We are fish in front of the waterfall.
We are insects inside the cage.
We are the ruins of the billows,
The skull on the crosier,
The force of the torrent and the whale that drinks it.
We are the five-horned bull.
We are the fire-breathing monster.
And the screaming children.
Oh, we are
poisoned by the moonlight.
-Tite Kubo
"I met a girl today."
Saya languidly sat on a tree branch, one leg kicking back and forth over the edge. The wood chimes tangled with one another, their sounds like deep chuckles against the afternoon wind. Something like a sunset drifted across the purple sky, an echo of nostalgia and sweet things permeating the summer air. Jin sat against the trunk, the small, uneven, doll-like shrines around his legs housing little holes for fiddler and stone crabs, all hidden from sight. His arms were wrapped around his knee's, a dreary-eyed expression coating his features.
"You know what she told me? She told me she never wanted to die. She said she wanted to live forever." She chuckled, it's sound almost lost to the waves.
"Tch." Jin snorted. "Kids shouldn't be talking like that. They're too young to be thinking about things like death."
Saya didn't answer, instead she leaned heavily against the trunk as well.
"Saya, do you remember when we first met?"
A crooked smirk found its way on her face, nearly working into another laugh.
"Yeah, you were a little monster. First thing you said to me was, 'Who wants to be friends with a girl?'" She folded her fingers. "Showed you. That punch to the face changed your mind real quick."
"You shouldn't be talking, Koneko-chan." He smirked at the old joke, glancing upwards to see her playful smile. Their eyes met, amber against coal.
Saya tilted her head back, closing her eyes with a content breath. The breeze played with a few strands of her short hair, tickling her nose.
"Jin, do you know why trees have bark?"
Jin quirked a brow.
"That's a weird question. Why do you want to know?"
She shrugged lightly, folding her hands behind her head.
"I met this old woman the other day. It was while me and the guys were on our way back from the encampment, in a small fishing village. I had some time to kill and I was craving ice cream, so I decided to walk around and I ended up in her shop, the old woman's." Saya felt a sudden pull of drowsiness tug from behind her eyes.
"Is all you think about food, fatso?"
"Shut it, boke. I'm not the one who goes around borrowing other peoples things and never giving them back, freeloader."
"Why don't you come down here and say-"
"Anyway," she interrupted him, "As I was saying. The obachan had a bunch of odd stuff that caught my attention, but before I could look at much of anything, she asked me that question. I found her sitting at this little table with a card in her hand, so I thought that maybe she was a fortune teller as well as a shop keeper? Anyway, she asked me that question but I couldn't really answer it." Saya shrugged, looking up to the sky.
Jin didn't answer, and for a moment she thought maybe he'd fallen asleep at her explanation or was still red under the collar about what she'd said. Kicking her shoe off, she aimed right at his head and launched it.
"Damn it!" Jin rubbed the sore spot, scowling down at heavy geta sandal before glaring lazily at Saya. "What was that for?"
"Oh, I thought you fell asleep." She said convincingly.
"Tch." He continued to rub his head. "You really want an answer?"
"That's why I asked you, dobe."
"Idiot."
"Loser."
"Fatso."
Another sandal collided with the top of his skull, making him fall forward slightly. He muttered incoherently under his breath, soothing the throb shuddering along his scalp. Minutes passed in silence as the question remained unanswered, only a distant laughter carried by the breeze haunting their ears.
"To protect."
"What?" Saya frowned but did not open her eyes.
"The bark is there so it can protect the tree. It's like… a knight in brown, unasked and unrewarded for its protection. It's there because it is, because it's naturally supposed to be."
Saya sat peaceably, soaking in his words and running her fingers through them. Jin always was a romantic, but there was something sad about the way he had said it.
"Dramatic, but it's better than the answer I came up with." She conceded.
"What was is you told her?"
"Meh, none of your business."
"Why, too embarrassed to tell me, Saya?"
She chuckled breathily, lulling again from a deep drowse draping over her. There was something calming and all together pacifying about the dusk, something that pulled her away from all the paperwork waiting for her in her room and all the terribly horrifying things that loved to tease her.
Shinobi endure…that's what she'd been told as a child. Despite the dead and the lost, shinobi endure and endure silently. Was that what Jin was referring to, or was it something else? As this thought occurred, a queasy clench gripped her stomach, twirling her head into dizzying tumults.
"Ne, Jin," she called out, "Do you feel that?" The air was stiflingly thick with a heavy musk and reeking with a scent she couldn't recognize. "Jin?"
She opened her eyes and was met with purple night. Taken aback, she searched the base of the tree for her companion but found only empty space and a lonely chill.
"Jin?" she looked out to the beach but only saw dark waves of a void too deep to comprehend. It was at this moment that Saya realized there was no wind, no clatter of the chimes, and no sound other than a deep breathing that hummed as if someone were suffocating. "Jin?" She looked back down at the small shrines when she saw movement, but it wasn't Jin that she found. A rather large crab scuttled out from one of the houses, slowly making its way near the tree. When it stopped, its eyes popped out from its shell.
They weren't eyes.
What were they?
Saya gasped, holding a palm against her mouth to keep from doing any more. The crab's face was distorted, screwed into something grotesque and unnatural. Bubbles curled around its mouth, falling onto the ground and sticking to its legs as it moved forward with deliberate slides. More crawled from their small enclosures, circling around the trunk, bubbling and hissing and glaring hatefully up at Saya.
There was something else too. She couldn't really see, not with all the shadows unfurling around her, but shapes in the darkness took form and began crawling up towards her. Their eyes were a sickly green, almost mint, and they cooed loose, incoherent sounds. Their movements were irregular, jerky and strained, as if it physically hurt them to move at all.
She couldn't understand what was happening, but she knew she had to climb higher. She had to get away, as far away as possible before the shapes caught up with her. Without thinking more, she began climbing the tree, pulling herself up each branch and heading higher towards the desolate sky. No matter how fast she climbed, though, the shadows seemed to gain on her with terrifying speed.
It was as she heaved one hand over a particularly thin branch that a round object caught her attention. It was just next to her face, and once she recognized what it was she couldn't help but lose her grip.
A persimmon.
The knowledge struck her, snatching away her breath before she could right herself. She fell backwards and slipped away into the embracing ocean of eyes and bubbles, feeling arms run along her limbs and little pricks bite into her sides. The breathing flooded her ears before stopping altogether, leaving only the sound of munching to sate her wonder.
Crunch.
Crunch.
Crunch.
Little by little she felt herself being nibbled away by tiny mouths, only the thought of the persimmon in her mind.
You mustn't carelessly climb persimmon trees, Saya.
The brief sensation of being eaten alive, her guts being slurped up and her flesh being ripped away, would have garbled her understanding if not for the thought of the persimmon.
If a persimmon tree grows on my grave, will you kindly climb up it and be swallowed by Hell?
"Misa…" she whispered soundlessly. What were persimmons good for?
Eating?
Was something eating her?
Misa…
She smirked cynically.
"Ja ne."
Crunch.
Crunch.
Crunch.
Saya's eyes fluttered open, the darkness of wherever she was comforting considering the sensitivity of her headache. Well, it was more of a migraine, if she wanted to be finicky about it. Seriously, how hammered had she gotten last night?
She pressed on her eyes hard, catching bright flashes behind her lids, synched with the pulsating ache. The oppressing scent of musk and damp wood infiltrated her nose, nearly making her cough or sneeze. It wasn't bad enough that her head was split open and her stomach was inside out, but now she was in some strange, stinky place as well?
Ugh, of course she'd wake up like this. When hadn't she for the last few years?
But of course she was used to it, though, that didn't mean she liked it. She'd never actually enjoyed drinking before she was persecuted, in fact, the only time she did drink was when her anger got the best of her. She faintly recalled one time when she'd gotten into a heated discussion with Daichi over the matter of inhibiting hostage retrieval missions when requested by smaller villages. That frustrating old man was such a narcissistic bastard, it wasn't like the villages weren't paying them for their work. According to him, such missions were beneath them, and should be dealt with by local authorities. She hadn't let the issue go before she punched a hole in the wall and threw a vase, leaving the meeting in a flurry of cotton summer wear.
That night, she went on a binge that was so bad, none of her captains dared to even think of treading within a relative distance of her room the next day. In fact, the only reason she'd gotten out of bed at all was because Jin had dumped a pail of dead fish on her, to which she promptly raced to the side of the balcony and heaved whatever was left in her stomach.
At the thought, her stomach rolled as something curdled, scrunching up her insides while pushing bile up her throat.
"Ugh, I think I'm gonna hurl." She moaned, slowly rubbing her hand across her face. "I feel like shit."
"You look like shit."
The all too familiar graveled voice nearly yanked her up into a sitting position. Then, with another groan, she peeked one eye open.
"Hoshigake," she started, noticing his hulking form sitting against a wall, "What happened?"
A terrible, quivering pain shot through her again, this time making her grip her stomach. Amongst the pain and waves of queasiness, she realized that she was only covered in dressing and bandages, otherwise making her shirtless. With a heave, she managed to drag herself upright, cringing when her abdominal muscles tightened and a spasm twisted tightly. The bland taste of blood coated the inside of her mouth, but the memories behind the pain and blood were still fuzzy.
"What happened?" She asked again softly, tracing the pads of her finger tips along the lines of the bandages unconsciously.
"You got your ass handed to you is what happened." He grunted, crossing his arms with a frown. "You're troublesome, onna. You have this kid to thank that you're alive." He nodded towards Minori, who sat politely huddled just behind her. She looked over her shoulder, perusing him over with a tired glance.
"Huh. I think I've seen you before…" She trailed off. "Oh, you're that mushroom-faced guy from this morning."
"M-mushroom-faced?" He stuttered with a blush.
"Ne, did you know you scrunch up your nose when you pout like that? It might get stuck if you do it too much."
"H-hai, sotaicho-sama!" He immediately attempted to straighten his expression, though, the deep rouge that dusted on either cheek remained.
She swept her fingers along the dusty floor, rubbing her fingers together curiously. While her eyes trailed along the floor, certain details arose in her consciousness. The table beside her, nicks adorning its sides and a particularly long scar running along the center, was covered with small novels curtained in sand from years of neglect. Slowly, cautiously, she noticed other pieces around her.
An oak chest, opened and filled with rumpled clothes, sat near Kisame, as did three katanas which leaned against the side of the trunk.
One was sheathed in a black-wrapped scabbard, a star sapphire pommel just visible beneath the black tape. The other was a snakeskin citrine, laced with a crème ribbon around its ornament.
While these two were simply decorated, the third was rather unique. The casing was a peridot color, swirled cloud designs outlined in tufts of blooming smoke. The handle, taped in black, had fire-red wood encasing the guard, a bit wider than the others. The three swords were strapped together, as if meant to be worn at the same time by whomever wielded them.
The walls, tacked up with maps with red marker lines and pins, were lined with wear and soot. Scrolls piled along the edges of the room, too, making the small space more cluttered than it needed to be.
"How did I get here?" She asked softly.
How could a simple thing like a room make her feel so cold?
"S-sotaicho-sama…" Minori uttered, leaning forward on his knees, "You were wounded in battle against Sato Katsutoshi. I intervened when I saw Uchiha-san engaging in battle as well, distracting Katsutoshi-sama in order to enable you both safe passage. I brought you to this place because no one will think to look here." He exhaled in a rush.
"Oh?" She said, distracted. "Why's that?"
"Eto…that is, no one would expect you here, because it would be too obvious of a hiding place otherwise." He fidgeted. "At least, that is what I thought."
"Un, that's pretty good."
"T-thank you!" He shouted before clamming up again. "I mean, thank you. I just hope I am right." His slight smile turned down, his hands fisting against his pants. "Sotaicho-sama, your wound was very grave. Katsutoshi-sama administered a retrograde paralytic and hallucinogenic into your system. The dose was dangerously high and made blood clotting difficult, and with the extent of your wound, I had trouble keeping it closed." He shifted, shyly raising his eyes to her dull ones. They looked like glass, and he wondered whether or not she was actually listening to him.
"I was able to sear most of it shut, the stitching will help the healing that my chakra jump-started within you. Your reuptake should double and allow you to flush out any remnants of the drug. While you'll live, Sotaicho-sama, it would be bad if you fought any time soon."
She sat back on her hands.
"Don't call me that."
"Eh?"
"Don't call me by that title," she repeated, "I'm not that person anymore."
"H-hai, Sotaich- I mean, Sayuri-dono."
She sighed heavily, rubbing her head.
"Ne, where's the Uchiha?"
"In the other room." Kisame responded. "Can't you tell, or was all that garbage about locating chakra signatures just talk?"
"You shouldn't treat a woman too harshly, Hoshigake. They have terrible ways of retaliating."
"Tch, what're you gonna do, scratch me with your claws, Koneko-chan?" He opened one eye with a grin.
The pet name slammed into her. Her face remained impassive, but her heart rammed heavily in her chest. The nightmare replayed in her mind, as did the sounds of crunching bones and ripping flesh. Waving it away, she peered over at him with a sour frown.
"Did you catch the jinchuuriki?"
"That's another stupid question, onna."
"I'll take that as a yes, then. How did it go?"
"Heh, piece of cake."
"It did not seem that way when I arrived." The shoji door slid open to reveal a stoic Yin, her white kimono ghostly in the expanse of midnight.
"What do you know, bozu?"
She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Saya found little tension between Kisame and the girl, so her shoulders relaxed. Though she didn't know the situation, Saya knew the girl was obviously not here to make trouble. There was nothing foreboding about her presence, only her usual chill.
Yin and Fuu were Katsutoshi's subordinates, his henchmen, his little demons for pulling together sinews of flesh to prod and poke.
Yin looked much the same as she had when Saya first met her, though the girl had been very young at the time. She had always reminded Saya of a porcelain doll, fragility and endurance twined together to form a ghost of winter. It hadn't been Saya's intention for either one of them to take part in any combat. It was Katsu who recruited them before Saya even left.
The girls had been found roaming together near an area swarmed with bandits, their clothes horribly ruined with both grit and blood. Saya and her fraction had been returning from a brief campaign when they'd discovered the girls, and after questioning them, they'd been taken into protective custody and treated kindly back at the estate by Saya personally. After making arrangements for them, though, Katsutoshi showed an interest in them, especially after their bloodlines had been exposed.
Would they have been better off if Saya'd never found them?
"Yin." Saya addressed her, leaning back against the table.
"Imatsura-san, I'm glad to see that you survived."
Saya couldn't help grinning as the girl made herself a seat before her, her ever-stoic expression a semi-welcome reminder of the past.
"Yeah, so am I. Tell me, though, just why it is that you're here, hm?"
She heard Kisame snort and thought that, if it weren't for the situation, she'd have loved to shove his foot into his mouth. The thought of him made her blood suddenly boil. After all, it had been his fault that she'd cracked in front of Katsu before. His quips and side comments were fun when she had the patience for them, but dealing with the sarcasm in this setting was maddening. If he didn't shut it, she was going to filet the damn fish and roast him over a fire.
"There are some questions that require explanation. This is not one of them." She stared Saya in the eye.
"Whatever, Yin. If you're not here to raise the alarm, then it's not my problem. What's the Uchiha doing in the other room?"
"Uchiha-san is placing several genjutsus on the jinchuuriki, just in case he happens to wake up." Minori fingered the folds on his hakama, lowering his eyes with a nervous twitch.
So, they'd captured their target and were out of danger for the time being. As nice as that was, Saya still felt as if there was a coil in her stomach, wrung tight and tense and ready to spring.
A heavy sense of worthlessness settled on her shoulders, so heavy that she actually fell forward, flat on her face. She groaned dramatically, and continued moaning in expressive heaves.
"Sayuri-dono!"
Minori reached out worriedly towards her, but Kisame's response kept him from reevaluating her wound.
"I didn't take you for being a sore loser, onna." He closed his eyes. "Knock it off."
"Idmand looshin, bfut he cheated." She slurred against the wood, a slight puddle of drool forming under her face. Minori shifted towards Yin, holding a hand up to his mouth.
"What did she say?"
"I said I don't mind losing, but that snake Katsutoshi cheated." She repeated, wiping excess saliva along her wrist. Then, noticing the puddle, she made a face and tried rubbing it away with her hand.
Without looking at him, she wiped it off onto Minori's sleeve, causing him to choke on a disgusted squeal.
"S-sayuri-dono!"
"He used that plant-mojo instead of facing me like a man."
"Of course he would, Imatsura-san. He was trying to kill you, after all."
Saya deadpanned at Yin, pointing at herself.
"Did you not hear me? I said he used his plant-mojo. Plant." She crossed her arms. "What a wuss."
"That wuss kicked your ass and almost killed you, boke. So what does that make you?" Kisame didn't bother opening his eyes to see the twitch in Saya's eye.
She sighed.
"That's a good question. What does that make me?" Picking herself up, Saya walked away and slid open the door, looking up into the nearly shaded sky. The scarred face of the moon peered down at her, enveloping the porch with silver light. Her torso felt the chill in the night air, her tender skin beneath the wrapping constricting with a twinge, reminding her of her utter defeat.
The door clacked shut.
"Sayuri-dono…" Minori stared sadly at the shoji, his head cocked to the side.
"Tch, stupid woman."
Kisame had realized the change in the rendezvous point immediately after he'd surfaced from the underground prison. Though he couldn't sense Itachi's chakra, it was easy enough understanding the whereabouts of his location. Whatever it was, the ring that was now on his finger provided him with a sort of telekinetic link to his partner, surely another side-effect of the summoning contract.
It was a bit surprising that the girl had known where they were as well, despite him saying nothing on the subject. She'd stayed ahead of him the entirety of their sneaking around, leading him to their ultimate destination without a sound of explanation.
Itachi had debriefed him on what had happened, starting with their hiding place in the grass and ending with Minori's explanation concerning Saya's betrayal. Kisame felt as if the younger man had left out a few details, but really, it didn't bother him in the least.
It was almost comical learning whose rooms they'd decided to hide in, though. The contrast between the feminine floral designs of the first room he'd entered and the clove-oiled weaponry of the second was like night and day. It was obvious that this so-called sister of the onna's was the exact opposite of her in nearly every way, at least by the smell and looks of it.
A room can say a lot about a person. Whether it be the pictures on the walls or the scent in the room, a single space can tell what would otherwise go unsaid. Whether the room belonged to a man or a woman depended on the wardrobe and underlying smell, sometimes the way the bed was kept or the color scheme. If there were carefully planned decorative pieces, then the person might be cultured and style-prone, if not, then sometimes there were just personal items lying about, an easy way to deduct the character of an individual.
Maybe the person was just a civilian, or maybe a shinobi? In that case, weapons might be accounted for, or perhaps just a looking glass and a bit of make-up. Was the person sloppy or neat, clothes thrown about the room or neatly color-coded into drawers? Did the person read much, with their own personal library, or did they prefer to care for plants, sheltering their room with plotted herbs and bamboo stems?
Yeah, a room can say a lot about a person, and hell, each of the rooms Kisame had seen had a mouthful to speak. The first was smothered in the scent of jasmine and tea, even after the obvious years of abandonment. The neatly hung silk kimonos said that whoever she was, she preferred order and class. The expensive ornaments and cracked face paint said that she cared about appearance and did much to keep up with it, as did her shattered tea set and table decorations.
When the kid, Minori, had transferred Saya into the room beside them, it was like a whole different world, one utterly familiar to him.
As opposed to the lavender color of her sister's room, Saya's was an aged yellow and brown, a soft aroma of lemongrass and cloves faintly attached to the walls. Actually, now that he thought of it, the onna smelled much the same.
Weapons and battle tactics littered the room. It was a scene Kisame was accustomed to, unlike the womanish veil of the former. He already knew what most of this room had to say.
His eyes traveled over to the three katanas he'd previously noticed upon his entrance, the length of each blade spurring gears in his mind. Wordlessly, he stood and retrieved them, following Saya outside and leaving the two kids with each other. Saya sat against a banister, her head resting against it as she stared out across the garden. He sat beside her, unsheathing one of the swords halfway to allow the slight shine from the moon to glare off the polished metal.
"It's a good sword." He appraised, his eyes shining with years of expertise.
"They all are." She responded, her voice husky. She kept her gaze away from him, "They used to be my weapons of choice."
He continued to inspect the pommel, the color minutely interesting, before looking over the others.
"Why'd you leave them behind?"
"Hell if I know," she sighed, "I could have used them a few times, especially when I was in that pinch near the capital." She spoke airily, almost to herself, though, Kisame knew better. There was a tenseness beneath the casualty of her answer.
"But if I think about it enough," she looked at him, "I guess it was because I lost my pride."
He stared at her for a moment before smirking.
"So what's taking you so long?"
She raised a brow.
"Nani?"
"Your pride. Haven't you found it yet?"
She sat stunned, her eyes wide and unblinking. For the first in a long time she could say nothing, only gape at him with tight, thin lips. A frog croaked somewhere, the gurgled sound crude against the silence.
Lowering her head, she smirked.
"No, not yet. But once I lop off that bastard's head, I'll have it firmly in my grasp." Her smirk widened to a crooked grin as she met his eyes, both of them harboring something sharp and feral about them.
The moon laughed.
Katsutoshi was a man of many talents and hobbies. Though, by far, viticulture was his most favorite. Long ago he'd installed a greenhouse as his main residence, the windy and harsh environment of the cliffs too rough for cultivated plants. Though the climate itself was perfect, her preferred maintaining his own within the glass room for many purposes, none of which he cared to explain to his questioning subordinates.
The chamber was lined with an array of both colorful and mundane organisms, ranging from simple Silkweed to Water Hemlock. Some of the plants were encased with glass, the noxious fumes they emitted too fatal to keep in the open air. Most of them hung from the ceiling, while the other, less noxious ones were left to slither around the confines of the walls.
Running water snaked through in small aquifers, the humidity amplified with the presence of it and the warmly kept air. The overwhelming scents lingered around him like teeming snakes, coiling and hissing with streams of sinew.
Katsu rubbed a leaf tentatively as a knock was made against the sliding door.
"Come in."
The man entered, his face covered by a simple white plate painted with a symbol of an eye. It was the same man who'd informed Saya of Saito's betrayal. He bowed with a fist to the ground.
"Sotaicho. I have located the intruders in the late Imatsura clan's quarters. How do you bid me proceed?"
"Tell me, Gakuto, do you know what happens to a salamander when its tail is held?"
The kneeling man raised his head, though, he did not lift his eyes.
"The tail rips off and it escapes unharmed."
The frosted panes of the walls were built only for the strong rays of the sun, though, thin moonbeams cascaded down and enough light dripped in for visibility. The night seemed foreboding, even to the man on his knees.
"Ah, that's right. The snake is quite different, though, isn't it? While the salamander escapes with only a lost limb, the snake writhes until it bleeds to death." Katsu released the stem and looked down onto his servant. "Gakuto, what do you think I am, the salamander that adapts and survives, or the snake that pitifully thrashes about once dealt a lethal blow?"
An awkward silence.
"Sir?"
Katsu smiled knowingly and turned back to his sprout.
"Do nothing for now, though, confront them if they decide to attempt escape. I will call for you when I am ready."
Standing, the man bowed again, turning with military posture and footing.
"Sotaicho…I personally do not see you as either. Instead of such lowly creatures, I believe you are more like a dragon of the south. Should your limb become severed, you will devour your enemy in a single bite."
Amusing.
"You think too highly of me, Gakuto. I am only a man."
"Sir."
The masked man left, closing the door silently behind him. Katsu watched the flowing water, little slices of white light reflecting off its surface.
I am only a man.
He sneered.
"No, not even that."
The moon wept.
So I suck at updating.
Eh, what can I say? My motivation has just about plummeted, and with all the end-of-the-year activities, I've been up to my elbows in work.
Oh, and I guess I also lied.
I said this would be the last chapter before little arcs following the main plot of Naruto, but I figured I should split this precipice chapter and the final showdown into two.
I would like to take a minute and thank all my new followers as well as my old ones. It's the thought of you guys reading this and actually enjoying it that has motivated me the whole time, so I sure hope like hell you enjoyed it.
Reviews are appreciated.
-Serb