all aspects, than any other genin in your age group. And also, you have nothing else to focus on, nothing left to lose." This was why she kept her emotions under such strict control. She satisfied herself with glaring at him. "So, I would like to extend to you an invitation to be given one-on-one intensive training, in return for your complete obedience and success. It is a great chance to learn new jutsu and find strength you'll never obtain on your own."
Translation: You seem like the horse to bet on. If you stay chained to my will for the rest of my life, I'll make you stronger.
Kimiko wondered what he meant by success. If she failed, would he stop the training or punish her? And what if she didn't want to be obedient?
An emotion was surfacing, and it felt like panic. The Raikage wanted to make her into a tool, a weapon wielded by those too weak to enforce their will alone. What then would become of her life? Could she allow her existence to fade into something so absurdly submissive?
"I appreciate your offer. It is an honour," Kimiko started, remembering her manners. "But I am disinclined to accept." She bowed her head slightly and turned to leave.
"How vexing. I was hoping we could do this the easy way," the Raikage sighed, and the kunoichi saw figures melt from the shadows. Metal edges winked in the flickering candlelight. It was an ambush!
Four chuunin later, she struggled against ropes that broke her skin on contact. The Raikage glided closer, his face an eerie mask in the dim lighting. She couldn't move her arms or legs, and he was getting nearer.
When he drew her blood, she screamed, an animal, terrible sound that hurt her throat and soothed her mind. It wasn't the pain. It was the physical bond he was forging, the virtual chain he was leading her on. She screamed for her lost freedom.
She was awake, but she didn't open her eyes. It was easier to wait in the darkness. Suddenly she heard something - a whisper, and her eyes flew open.
She was in a starched white bed, in an unfamiliar room. She remembered fighting - losing to Gaara, the Kazekage, and then someone was using the curse. Her limbs were heavy, so she just turned her head.
Gaara, the Kazekage, stood in the room, shadowed by a blond shinobi, both watching her unblinkingly. She waited for one of them to speak. It didn't take long.
"Hi, my name is Naruto Uzumaki," said the blond, reaching out as if to shake her hand. "How do you feel?" Kimiko looked at the hand, then at his honest blue eyes, and again at the hand. Even if she'd wanted to shake it, moving seemed too much of a nuisance. She never got to sleep in, and from the silver cast of the moon, she could tell it had been a late slumber indeed.
"You have some questions to answer," the Kazekage reminded her. The Uzumaki boy retreated, eyeing Gaara curiously. After receiving an icy stare in response, Naruto Uzumaki darted out the door.
The moon faded behind a dark cloud. But stars still winked and flickered beyond the grasp of night.
"You didn't kill me." No, he'd brought her to a hospital. He'd tried to heal her. What a contrary man.
"I still need answers from you," he replied seriously. Kimiko struggled to sit up. He didn't help her, and she was glad.
"They'll kill me if I say anything," she stated truthfully.
"Will they?" Kimiko blinked. She noticed the bandage around her collarbone - around the mark. She gently peeled the cloth off, and what she saw astounded her to no end. A faint scar, in the shape of a comma, sat where before her blood had coloured a seal.
There was silence. She found her voice, but it shook.
"Thank you." It was the hardest thing she'd ever had to say; especially to the man she'd hunted and quite seriously tried to kill. Or, in the end, she had. She remembered the pain that rewarded her moment of question, and her stomach fluttered when she thought of her new freedom of choice.
She noticed the smooth fibrous feel of bandaging on her leg, not the ones she usually wrapped around them, but the hospital variety. Pulling it from under the covers, she bit her lip in pain. She'd forgotten about that short sting before the real pain began.
"What was your plan?" Gaara spoke again. Kimiko weighed her options. Without the curse mark, she'd never have to return to Kumogakure, but should she remain loyal to the village her father died defending? Then again, she was probably already scorned as a traitor, and listed for assassination.
"Kumo…was planning on attacking Konoha by infiltrating it under the guise of the Chuunin Exams. When we heard the Kazekage was coming earlier, the leader of our operation - and the Raikage - recognised you as a threat, possibly more so than the Hokage herself. And it was known Suna and Konoha were strong allies, so you would probably assist in the protection of the village. That was something we couldn't afford. So, because of my abilities, it was decided I would be best suited to kill you."
"Why did you attack alone? It would've been easier with your team," Gaara pointed out. Kimiko almost smiled - almost.
"They can't put themselves in danger, according to the Raikage. Basically, they are able to activate the curse mark, so they just watch me do the dirty work and make sure I don't fail or falter." She stopped and thought of something. "I guess the team never really was a three-man cell. It was a formality, a façade from the start."
"Like a horse and its master," Gaara muttered. He was right, of course. She was doing the work while they spurred her on by whipping her.
The cloud covering the moon slid away, lighting the room in silver. The Kazekage left, and the kunoichi remained, feeling helpless in her weakened state. She'd felt like this only twice before, thanks to the Raikage, and to her own stupidity.
"I know that you're all excited to try these new lightning-jutsu on your own. But you can't." The class whined and objected, except for the withdrawn girl in the back. "Without someone more experienced to keep the lightning from drawing more chakra and getting out of control, you might be electrocuted." Suddenly the class was silent. "Dismissed."
As children ran off, talking excitedly amongst each other, the little girl in the back rose and began the long journey home. She saw parents pick up their child at school, and her heart seemed to contract painfully. She wouldn't let them see it. She was learning how to keep her emotions under control.
The day was still young, though the cloudy sky made it appear dark, and the empty house waiting for her was not such a pleasant thought. So the young Kimiko wandered aimlessly, until she reached a fenced-in training ground.
At this point, her brain was working on a different level. Strange thoughts crowded in her mind, urging her to enter the enclosure.
"If I can perform this jutsu…and live," the little girl murmured, "then I will know there is still a reason for me to exist." Without people who cared for her, she had begun to feel like they had left her behind for some long journey, one that she needed to join. She stood at the exact centre of the enclosure.
Inhale, exhale. Her breathing was louder than the wind. Slowly, she formed hand seals, making sure they were correct. And…
Light blazed around her, the grey sky crackling with lightning. Her eyes widened, the reflection of jagged lines shining on them. As blue chakra swirled and screamed, thunder rumbled in the background, and the grey skies released the storm they had held. Now electricity - real, pure lightning - twined with her chakra, braiding the two energies into white-hot demons that roared and rocked the sky.
She screamed as her loose grip on that power slipped, and the lightning was drawn to the highest point in that flat area - if only she'd stood a bit closer to the fence - filling her body with heat and pain. Her hair sizzled, her skin dried and cracked, her eyes felt like they were burning out of their sockets. As the lightning turned her blood to fire, she fell and lay in the rain, water cooling her blazing body.
…
She sat in the wheelchair. Well, she'd survived. But this punishment could be worse than death. Her existence was already fading. The doctors had confirmed her fears after her first day in the hospital - she was a paraplegic at seven years old. They told her she'd never walk again. They also told her she was lucky to be alive.
Lucky? She was trapped in a body that no longer felt like her own. She felt the presence of her legs, and yet no amount of determination allowed her to move them. Lucky? They were lucky she had no use for emotions, or she would've ripped their hearts out right then and there.
This absolute helplessness was so overwhelming, she drowned in it. Every night she lay awake until her mind was so exhausted from torturing her, she fell asleep. Kimiko, the kunoichi with no legs. She'd never had talent for genjutsu, so what were her chances of being a shinobi now? Before, it had seemed unimportant, but now she only dreamed of following her father's footsteps. Not in reference to sleep, though. She never had dreams, only nightmares.
She was staying at the hospital for the first month. Only four days in, it was already driving her insane. She couldn't do anything. Staring at her legs, she wondered…and scratched her right leg with one fingernail. The skin reacted, but she felt nothing.
Tears wouldn't come. She wheeled over to the bed where she had to be hoisted up to go to sleep. Under the pillow, she kept her weapons, in the kunai pouch the nurse thought she'd gotten rid of. Drawing one out, she slashed at her legs with the kunai, crying now as she desperately tried to wake herself up from this nightmare. Blood welled out of wounds that were just phantoms to her. Any pain was better than no feeling at all.
She hunched over, sobbing uncontrollably, her knuckles turning white as she squeezed the kunai tighter. Then - a prick, just the kunai glancing off her thigh. But she'd felt it - she'd felt that tiny sting, and as the blood raised itself, she gasped. The rest of her injuries were stinging, too, and she nearly fainted in shock, in relief.
Perhaps there was a reason for her to live, after all.
Gaara was there when she was released. He had to see this through, seeing as he'd started it. Kimiko had just walked out of the hospital, stopping when she saw him.
"Where are you going?" he asked, not unkindly. The girl opened her mouth, then closed it. She appeared to be just realizing something, and shrugged sadly. Gaara knew what she must be thinking. Kumo marked her a traitor, Konoha saw her as an enemy, and with her past loyalties and bordering on missing-nin status, she couldn't enter another country permanently without being watched like a hawk. What was the point of freeing her from a curse seal if she was just going to be monitored and restrained again?
Gaara couldn't just leave her to wander the world alone. Or float, unsure of where to stay, unable to stay anywhere. It was just too cruel. It was too close to his childhood memories of abandonment and heart-wrenching loneliness.
"I can grant you citizenship in Suna." Had he just said those words? Kimiko stared at him in the same bewilderment he felt. She nodded, conveniently mute. "Do you need to bring anything?"
She actually laughed; it was a harsh, bitter sound that sounded more like a cough. It was more genuine than one born of happiness, though, and it was strange and nice to see her revealing her hidden emotions.
"Even if I did, how could I get anything from my house, or with my team mates?" For some reason, the word 'house' stood out in that sentence, even though she had placed more sarcasm on 'team mates.' It wasn't the way she'd said it, it was just that she hadn't said 'home.'
Maybe she could find a home in Suna, one with much more value than just a house.
Decisions made unconsciously, unsuspecting of the future presented by these choices. These decisions are what steer us down the road to our eventual doom, whether it is near or far, affected by the people you meet, you refuse to meet, everything you accept or refuse to accept. Affected by the choices you make because it makes sense to you, at that time. These decisions reflected by each grain of sand, and as they were made, the sand fell. The hourglass was uneven. The end was closer than the beginning.
YES! Second chapter is up! (but now things will probably slow down, don't get your hopes up.) And sorry for the slight emoness in this chapter. I couldn't help it.