"Gentle, soft dream, nestling in my arms now, you will fly too, as your sisters have all fled before you."
-Charlotte Bronte
巣雛
Kaa-san and Tou-san come home near the tail end of October, just as the trees have finished shaking themselves bare of leaves in preparation for the unforgiving winter. I turned four only two months prior, resigning myself to yet another birthday without my parents.
That day, I had been sweeping the last of the autumn foliage from the garden, thinking about whether or not there were pumpkins in Konoha, when I found myself suddenly being crushed against something hard and flat. For a second out of pure confusion, chakra rushed into my eyes, flooding my sight with the intricate details of my byakugan before-
Oh.
Oh.
"C-Chichi-ue! Haha-ue!" I sputter, wrapping myself around the one currently cradling me as the other hugs me from behind, unable to hold back the soggy wobble to my voice. They smell like blood and sweat and the forest, and I can tell now that the thick fabric in front of me is the sturdy vest of a jounin flak jacket.
"Naoko…" Kaa-san croons, and I pinpoint her as the one that's flattening me from the back.
When? How? Why?
I feel like my heart's about to burst out of my chest, emotions surging from me like a storm. Surprise. Relief. Happiness. Sadness. Confusion—I want to explode from trying to hold it all in.
When Tou-san finally lets go of me, I step back and take in the rips and tears in their clothing, places where others had tried to draw blood and presumably failed. I take in the new ragged scratch across the edge of the hiate-ate Kaa-san wears, knowing that the metal had most likely saved her life. I take in the fact that they're standing before me, my mother and my father, with no obvious scars, and most of all, alive.
"I told you, I would bring us back safe."
And then I start crying all over again, glad that neither of them say a word when I soak their uniforms in tears and snot.
巣雛
For my third birthday, I got three sets of sebons and two fuma shuriken from my distant relatives. Hisano picked me out a nice blue silk kimono, and Hiashi, loveable as he is, got me a copy of the bingo book for this year. Which was pretty entertaining to flip through, in all honesty.
The higher the bounty, the more dangerous the target. Or perhaps, the more sensitive information they carried. All the entries had fairly unique appearances and descriptions, some with habits that made me do a double take, but what else did you expect from high level jounins?
My mother handed me a beautifully carved flute, a copy of her own except with a different engraving. I hold it with awe, before tackling her in a hug.
I start practicing the next day.
My father promised to teach me any jutsu I want when he got back, with an air of refined ambivalence. Despite knowing it was because he had forgotten to get something, I still found it the most valuable gift.
My eyes glimmered.
Despite the hundreds of useful jutsus that flooded my mind, I already knew which one I wanted to learn. The amount of work it would save me would be more than worth it.
If I hadn't learned to watch every move those around me made, I would've missed the way his shoulder seemed to sag slightly afterwards in a mixture of relief and dread.
巣雛
The war was not yet over, but after their months of service, Naoko and Hizashi were allowed a temporary discharge for rest and mental re-evaluations as the struggle along the front dies down. My father was scheduled to return in two days, but mother's tour of duty was over. When I asked why, she shared a coy smile with my father before rubbing her stomach tenderly.
It only took me a heartbeat to understand.
"Well, Naoko-chan, you're going to be a big sister really soon."
I could only gape at the middle of my mother in bafflement, finally realizing the way her stomach curved slightly outward, subtle enough to be hidden under her loose clothing if you weren't looking for the right thing.
"W-When is he gonna be born?" I finally manage to sputter.
Kaa-san smiles brightly, all soft curves and lilting joy.
"Sometime from late June to early July. Plenty of time to prepare, ne?"
Wordlessly, I nod my head, mentally reeling.
I can't believe my father knocked up my mother in the middle of the battlefield. As if it wasn't terrifying enough to deal with enemies, they still had enough mood to get it on? And here I thought my parents actually had restraint.
The giddiness bubbling in my chest betrayed me.
巣雛
Before he left, I only got to show my Tou-san my kunai-throwing skills. I wasn't a pro by any means, but all the kunai landed within the middle of the target, and that was good enough for me. Unless I was planning on messing around with sebon and pressure points(which...honestly wasn't a bad idea now that I thought about it), this level of accuracy would do for now.
Weapons weren't my speciality, and I highly doubt that they ever would be. I was a Hyuuga, and we were known for our battle-ending taijutsu style.
Father gives me a pleased smile, and promises to teach me how to fly shurikens when he gets back. I raised an eyebrow at the amount of vows he was suddenly so pertained to giving before smirking and holding him to it.
Kaa-san and I saw him off at the gates the next day, supplies replenished, well-rested, and determined. Watching the flicker of my father's green vest disappear into the woods in the high speed of a shunshin, I felt reassured that I would see him again.
Mother smiled down at me, sweetness under her faint traces of distress.
"Now...how about some mochi."
I was reminded of why I loved this woman, as a matching grin split across my face.
"Mhm!"
巣雛
If I had thought playing with kunai was fun, I sure as hell wasn't ready for the utter possibilities of ninja wire.
Chuya grinned widely at the fascination pasted across my face, eyes bright and pulling thin strands of silver through her gloved hands. It was cold out after all, being the middle of December. I myself was puffed up in layers and layers of kimono.
"See! I keep telling everyone ninja wire is amazing, but they never listen. Of course, I knew you would get it, Nao-chan!"
She was back in the village again, with a fractured leg this time. Not from fighting, but simply from running too much, too often, or so the Yamanaka had told me sheepishly. She seemed to like her courier assignments quite a lot.
"Here! How about we go to the training grounds and I'll teach you some nifty tricks!"
Leaving the takoyaki stand by Chuya's apartment near the west side of Konoha with the taste of soy sauce still in our mouths, we make quick time to one of the many wooded arenas in the village. The practice of using chakra to enhance my speed was one of the first things I had learned, and as such it was easy to keep a swift pace and match the chunin ahead of me.
I couldn't help the small tingle of satisfaction inside me as we leap from the roofs of buildings to buildings, the way I had seen ninjas do many months prior. There was just something about the feel of landing on a home or store before using it to get to the next. The hopping was fun too, even if the wind was a little too biting right now to be pleasant, and I enjoyed being able to look down at the streets we pass along with the people that milled about. Civilians and ninjas alike crowded around stands selling warm food, clouds of mist drifting from warm breaths and hot snacks into the air.
I sniffed.
Mm...sweet potatoes.
As we got further from the main roads, the trees got thicker until we were leaping through branches in one of the many forests of Great Konoha. Here or there, I could spot hollows where small prey made their nests for the winter.
Training ground twelve was where Chuya, my mother, and their team had met when they were eager genin stepping foot onto the path of bloodshed. To this day, it was still Chuya's favored spot for any sort of practice, whether out of habit or rememberance or both.
We land in the clearing with the soft taps of boots against frozen dirt.
The trees around us are all still lush. Evergreens, though mostly devoid of any indication of life as they were napping through the cold months. The grass is stiff with frost.
Chuya looks around, eyes settling on a stump here, a snapped branch there, before she fades, lost in her thoughts. She paces around the clearing for a moment, walking a greener circle into the frost.
I shiver, and huddle deeper into my scarf.
Finally, she pauses at the gnarled trunk of a tree slightly closer than the others and runs a hand down the deep scars raking the wood, and the corners of her lips tug up.
Anticipation tugs inside me, recognizing the signs that come as a prelude to her stories.
So far, I had only heard about the first time they left the village(and their third teammate ate poison berries by accident) and the time Kaa-san had to dress up as the daimyo of the wind for an infiltration mission, along with a handful of C-rank snippets. Compared to most, their team had definitely been one of the more manageable ones, brought together by the cool composition of my mother, the charisma of Chuya, and the timidness of Unnamed Teammate Number Three.
"You know, your mother and I always worked better together than we did with our other teammate." Chuya began, wistfully, back still towards me. I feel like I'm losing feeling in my feet from standing still, the cold bleeding through my socks. I'm still wearing my geta, as I could just regulate chakra through my feet to keep me toasty, and that's what I do.
"Maybe it was because we were the only two girls, faced with him as well as our male jounin instructor. Maybe it was because Natsuki and I seemed to click, and Yuu...Yuuto didn't."
I blinked in surprise, having noticed the way her other teammate's name caught in her throat before she could say it. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear more.
"He was always shyer than the two of us, couldn't speak up to save his life."
She laughed, a horrible, empty sound.
"Maybe that was why we didn't notice he was gone until we reached the gates of Konoha."
I didn't move an inch.
This was not the usual tale of childish shenanigans I was told. This was something much more personal, and much more important.
Chuya's eyes flickered back towards me, and she stepped away quickly from the tree as if burned. Nervously, she laughs, though the damage is already done.
"Well, enough about that, how about we get started on the ninja wire, hmm?"
She quickly ensnares my mind and the clearing with layers of silvery traps. She teaches me that wire could be attached to anything; kunai, shuriken, sebon, even your hands. It would go unnoticed if one didn't pay the right type of attention, the only downfall being the gleam of metal if light catches on it. That's why it was preferable to use ninja wire in the dark, or on cloudy days.
"And with your Byakugan, that shouldn't be a problem! Where the rest of us might fail in sight, you have the advantage."
She flips and twists through snares I can't see, a deadly dancer. It feels like anywhere I look, my attention is always drawn away by the glint of another wire until I realize I'm surrounded.
For someone with such a sunny disposition, the Yamanaka was absolutely terrifying with traps.
Chuya sets down a stump she procures from nowhere(probably another ninja trick) down in the middle of the clearing before she leaps away again, following an invisible rhythm.
"Let me tell you here, Nao-chan. Jutsus might be flashy and poison might be deadly, but when you find yourself on the field without your teammates, without your chakra, without any more weapons, ninja wire will be the thing that saves your life."
She pulled, and the log split into three clean pieces as all the wires converged into one space, the metal going straight through wood like butter.
She offers me a cunning grin, hands laced with all-encompassing power.
"And of course, be a valuable asset regardless."
She unwinds her net and offers me the first head of a spool with a smile of encouragement.
It takes me two hours to set up a trap that met Chuya's satisfaction, and even then I know I'm nowhere close to her level of mastery.
"Wires are a sleight of hand," She whispers, "you shouldn't know that they're there until it's too late."
I work the web of a spider from my fingertips.
巣雛
"What...happened to Yuuto?"
It was snowing again, and the sun had already fallen far beyond the horizon. Days were much shorter in winter, but the white of the snow reflects the moon and gives more than enough light.
We have the heaters running, so it isn't as cold inside the compound.
Kaa-san looked surprised at my question, before her mouth set into a hard line and she gazed out past me, into the garden. A thin veil of darkness rolled out over her eyes.
"I suppose Chuya told you, then?"
I paused, not wanting to get the woman in trouble if this was some sort of forbidden topic, but judging by the hood in my mother's eyes, she already knew. It was hard to hide anything from her, byakugan or not.
I nodded.
She sighed, but it seemed to be more out of a need to breathe than exasperation.
Silence sits with us for a moment, Kaa-san dusting off her thoughts before she finally spoke with a cold rim in her tone.
"Yuuto was captured by enemy nins, the brothers of the bandit we were sent to kill a few days back as we were on our way home from a mission. They took him right from us."
The words were bitter, spat out like raw apricot seeds after their acrid taste hit your tongue.
"Of course, the moment we realized, we instantly sent out for a request to return and retrieve him. The Hokage granted us permission, and we were out for six days, trying to hunt down where he was."
Kaa-san looked so tired in that moment, like all her years of death and death and more death had finally joined together onto her face.
"We would've looked longer, but at the end of that week, the Hokage gave us an order for withdrawal. Chuya and I had stepped into his office with vigor, ready to struggle to continue our search. Instead, an ANBU led us to the T&I, where they showed us a black bag."
The fog from her tea curled in the air, but it no longer seemed to warm her.
"Of course, deep inside, we had always known that it was unlikely he was still alive, but we had to have that hope when we looked. For ourselves, if not for him."
For a minute, she's quiet again. And when she speaks next, it's with a twisted fury.
"Yuuto had returned in our absence. Mutilated beyond belief, with the assumption that he had faced days of torture before death."
My mind is blank. There is nothing I can say.
Kaa-san turns to me, a terribly sad look in her eyes.
"That is why, darling, you must understand. The path of a ninja, is not easy."
After the sun fully sets, I lay in my bed, watching shadows shift across my ceiling.
There are a lot of truths found in this world. There are a million different paths to take that would all make sense.
You could close yourself off forever, to prevent the pain of getting too attached to someone too weak to survive.
You could love as you wish, be free with your heart, and experience the wonder of mutual compassion and intimacy at the risk of feeling the hurt so much, much more.
You could walk straight onto the warpath, cutting down all those in your way, easing the agony with the blood of others.
I wondered which was the correct choice.
(The answer, there was none.)
巣雛
The months passed fast, the absence of my father eased by the gentle presence of my mother. Hisano still dropped by every once in a while, which was nice as I found her more likable than many of my other relatives. She would coo with my mother over baby planning and room options and developmental talk. Despite my resistance at being dragged into their blatantly maternal talk, I still helped clear out a place for my sibling(Neji if it was a boy and Nori if it was a girl, but I already knew which one it was going to be. How many Neji Hyuugas were there?)'s room and helped pick a color for the walls("...pale yellow").
Training still persisted as I improved my aim, timing, and chakra control. I learn almost all the kata of the Gentle Fist, and my Byakugan expands four meters more. Slow, but insidious.
Kaa-san's stomach grows more and more. At night, I take to curling against her midriff, feeling the hum of life emitting from inside her and letting silly smiles slip out whenever Neji kicks. I already knew that I would protect him with my life, this innocent being, not even yet born.
Eventually, Neji grows big enough that I can see the tiny glow of his chakra system from the gardens.
For six months, we slowly fill the newly emptied room with cradles and toys and baby powder. I pick out a softly twittering mobile that spun amber brushed birds to hang above his head.
I train harder as the days progress, determined to be someone that could keep Neji safe when...when.
When Hizashi eventually died.
My hits against the log in front of me slow. And then stop.
When…
I slump into the grass, eyes ahead but unseeing.
I had completely forgotten, hadn't I? I had shoved those thoughts so far back into my mind, that I had only ever let knowledge of the world around me slip out in trickles when something triggered a reminder. Like Kushina, with her verbal tic and vibrancy. Like Neji, with the brief image of a serious brown-haired boy.
I had been selfish. Was still selfish. In lieu of saving myself heartache, I almost nearly forgot precious information. Information that could save those that had become so important to me.
It wasn't supposed to be like this.
I wasn't supposed to care.
And now, I did. Too much.
Desperately, I dig into my own brain, shifting through piles and piles of worthless facts; the habits of lizards, essays on U.S. Presidents, the way atomic bombs could decimate cities, how to fix a computer, the password to my phone—but I find nothing about my family. My old one, the one that had cared(I think, I hope) about me as well. The one that had raised me to be me—not that I was the same person anymore.
I don't find anything about myself, except lingering reminders of food preferences and other equally mundane facts that I knew had to have been sprung from somewhere, but all the deeply personal memories were gone.
That...was what I had wanted, wasn't it?
To forget everything.
So that I could move on.
It felt like my heart was breaking all over again.
I was spiraling. Who am I, without my old memories? What defines who I am? My personality?
I wasn't Naoko Hyuuga! I was...I was…
...I couldn't remember who I was.
All I know is who I am now. And I was Naoko Hyuuga. The girl with long dark brown hair the color of molten chocolate, face too delicate and sharp to belong to me, eyes too big and white and blank to let anyone see into me. The girl that likes the way soft mochi stretches itself in her mouth. The girl that admired her father and her mother and her Asuka and her Chuyae. The girl that performs the Gentle Fist as smoothly as a fish in water, the one that would bring honor and prestige to their clan.
The girl that was fated to be bound by a seal, wings clipped by a power she never wanted to have.
The girl that festered a rotting hatred in her.
That...was me. And I was her.
And the world would keep spinning on even if I wasn't.
Life seemed to be spurred back into motion, and I take a deep breath.
Hyuuga Hiashi was fated to die in the Hyuuga Incident, when Hinata was three years of age. Neji would receive his curse seal and lose his way when Hinata was three years old. I would be shoved into the cage when Hinata was three years old.
I had four years to change things.
It didn't feel like long enough.
Getting back up from my seat in the dirt, I resumed my training.
It would be long enough.
巣雛
"I heard from Hisano-sama that you've almost learned all the kata of the Gentle Fist."
My mother's voice was soft, un-probing. More a statement than a question.
"Yes."
She leisurely takes a sip of tea before getting up from where she had been sitting on her cushion. The ball of her stomach was only faintly visible at this point in her pregnancy.
"Well, let's see it then."
Her face gives nothing away, but I can see the slight hint of playfulness in her eyes.
I blink in surprise. It's usually my father teaching me new weapons and techniques and sparring with me. Not to mention...my line of sight travels downwards to where my brother was still developing in my mother's body.
Catching my look, Kaa-san huffed.
"People seem to forget that I'm a jounin. I am only in my second trimester, Naoko. I will be fine."
Well, now that her pride was involved, I knew there was no way I was going to get my mother to change her mind. Disgruntled, I shift into the first stance of the gentle fist, the opening kata. I haven't yet learned how to make the chakra spike that's needed for the taijutsu style to do any real and lasting damage, which helps reassure me the smallest bit.
My Byakugan activates without a second prompt. My chakra control had grown significantly in my parents' absence. I would display it for her.
Mother stands in the grass in front of me, and beckons me to attack her. I focus in.
If she was truly that confident, then I would go full out.
I aim for the tenketsu above her liver, something that would be crippling with the amount of pain it would generate if hit by the complete version of the Gentle Fist. Kaa-san blocks easily, but I let my light strike slide along her arm, my other hand coming up from my side to hit the string of glowing lights above her stomach, but she blocks those with an unfair ease as well.
No matter, I grab onto my mother's hand instead, my right leg kicking straight up for her arm in the intent of breaking it clean in half. Kaa-san's other hand comes around and stops the path of my foot, and for a second I am suspended in the air before I leap backwards.
I don't take more than a second for breath before dashing back in with a jump.
It's difficult. I still only go up to her hip, and the small stature of my body can't compete with the defense my mother provides.
She wasn't lying when she gave the testament to her skill. I never should've underestimated her.
In the end, I land in the dirt, breathing hard as my mother's voice tells me enough. I can't help the faint tendrils of shame that crawl into me, even as she gives me a smile.
"You've made very good progress, Naoko. You'll definitely grow to be very strong."
She sets a hand on my head, lovingly, before turning around.
"The snacks should be done, so come in and wash up."
All my insecurities fade away in the face of sakura mochi. Not as good as regular mochi, in my opinion, but still delicious.
There's still a bit of a chill to the air, but it hasn't snowed for two weeks. The cold press of winter is transitioning to spring, but I wish that the brightness of beautiful February would never fade away.
巣雛
Tou-san doesn't make it back home in time for Neji's birth.
I sit in the waiting room, my heart in my throat, listening to the screams that the white walls couldn't suppress, shifting uncomfortably in the foreign environment of the hospital. The smell of antiseptic burned in my nose.
I barely had time to slip on some shoes earlier today before running off to get someone to take my mother to the hospital when her water broke. She had already been bleeding by the time I got back with someone in tow—which considering the fact that we lived right in the middle of a bunch of dojutsu using ninjas, was fast.
The Hyuuga, someone I faintly recognized as a newly minted chunin by the name of Toshiro, had also panicked until my mother growled at him to take her to the hospital, eyes practically flaying the poor boy's flesh off with her glare that screeched 'I'm-actually-giving-birth-right-now-and-you're-scared?!'
He had instantly shut up with a meek "yes ma'am" before delicately gathering her up in his arms and rocketing off to the hospital. I was left to watch with a gape of betrayal.
Luckily, I knew where the building was, and the occasional drops of blood I found on the road were an equally recognizable and concerning trail.
So here I was now, hands twisted into the fabric of my kimono with a nervous Hyuuga child-soldier, who had told me his rank had come from a field promotion, sitting next to me. At most, he could have only been fifteen.
While I was gripped with worry, he seemed more nervous, although we both winced everytime we heard an ear-splitting screech from the room at our backs.
"It's okay, you can go back." I finally said, a calm mutter.
He looked over at me, body stiff and unsure, but still with the same poise that all members of my clan carried.
"Will you be alright alone?" He asked, voice betraying his age.
I nod.
He only casts me a backward glance as he gets up and leaves. Although the members of my clan didn't often interact, we still knew the news about each other. On goings and stories and state of beings. Case in point, my status as a 'prodigy', and by assumption, the fact that I'm more capable of handling difficult situations.
It wasn't incorrect, but it wasn't correct either.
I sit alone until the windows tell me it's night and the hospital lights flicker on. A nurse walks by and offers me food in a kind tone. I accept so that she leaves, but I don't take a single bite. My stomach is rolling with anxiety, for both my mother and my currently-being-born-brother, and I doubt I can force anything down.
Hours and hours later, the screams get steadily frailer, quivering at the end with a weakness I knew my mother would never tolerate in herself. The clock tells me it's three in the morning.
Another hour passes, and there's not a single howl of pain.
A bad feeling itches inside of me, a mixture of disquiet and tension.
All of the sudden, a nurse bursts out of the room, hands still covered in blood and looking frantic. His eyes land on me, and I'm being dragged out of my chair.
I stand in front of my mother.
The room is dimly lit, and it only half works in hiding how tired she looks. Her dark hair is still pasted to her face, and sweat keeps coming despite the fact I have no doubt she must be facing some sort of dehydration. Her eyes are hazy, and I wonder if she could even recognize who I was.
The smell of blood is overwhelming.
"Do you want to hold him?" My mother's voice is raspy from hours of screaming.
She barely has the energy to move her head towards the small bundle in her arms, an indication for me to take.
Carefully, I reach out to transfer Neji into my arms. I make sure to support his neck with my arm, the way I've been taught so, so long ago when I would watch other people's children for them.
He's small, and his face is still the wrinkled prune of all newborns, but he has a bright flush to his face. Healthy.
I brush a tiny fluff of brown hair back from his forehead.
Kaa-san smiles at me secretly, already knowing that I was head over heels.
"Good…" Her voice is softer now, and my eyes snap back up. "I knew you would be a good sister…"
My eyes grow wide as she seems to deflate, sinking into the mattress with a heavy exhale.
"Take...care...of him…..ne…."
I freeze. My body felt like it was going into shock, not believing what I was seeing.
Mother doesn't move.
The heart monitor goes wild, and the residing doctor barks out terms that I don't know. Someone shoves me backward as the blue of policy issued scrubs invade my vision.
The nurses and the doctor try to pump chakra back into my mother's body and jumpstart her heart, but she's already long gone.
I feel like I'm trapped in a horror movie. There was no way this was happening.
I couldn't do anything but hold Neji like a dead weight, and he squirms feebly in my grasp.
Someone, another nurse, shoves me back out of the room, and I don't move from where the door is closed in my face. All I do, is stand and stare.
A lifetime later, the door is opened again. The doctor looks weary as he walks out, stripping off his red, red gloves.
"Naoko Hyuuga?" He asks, and both of us know that he doesn't have to.
I can barely bring myself to nod.
"Father on duty?"
Another tilt of the head.
"It was a long struggle. She tried her hardest, and she held on just long enough to give birth."
Stop stalling. Just tell me already.
"But she lost too much blood and chakra. I'm sorry for your loss, but your mother is dea…"
I feel like I've been dunked in water, because I'm looking at this tired, tired man from the bottom of a pool. I can't hear the rest of his words; water floods my ears and pushes out his voice.
Everything is muted. Muted and pulsing.
I'm drowning.
I nod again, even though I have no idea what's being said. Someone is pushing me down, and I feel the back of a chair meet me.
I'm drowning, and there's no one left.
Mouths move without words. Faces blur into darkness.
Who are they. Who am I.
Hands reach out, and they try to take the weight from my arms. I don't let them. I can't remember why, but this weight is important. It doesn't belong anywhere else other than with me.
Why? Why is that?
Why is this weight so important?
I force myself to look down, and like the clouds parting, I'm finally able to see out of that warped pool.
He's sleeping now, dark lashes flush against pudgy cheeks.
He's breathing, a rhythmic 1, 2, 3, 1, 2, 3.
He still has gunk on his face. I try to brush some of it away(cold, but still barely wet) with my hand, but all that accomplishes is me getting it on myself.
There's another gurgled noise from beyond the water, and a hand appears in my vision. It's holding a cloth, soft and soaked. I take it, and use that to wipe away the slime from his skin.
This...is Neji, isn't it? Neji, my brother.
"...aoko. Naoko. Listen to me."
I'm resurfacing, and there's a crowd of faces around me. Two I recognize as one of the nurses and the doctor, and the other as my aunt. She looks at me carefully.
"Naoko. We need to feed and bathe Neji. The doctor needs to get his measurements and make sure he's okay." I look down again.
Neji?
"Can you do that, Naoko? Give us Neji?"
Every single one of my instincts screamed against it, but I carefully handed him over. The doctor takes him, and stands up to go. Instantly, I move to follow him before being shoved back down again.
I redirect my gaze to Hisano Hyuuga. My brain struggles to match her up to someone that I knew, someone that would be safe.
"Your mother is dead."
Stop. Stop saying that. I know, I know she is. I was there when she breathed her last breath. I was the one she said her last words to.
I know. So stop reminding me.
"But it is going to be okay."
Liar. Liar liar liar liar liar.
You don't know. You don't know the future. You don't know what it felt like. You're not the one that's having everything ripped away from her right now.
You can't understand the pain of losing everything twice.
"You need to be strong."
I was never strong enough. If I was, maybe she wouldn't be gone. If I was, maybe I would still be able to listen to the windchimes with my mother, wrapped in her fabric scent, tasting her cooking and having her laugh at me. My regal, dignified, strong mother.
I feel numb but goosebumps are breaking out all over my body. It feels like I'm dying.
Flowers wilt in the winter, I think delusionally.
It's the first days of July.
And my mother is dead.
Sorrow crashes over me like waves. All I can do is bury my face in the sleeves of my kimono and cry, cry, cry. It feels like the tears never end.
I cry until all I can feel is the burning of my face. I cry until all that lingers in my dry mouth is salt. I cry until I feel like I've flooded the entire world.
巣雛
Pink carnations have two-fold meanings. On one side, it symbolizes remembrance and grief. On the other, it stands for the unending depth of a mother's love.
That's the bouquet I lay at Natsuki Hyuuga's grave. Loving mother, fearless warrior, and patient woman. Always afraid to get too close to others, in fear that they would hurt her the same way she eventually had hurt me.
Asuka stands by me, soundless, but her knuckles are white where she clutches her handful of gladiolus. Chuya is sobbing shamelessly into a sleeve of zinnia. Two of the only five people my mother had trusted to let into her life.
I don't cry that day. I don't have anything left.
But I know that here, death comes in spades. It ebbs and flows like the tide, and I shouldn't allow myself to be dragged under when it does come back to lap at my feet. Kaa-san would've never wanted it that way. All I could do now was make good on her last wish.
Neji mewls in my hold, accepting his bottle easily. I sit in one of the empty hospital rooms, where they have insisted he stay until he's either old enough to return home without supervision or my father gets back.
This place doesn't fit him. He belongs in the brightly painted comfort of his room, where Kaa-san and I piled toys and blankets and all other things that were comfortable and childish. The room we built from love, filled with the scent of lavender and the last lingers of our mother's presence.
I should've known. I was too worried about Hizashi to realize that I had never seen a single shot of Neji's mother.
When he finishes all of his milk, I carefully lay him against my shoulder and burp him, years of previous babysitting dictating my actions. The nurse in the room with me is silent, watching me with a sort of disbelief.
I wipe spittle from his face and rock him in my arms, warm and vulnerable and mine.
I won't leave his side for the world.
巣雛
The war ends a month later, and with it, the pressing sense of doom that had been lost in my grief.
Now, I could look at my toolbox with something other than solemn acceptance, and drawing from it's contents felt less like a rite of passage. Now I wouldn't have to worry about the burning metal that would scar the curse seal into my skin if I had graduated from the Academy in times of war, in order to protect the Byakugan on the field.
But with every blessing comes a curse. And every curse comes with a blessing.
Hiashi Hyuuga comes home safe, to a family with one less and one extra, and clutches us like we're the last objects on Earth.
There is no more homemade mochi to celebrate, and there is one less thing to celebrate about, but I still manage a small smile.
Neji comes home for the first time in a month, and Hizashi looks at me with a mixture of sorrow and pity and concern. I pretend that I'm unafflicted.
I needed to be strong, for the three of us both.
He mourns. I know he mourns. He walks the house like a ghost, but he still brushes his hand against Neji's cheek lovingly, and that's all I can really ask for.
I'm still the one to feed and bathe and change him, father not really knowing the ins and outs of childcare even as he tries to help. I don't mind, though. I feel better when it's me taking care of Neji, knowing that I would give everything to protect him.
The few nights he isn't busy, Hizashi picks up a bottle and sits in the rocking chair and lures his son to sleep. And everytime, a small part of me mends together again.
Things are shattered right now, but I knew they would heal with time. And with each fracture, the bone grows back stronger than ever.
I lay on my father's lap at night, like how I did so long ago. He's dressed again in his yukata, the way he should be. Elegance always fitted him better than violence did.
"Long before the dawn of Konoha…" He starts, and I press my face into his stomach, the minty-tea scent renewed after the blood and dirt had been scrubbed off him.
The moonlight becomes a familiar and inviting glow.
巣雛
Dirt smudges itself onto my clothes and skin as I kneel in the gardens. Behind the rows of daffodils was where I had planted my Hyacinth, bursting stalks of clustered flowers that looked inappropriate next to the bright yellow they bloomed next to, yet complementing in a way that extended far beyond appearances.
After all, loss does not come without love.
I snip their stalks at the bottom and wrap them up in tissue paper, the curling purple vibrant enough to hurt amongst the black of its sheath. I had not used these flowers for Kaa-san, because they had meant to represent a different fear. The fear of cannon fodder made of Academy kids, of blood on kimonos and kunais, of my parent's bodies on the field, amongst the many others, sanguine and defiled. A horrible, violent end.
But Kaa-san had gone in peace. She had died, not by the hands of another faceless ninja, but by the love she had for her family.
And that, was not the same as war.
I go inside and clean up, washing away the few bits of soil that had managed to find their way under my nails, and I change out of my regular grey yukata into the same black clothes all shinobi families were to wear to the gathering today. It is not unfamiliar to me, as the cloth belt around the middle resembles my obi, albeit the skirt is shorter than what I'm used to. The long sleeves are shorter as well, and tighter, and I feel a little naked without the cocooning security of my kimono hiding my hands from sight.
I eye the long pants of my father with longing.
Neji is left at home under the watch of one of the many housewives of the branch family, a distant cousin at most. I make sure to press a kiss to his forehead before I leave, and it stops his fussing for the minute it takes for us to slip out the door.
I don't want to leave him, but I didn't want him to ever experience the immorality of death.
The sky is a cloudy grey today, a slight chill in the air. Unusual for the sunny habits of Konoha but definitely fitting.
We were to gather at the Cemetery to honor those that had fallen during the war, and instill hope for those that had not. It's almost disconcerting to see the floods of other people, other ninja, that were dressed in the exact same outfits.
I spot a flash of silver in the crowd, the masked face of a boy that had lost too much to something he had never wanted, and I suddenly feel out of place.
I had never fought in the war. I had seen the deficits it had wrought, felt the fear and the want for it to end, but I had never stepped foot onto the battlefield. I had lost my mother, but it was never to the gore of combat. I had never lost anyone close to me to the toils of war, or had to spill lifesblood over and over, wondering when it would end.
What I had felt during the war was a pale comparison to what those standing here today had experienced.
We bow our heads, facing the tall, grabbing flame of the Will of Fire. Consuming all, and leaving only scraps of squads and families in the aftermath.
The great, burning fire of Konoha.
It's a short service, but by the time we get ready to leave, the sky has already begun clearing up. People start talking again, soft whispers that turn into mild chatters.
Tou-san starts on the walk home, but I stop, the bouquet of purple still clutched in my arms.
He looks back, eyes traveling from the flowers to my face. And he offers me a small smile, weak compared to the ones he used to give before the war, but a smile nonetheless.
"Be back before dawn" He says, before turning around again.
I watch his retreating back until my father is swallowed up by the crowd, and I press the flowers tightly to my chest.
The memorial stone is not hard to find. It's a gleaming black obsidian, surrounded by plates of red stone in the midst of a clearing, looking awkwardly out of place. But then again, the sight of memorials should never be in place.
To my relief, no one else is there, but there are already tens of flowering arrangements draped over and around the monument, leaving only the names of the fallen ones uncovered.
I lay mine down on top of a pile of white lilies in the front, grimacing as I think of all the ones that had put the arrangements here and who they must've lost.
But I am not here today to mourn. Instead, I set down my flowers to thank those that had taken my father and my mother's place in the war, even if the former had been lost. She had still lived long enough to come home and give us Neji, and for that, I was eternally grateful.
It could've been them inscribed there on that dark, dark stone. Reduced to just names for future generations to ponder over. Casualties of greed.
I take a moment of silence to trace over every single name on that stone.
Then, I turn, and I walk away.
I didn't feel quite ready to go home yet, despite the part of me that always longed to see Neji, and so my feet landed on the rocky banks of the river that ran nearby instead. It isn't particularly wide or deep, the water a crystal blue and the masses of stone on the other bank easily visible, but the sound of the rushing water is calming.
I trek north, letting pebbles crunch under my open toed sandals. The design of the shoe prevents any rocks from actually getting into my sandals, and the sturdy cushion was nice despite the way my toes felt exposed. It was more comfortable than my geta, for sure, and less likely to break my ankle if I fell.
I would have to get used to these. The shoes of a ninja.
Who knows, it still might be my turn yet.
I travel for a time, until the sky is once again blue and the clouds are once again white. Yet, the shadows they cast still pull the world into tones of blue and gray, like the days I would expect from a chilly Autumn.
My chakra pushes and pulls within me, and I occasionally let it move naturally through my body, activating my Byakugan on and off like a switch. I roll it out to its furthest extent, and then push for a little more.
The cliff to my right grows taller and taller, the ravine that I walk cutting deeper into the land. I admire the sharpness of the craggy loom of rock and the tiny dot that looked like a person falling from the top-.
Wait, what.
My Byakugan doesn't extend high enough for me to see from my distance, so I don't bother activating it. Instead, I push chakra into my legs as I watch the far-off falling figure, fifteen meters away, fourteen meters away, dashing towards it as fast as I possibly could. The closer I get, the easier it is for me to make out a shape and affirm that yes, it was in fact a human.
My mind races to think.
I had just witnessed graveyards of loss.
This kid(because that size could only be a child) would not be one of them.
My hands flash down my body, checking for tools I already know aren't there. I hadn't packed a single kunai or wire or anything that could've been helpful, thinking that it would just be a day of mourning. And it would be, if I didn't think of anything soon.
The boy is two meters away, at least another thirty up in the air. He's on his back, plummeting.
All I have on me is my chakra, and so I use it.
I push as much of it as I could into my legs, bending down for a split second before I'm shooting through the air, wind whipping my long hair behind me. My bangs smack me in the face painfully, but all I can focus on is trajectory and the body that gets closer and closer with every second that passes.
I reach out my arms.
And I snatch him out of the air, like a heron striking fish from the water. He's heavy, heavier than I expected, big enough to be my age or older, and suddenly my smooth arch becomes more of a plummet.
I can hear his noises of surprise, but I just press his head closer into my shoulder, pressing my lips together into a thin line as I have to snap the flow of my chakra to my legs and redirect it in record time to my arms. The amount needed to carry him is enough that I need to coat my arms twice, and the chakra in my legs father for a brief second before I force more in.
It feels like I'm trying to tear myself apart, but my control is good, better than any other clan kid near my age range, and I manage.
With alarm, I find my reserves depleting. I quickly judge that I still had at least half left, enough to make this jump land safely without having to toe chakra exhaustion.
Gritting my teeth as the ground comes closer-four meters, three meters, two meters, one-I send a last burst of chakra straight to my feet, and they hit home.
I skid, digging my heels in as the layers of rocks sprayed up for the first few feet, and then I'm standing again, sandals up to the ankle in the dirt beneath the rocks, the boy still heavy in my arms, no bones broken, and not likely to be six feet under anytime soon.
My breath is forced out of me like a fish gulping for water, and I suddenly take in the way my knees are shaking from the strain and the anxiety, the cold sweat that's running down my back, and the way my entire body tingles with the last remains of adrenaline-and I feel like I want to pass out right there right then.
But instead, I ease my grip from where I had been clutching the boy to my shoulder hard enough that a broken nose was a possibility, and his own death-grip on my shirt(still black and dreary and I'm so, so glad that it's not because I was wearing it to another funeral) eases.
I take in his short black hair, silk against my hand. I take in the dark, dark blue of his sleeveless high collar shirt. I take in the sight of his shorts, tied with a kunai pouch at the side, and his ninja sandals, and the sharp red fan blazed into his back.
Ninja child.
And I feel my relief turn into a biting anger.
I shakily set him down, and he's taller than me, with pitch black eyes and long lashes and a face that's too childish and yet not childish enough.
Crows swarm our bodies, but I don't break the gaze.
Regardless of whether or not I knew who he was at the time, my first meeting with Itachi Uchiha was, to be blunt, an unexpected surprise.
巣雛
Being coddled in the nest does not last forever. When the nestlings have shed the last of their down in their final childhood molt, flight feathers grow in.
Fledglings test the new layers of their wings. Those that jump too early fall. Those that let the winds comb through their plume find themselves ruffling in anticipation.
Some have to be shoved out.
It's time to leave the nest, regardless of how much they may want to stay.
The draw of the summer breeze is greater still.
巣雛
Yup! Things are picking up.
This might be the only new chapter for a while, as I finally have to face the work left for the rest of summer. Also, the next chapter is difficult to write.
Tell me your thoughts! ^-^