At breakfast, Nishira entered their host's home, her hands held sheaths of thick cloth. Kakashi didn't turn when she returned. He had noted she'd come back last night only minutes after him, meaning the man the night before either couldn't hack it, or she hadn't gone with him. The second thought mollified his resentment, but it didn't change anything between them.
"They refused to officiate the funeral for Zabuza and Haku." She announced as she hastily removed her shoes.
"What?" Naruto clambered up in surprise, almost knocking his bowl over.
"Naruto, finish your meal. It's not surprising, they were hired to kill a member of the village. We will give them a simple burial and be done with it."
Kakashi glanced as she slid past the table towards where their mattresses and bags were stored. He noticed the fabric slung over her arm, white and a dark blue grey. A white ribbon lay on top. Clutched in her hand under the cloth was a bag, and as she shifted, the smell of incense wafted close enough for him to smell, but it was bulkier than just simple incense.
"What are those?"
"They're robes. I'm doing the funeral."
"Can you do that?" Sakura's face looked up in interest. Nishira smiled at the earnest bright face.
"Technically yes, although I haven't done one since I was a kid, so my chanting might sound like I killed a cat." After a beat of silence and Sakura's gaze still fixed on Nishira. "Would you like to come with me?"
Sakura bobbed her head enthusiastically.
"Then it's settled, Kakashi sensei, with your permission, I'm borrowing your young kunoichi. Sakura, hurry and get dressed, I need to do something right away before we can get started. I think you'll be interested in seeing this."
Kakashi, now intrigued, eyed the two women curiously.
"I'll keep Naruto and Sasuke to guard at the bridge, that should be enough with Gato gone. What exactly do you have to do?"
"Go to the river, of course."
Unable to contain his curiosity, Kakashi accompanied Sakura in follwoing Nishira to the river side near the village temple. The bubbling of the river water crept onto the shore which was a jagged rock face that sloped down into the water. The ripples were uneven, not a slow repetition but unpredictable except that it would always return. They were lucky that the sun came out. Sakura shivered in the wind that coasted on the water, it was autumn, the water from the sea had started to cool. As they approached the shore, the shinobi saw a grouping of spectators, speckled back from the shoreline to as not to intrude. A woman wrapped herself in a purple shawl, but the tips of the fabric were snatched in the wind, flapping like a billowing end of a banner.
There near the shore stood the priest in his stark white linen robe and black ceremonial hat the came to a peak above his head. He held a folded fan in his hand and near his waist a table shaped like an altar sat with a ceramic jar and burning cedarwood. Nishira emerged wearing a white kimono and a headband across her forehead, replacing the Konoha headband. The strang markings on the white strip were hidden behind her bangs.
"Do you know the chants, child?"
"I do. Though they will not be the same as yours."
"We will do our best then. Please stand before me."
Half of team seven stood close enough to hear the chanting. The claps were well timed, and their voices carried above the rippling sounds of the river. It created a magic spell that enraptured the audience. The voices were monotone but rhythmic, dancing along the rocky shore. The incense burned and floated above the freshness of the river. The melody of the wildlife came to their ears, birds chirping, and the blip of fish that broke the water surface before diving back below. Below the superficial sounds, their voices called to the sound of the river that grounded them, like a base or foundation. A rumbling that threatened to roar but never did. Some of the spectators were swept up and began to sing, enveloping all who were there to listen, like a gentle embrace. Goosebumps rose on Sakura's arms provoking her into wrapping them around herself, even though she didn't feel the nip of the cold. Like a pulsing energy, it seemed that they were surrounded by a gentleness that connected them to each other. Kakashi looked at his hand, the one that would summon his lightning blade and felt as though something was holding it or pulling it somewhere. He remained at this spot, anchored in with everyone else who came to witness the purification of a soul.
Their chants turned to songs, and Nishira's light voice carried like a bird song as far as the wind would take it. Her face serene in a trance of it all, tipped to the skies. As the chant died down, Kakashi heard her let out a breath and whispered "mother". Nishira lowered her head and bowed to the priest before turning to the river. She didn't run but took each step delicately, avoiding the sharp stones as the fabric trailed along the ground. Any evidence of the shinobi they'd travelled with was gone, and in its stay, a young woman with soft skin, eyes focused on the water, clear enough to see the rocky bottom and the organisms that lived there. She stepped into the water, disrupting the natural flow. The cold chased her ankles but still she walked into the water until it reached her waist. The ends of her hair dipped into the water, clumping into thick strands. The water continued to flow around her, ignoring the intruder.
Kakashi watched, enraptured by her gentle form as she rose her arms with draping white sleeves into the water and cup some lifting it into the air. She spoke a few words that were snatched by the wind, and then placed her hands on her face, water dripping down her skin, the material of her dress becoming more sheer as it absorbed the water into it. She stepped farther until the water rose to her chest, before pinching her nose and dipped into it. Kakashi and Sakura watched as she did it a dozen times, before she began to come back to the shore. The fabric clung to the curves of her body, her hair slick and stringy, but there was a rosy glow to her face. She looked utterly and completely alive.
She approached the priest with a bow, who then turned to face the shrine behind them, and both bowed in sync, clapped twice and bowed again. The priest turned to her and spoke a short chant before gesturing to the crowd. They clapped in response. The sounds sparse in the wind. Kakashi came forward with a towel from her belongings and she wiped her face, but the smile remained.
"Fuck, it's cold!"
She laughed but contained the sound when the priest's eyes narrowed at her.
"Alright, let's get out of here so I can warm up and change."
As they walked away from the riverside, back to Tazuna's, Sakura walked alongside Nishira, watching as she dripped with every step.
"What were you doing?"
"It's a purification ritual, to invite the Kami into you and cleanse the impurities so I can do the ritual. They use very, very cold water to do so. If you ask me, they should do it with warm or hot water, because right now I feel like I'm going to shiver forever."
"Kami?"
"The spirits, deities, whatever metaphysical force that exists out there beyond us."
Sakura looked down, lost in her own thoughts before emerging with a hum of excitement accompanying her.
"So, what's next?"
"Let me get warm first, but after that, we'll tend to the bodies."
"I've never seen a dead body before. Isn't it creepy and gross to touch them? What about diseases? And bugs?"
Kakashi watched as Nishira's eyes softened at the young shinobi.
"The body is a home for the spirit, Sakura. We must honour the home as we honour their spirit. They lived. These ceremonies aren't for the dead, they're for the living. They exist to remind us that life is short and to live our best lives. They also remind us of the ancestors who came before us and what they did to influence our lives. Some examples are when you honour your previous hokages back home. And think about what they did to build your village and how they shaped the culture we have. We may be cleaning the bodies to bury, but we do so to allow their spirits to move to their next home, while we remain here."
Sakura pondered this again with devout thoughtfulness, her hand resting on her dainty chin.
"My grandmother used to tell me that I would be a great shinobi. My parents didn't want me to do it, even though I begged. but she convinced them to let me go and now I'm here. She's where I get my hair from and my name."
"Then today we honour your grandmother for her love for you and inspiration for you and the legacy she gifted you."
"What about you, Nishira? Who do you honour?"
Nishira's face fell slightly, before brightening almost superficially.
"Me? Oh well, I guess I honour my mother. She was the head priestess back home. She was kind and wonderful and very, very wild. She loved every minute of life, even on her worst days, she'd find things to be grateful for. She gave the best hugs, and I think the kami within her is in the wind even now. She would have been so proud of me, and then immediately lectured me for my poor and lazy chanting in the next breath." Nishira giggled, putting the wet sleeve to her mouth.
"I'm so sorry about your mom."
"Thank you, Sakura. It happened a long time ago. But I feel like she's always with me, so I don't get much time to miss her."
Sakura stood outside the building where they were housing the bodies. It was near to the temple, but they couldn't be too close. Her nerves made her shoulders tense. Unsure of whether she would go in, Sakura imagined the dead bodies in her mind. Decaying and filled with scads of bugs that would explode when she would touch them. She shivered at the thought. Behind her a gentle hand landed on her shoulder.
"Sakura, you know you don't have to do this, I could make Kakashi sensei do it instead, you could simply watch."
Sakura looked up the face of the woman who spoke so gently. The smile was comforting and gentle, and something in Sakura relaxed into Nishira's touch. She watched as Nishira stepped forward, the trailing of her draping white sleeves was just as gentle as her steps. Her hair tied back with a starched white ribbon and hakama coloured like a deep storm cloud that trailed along the stony path. Just as she was about to enter, a small gathering of people wearing mourning black emerged. The elderly lady at the front sniffled into a tissue, helped down the steps by a young man old enough to be her son. Nishira immediately recognized her as the wife of one of the bridge workers who had the misfortune of arriving before Nishira that morning and found themselves at the end of Zabuza's sword.
"Mrs. Higadate. I'm sorry to intrude in your grief. I worked with your husband at the bridge."
The ladies took in the young priestess before them. The woman's puffy eyes blinked, and she didn't even try to force a polite smile, her thin lips quivering.
"I don't understand. You worked at the bridge with Rani?"
"Yes, I am one of the shinobi here with Tazuna, but I was a priestess many years ago. So, I am only helping with the funeral arrangements."
The older woman give her a small smile and reached for her hands with hers, frail from the passage of time and disease.
"What's your name child?"
When Nishira provided hers, the smile reached her eyes.
"Oh yes, he told me about you, said you were a good one. He would be happy that you are here. Will you be there today?"
"I can if you'd like me to."
"He'd like that very much."
Nishira bowed her head, and the family members went to go to the temple.
Nishira let them go on before turning to the building. Sakura couldn't help but follow close on her heels up the steps into a clean room, sparse with little furniture except the tables holding the corpses of Zabuza and Haku, still bloody and dressed in their torn clothes. Nishira pulled two cloths and bowls and began by wiping Zabuza's lips with one, before moving to do the same to Haku.
"What are you doing?"
"I am giving them one last taste of water, after this, we can clean them to purify them for their journey."
Silently, they did. Sakura watched and with gentle guiding, stripped the bodies of their torn clothes. Sakura picked up a snowy cloth and began gently cleaning the skin. Together the women bundled them in white robes, anointing them in a clear oil. And when they'd finished, Nishira supervised as they placed the corpses into coffins. Nishira chanted to the open sky, and Sakura heard her announce to the spirit world that their spirits were ready.
"These spirits who have no family shrine will now be part of your family. I offer them to you to guide them to their home, together in peace."
She looked to Sakura.
"We'll do the best we can for them, hopefully that will be enough for the spirit world. But they're probably a bunch of old judgemental bastards."
The wink she gave Sakura invoked a giggle from the young shinobi.
It wasn't long before they were lowering the coffins into the ground by a cliff that overlooked the village and beyond it a river that led to the ocean. Kakashi stabbed Zabuza's great sword deep into the ground behind the marker for Zabuza's grave, paying respects for the man he'd faced in battle.
Guiltily, he enjoyed the view the gentleness his older student was portraying, a warmer side. Seeing the traditional robes had not discouraged his thoughts about her, in fact they'd had the reverse. His mind was invaded by the idea of ruining that pureness, her panting flush face, the robe slipping off her shoulder and displaying her bountiful chest. She would gasp his name. The anger of seeing her in the assassin's arms, playing with him, getting back at him for their last discussion. Kakashi understood and felt he deserved the retribution, but it played in his fantasy, to hear her beg for him, like she had before.
She spoke his name, and Kakashi's dirty daydream vanished as Nishira knelt facing the face of the graves and looked up at him as though she inspected an answer.
"I'm sorry Nishira, I was... distracted. Can you please repeat the question."
"I was just asking how the boys are doing at the bridge?"
"Oh, the opening is tomorrow. The plan is to leave as soon as you're done with the funeral."
"Oh." She looked down at the two markers, all the prayers had been said and the offerings done for the spirit world to guide them across. Nishira stood and gave them one last bow as an honour to them. She prayed that they would be in the spirit world together.
The morning came quickly it seemed. It brought torn feelings about their departure. Team seven gathered around the graves built for Zabuza and Haku. The large sword attached to the cross for Zabuza. The traditional food placed at the base of the headstone. Naruto's hand reached for it, only for Sakura to slap his thieving hand.
"What sneaky, greedy trick are you up to now? You eat an offering, you'll be punished by the gods!"
Nishira ruffled around in her pack and pulled out a few extra buns she'd made, handing one to Naruto to his delight. Sakura's thoughts were elsewhere until she voiced the question burning there.
"But still, Kakashi sensei, I can't help wondering. Were those two right about what a ninja should be?"
"A shinobi shouldn't be concerned with a reason for their own existence. It is important merely that we exist as a tool for our homeland to use in whatever way they need. That's as true for us in Konohagakure as it's for ninja anywhere else."
Naruto frowned.
"Is that really what becoming a full-fledged ninja's gonna be about? I don't like the sound of it!"
Sasuke looked at their sensei.
"Do you really feel that way, Kakashi sensei?"
"Well, no. And that's why all we ninja live our lives with that ideal always bubbling beneath the surface of our minds, disturbing us. Like it did Zabuza and the boy."
Naruto and Sakura looked at the graves in contemplation, before Naruto turned back.
"That's it. I've made up my mind! I am going to create my own nindo – my own ninja path. My own destiny!"
The four shinobi stood outside the completed bridge, staring up at the arch that sat at the mouth of it. Tazuna and his family stood by to see them off.
"Thanks to you, our bridge has finally been completed, but it's going to be awfully dull around here once you're gone."
Kakashi gave a nod.
"We've enjoyed your hospitality."
Naruto waved his hand. "No problemo Tazuna, my man! We'll come back to play with you again sometime!"
Inari's lip trembled.
"You'd better!"
Naruto's lip also started to tremble, but he resisted to onset of tears gathering in his eyes.
"Inari, don't let it get you down. It's okay to cry if you really want!"
"I'm not gonna cry! B-but Naruto, hey 'big brother' you can cry, go ahead!"
Naruto turned away from Inari, to hide his struggle.
"Me? No way. See you."
Inari couldn't hold it back anymore, the tears started to fall. Unknown to him, Naruto silently blubbered now that he was away from Inari's sight. Sakura observed the two boys and simply thought to herself Boneheads!
Tazuna stood on his completed bridge, while Inari continued to cry as their friends slowly walked out of view in the distance.
"That boy touched little Inari's heart, and Inari touched the hearts of all the people in our city. Naruto built the bridge that eventually carried us all to hope and courage! And speaking of bridges, we still have to officially dedicate this one. And there's only one name that will truly fit. How about… the Great Naruto Bridge?"