Chapter three : Nightfall into Dusk
The mess of papers strewn about the wooden desk seemed like a pitfall of document chaos, but to Chihiko it was very familiar. She eyed each paper as if it were a puzzle she had to memorize, scanning the lines of text vigorously, still wearing her night shirt and shorts, her hair a tangled mat.
"154 D-rank…143 C-rank…99 B-rank…2 A-rank…" she said to herself as she tallied the number of missions she has completed in order by rank. It would have brought immense pride to any 13-year-old ninja to have so many high-level jobs available to them. But the truth of the matter was that the Waterfall ninja wasn't heavily populated, that it didn't have many professional ninja. It really was a town occupied mostly by farmers.
Save Chihiko, there were probably only 50 or so other shinobi and kunoichi who were trained and capable enough to undergo the dangerous missions allocated by the village chief, and of that, only a small percentage of them were Jounin. It was a shameful statistic, especially since they bordered Konoha, which lay just south of them, and the Village Hidden in the Rock, which stared at them menacingly from the north. They were cornered by two massive countries, each with excellent soldiers and resources.
The Sound Village Jounin from before had been wise to mention the Village Hidden in the Leaves during his clever bribe; any other villager from this area would have been riled, being compared to Konoha.
Amongst the villager's shinobi, Chihiko was a stand-out member. She had ascended quickly through the ninja ranks, securing the title of Genin at 8 years of age, and just recently she had become one of the few Chuunin the village had to offer.
Her levels were constantly rising. With each day, she became faster, more fluid, more efficient, like a machine constantly undergoing upgrades to its system. There was hardly any other shinobi who could match her for speed and intelligence; it was nearly sickening how quickly she could assess a situation.
It should have made her heart swell with pride.
But Eijiro's comments had sunk deep down into her core, and were festering from the inside-out. Chihiko felt her gaze sink down towards the floor, towards her feet, which seemed so very small and pathetic, not capable of anything constructive.
She shook her head, chasing away the mental funk. Hands moving hastily, she shoved the documents back into a large, accordion-folder.
This is no time for self-pity…Chihiko thought to herself, as she placed the folder onto a nearby shelf in her unembellished, plain room. It wasn't much, but she was grateful to have basic furniture; there was a bed with simple blue sheets, a shelf on which several books and folders were held, a wardrobe, and a wooden, unvarnished desk with no chair. On the wall furthest from the door was the room's only window, which had cheap, plastic blinds that only did a mediocre job of keeping out the sun's radiance; there was never any need for electric lighting.
For Chihiko, there was no need for glamour or even decorations, save one. Sitting on the windowsill peacefully, in a brown earthenware pot, was a medium sized plant, an Aralia, sometimes referred to as a "Ming" plant. She stared at it happily, looking at its small green leafs that sprouted from numerous thin branches.
Walking towards it, she raised her right hand, fingers closed and palm flat. Chihiko felt a familiar power, one that normally lay dormant inside her, start to churn as she focused her chakra into her hand. Lips pressed inwards, Chihiko began to visualize a greenish-aura spanning forth from her fingers. She pushed the swelling energy forward, into the leaves and branches of the plant, driving it into deep into the dirt, felt the plant become stronger and more nourished.
The green in each leaf seemed to intensify, and the branches thickened slightly as Chihiko poured her chakra into the plant's cells and molecules.
"We must all grow…" shutting off the flow of chakra, Chihiko lowered her hand, referring to the potential to develop as a student, not as a human being. The Aralia was only a few weeks old, but it looked to have been alive for nearly 3 months.
Turning away from the plant, her face becoming impassive once more, she marched through the door and down the hallway in her family's house. No one was home, save Kowani, the speckled calico cat that most often frequented the living room couch.
It was early morning, and although she tried to, Chihiko found it difficult to forget the previous day's dreary encounter with the Sound ninja and her sensei's unraveling in the face of an idiotic ruse. She had never seen Kichimata yield to a foreigner, especially one so brash and mean-spirited, and the entire experience was having a long-lasting effect on her spirits.
A furry tail brushed up against her bare kneecaps and Chihiko was roused from her thoughts. She looked down to see a chubby cat with long-aged whiskers, soft purrs cooing from the back of his throat. Staring into his startling green eyes that they seemed to both share, Chihiko saw that they were pleading for food.
"Kowani, how can you be hungry?" she asked, bending over to pet the short-haired feline on his head, causing his large eyes to squint in delight. The purrs grew louder as she continued to rub his eyebrows. He suddenly swatted at her hand, signaling that he was through being petted and desired something of a more nutritional value.
"You're not getting any food…so you can just stop that," Chihiko pointed a finger at the cat's nose, "Mother told me to only feed you at night."
As if he could understand the human tongue, Kowani gave a perturbed mew before trotting back to his normal sleeping spot, tail swishing behind him.
Glancing at the grandfather clock that occupied the house's only hallway, Chihiko grumbled slightly; she only had half an hour before she had to report to training. She ran her hand through her hair, but found her fingers mired by several knots. Her green dreads were getting clumpy and would require dedicated grooming. Although not finicky, Chihiko did prefer to tend to her hair ritually.
But today it would have to wait.
Knowing that tardiness would be punished severely, Chihiko rushed into the washroom, which was quite large for only three people: Chihiko and her parents. Mechanically, she grabbed the nearest, cleanest towel that she could find in the washroom's pantry and tossed it onto the floor. She found her auto-pilot taking control as she then twisted only the "cold" valve, not a spec of warm water filtering through the showerhead.
Quickly disrobing, Chihiko entered the bitterly cold shower which would have frozen any other individual. But there was no discomfort to her, only relaxation, as if it were familiar in some unknown way. For Chihiko, there was only cold water; anything above lukewarm would sear her skin and cause it to become irritated.
She snatched a nearby bottle of heavily moisturizing shampoo and began to lather her knee-length, white hair, scrubbing each of her chunky dreadlocks with her knuckles.
Once she finished, she twisted the solitary spigot counterclockwise, halting the flow of icy water. Wrapping the white towel around her thin, almost boy-shaped body, Chihiko wrung her hair with both hands over the tub, a massive deluge of excess moisture spilling into the off-white basin. Remembering that time was short and that drying her hair would take hours on end, Chihiko speedily twisted her damp hair, including the chin length bangs which parted in the middle of her forehead, into an immense bun, leaving her three dreadlocks dangling free.
Checking to make sure her towel was secure around her, Chihiko dashed back into her room, slamming the wardrobe wide open. Besides her sole casual outfit, a yellow outfit that was barely visible, the rest of her attire was constituted of crisp training clothes. There were at least 5 gi tops and 6 pairs of hakama pants hanging tidily on wooden hangers. Taking down the freshest set available, Chihiko dressed shortly thereafter, and was soon on her way out the front door, pant legs floating in the breeze.
------------------------------------------
The mid-May weather felt wonderful that day, with the trees swaying in the wind, the air full with the scents of spring's blossoms.
Chihiko loved this time of the year, when everything appeared to be alive, unlike the cold isolation of winter, when death seemed to linger on every tree's naked bough. But she knew that she had no time to idle and admire the scenery; it was nearly 10 am, and while the trees would still be here to marvel later, her teacher's patience was most likely waning.
Her straw sandals rapping on the cobblestone pathways, she nodded to several of the other villagers as she dashed by. They were all preparing to meet the day as well, setting up their carts and stores, cooking food in the restaurants and setting kettles to boil water for tea. It was if the entire village, not just its inhabitants, was coming alive.
She hurried onwards towards the center of town where the dojo was, and like always, Kichimata was standing there, in front of the building's sliding doors, a cane held in both hands.
He did not look pleased.
"Chihiko…" the teacher spoke softly as Chihiko neared the dojo's entrance. It was not the harsh tone of voice she had expected to hear, "I have a very special mission for you."
Chihiko came to a halt at her master's feet, back straight and arms to her sides.
"Hai, sensei," the girl answered with respect, honoring her master's authority over her.
The old man seemed almost at a loss, his eyes half-lidded, moustache drooping down his wrinkled cheeks. He sighed, looking at Chihiko with mixed emotions.
"The man from yesterday, Orochinaho, is attending to some matters with two of his students," Kichimata said, tapping the end of his cane on the stony path, "he has requested the chief that his third student stay in the dojo until his return."
Chihiko could tell that her sensei was not happy at all to be playing a babysitter, especially during Chihiko's training. But he was playing the good-Samaritan for the sake of the village's status.
"Thus, your training for today will be to accompany the boy," talking as if he were being disgraced, Kichimata stepped aside to allow passage into the wooden building.
"If that is your wish, Kichimata-sensei," Chihiko, although a bit perturbed to have her training forfeit, knew that if this truly was the will of the village chief, it would have to be done.
She bowed her head to Kichimata before walking passed him, pulling one of the doors on its track to the left. No sooner had she taken one step inside the dojo did she hear a loud, obnoxious voice ring out.
"God...being left here in this dumpy dojo is bad enough, but now I have to be with you?"
Chihiko cocked her head to one side in confusion, a little miffed by the sudden outburst. This dojo was the world to her, and hearing its name being slandered caused an uncommon surge of annoyance to travel through her.
"I mean, you're probably not even a Genin yet, rookie…Being in the same room with you might stifle my abilities," the boy finally moved into a ray of sunlight, and Chihiko was flustered to see the brazen youth who had attempted to steal from Eijiro's cart. He was still wearing his camouflage pants, but gone was the menacing "death" tabard.
"It's not like I take any pleasure in being here either," Chihiko returned, maintaining a cool expression on her face, "But I don't want to start a fight with you."
"Why? So you don't get your face mopped all over the floor?" smirking, the boy placed his hands on his hips, leaning to one side charismatically.
"No, so I don't have to wipe your sweat off our practice mat," careful not to cross any boundaries, Chihiko realized that this boy had no idea that she was a Chuunin already, while he was still a whole level under her. She didn't need any unnecessary bloodshed in the dojo.
"Pah! As if you could take me on…Orochima-….Orochinaho was right about this village," the boy said, words stumbling. Chihiko found it strange that he would forget his own teacher's name. It became evident to Chihiko that these students did not share a close rapport with their sensei. And who could blame them? He seemed like an intolerably nasty man to work with.
"And what is that? That we are a village composed of weaklings?" Chihiko shot back, defending her village's honor in her teacher's absence. She acted just as Kichimata would, or as she predicted he would. These were not her own feelings of anger, but rather those of her teacher being projected through her.
"Yeah…that's pretty apparent," he retorted, "I bet I could beat all of you wimps with one hand tied down!"
Chihiko realized that the boy was trying to challenge her. But she wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. She was a disciple of Aikido, it was not in her blood to give into some weak-minded instigation.
"Hey, can't you hear me? I SAID…"
"I know what you said, there is no need to raise your voice" Chihiko politely cut the boy off at mid-sentence, not in the mood for games. She continued, "I don't want to fight with you. If I am to be with you, please let it be peacefully…"
The boy seemed almost peeved, but his face also carried a hint of bewilderment. Here was a person who didn't want to fight? Even when he was slandering her village's name? Tapping his foot impatiently, the boy deduced that the girl was either too weak to challenge him, or that maybe she really didn't want to fight at all.
"Is that all you think about? Victory? There is more to life than fighting," Chihiko announced, her voice ringing with an almost musical quality.
"I would have to ask you the same thing…your teacher told us that you were his star pupil…I expected that fighting was all you lived for," realizing that the girl was wiser then she looked, the boy took a faltering step in reverse.
"It is true…I exist to train…I exist to uphold my teacher's, dojo's, and village's name," Chihiko stated, taking this chance to form a more nonviolent bridge of communication between her and the boy. Staring at the boy, making him uncomfortable and uneasy, she talked to him like a teacher to a student.
"However, I do not live to engage to needless, pointless battle. I only fight when told to, I only kick when I must."
Shocked by the girl's unwavering attitude, and her resilience to his crass remarks, the young Sound ninja realized that there is no use; he couldn't rile her at all.
"Okay, okay…I get the picture…you're not going to fight me…" he sighed, craning his neck, head tilted backwards.
He…he understood what I meant…Chihiko is astounded by this revelation, and it sent a shiver of excitement down her spine and into her toes. Never before had she been able to connect with another person, been able to speak her mind as such. For the first time, she was actually engaging someone in conversation.
Chihiko suppressed her thrill for a moment longer, not wanting to squander this wonderful new feeling. Closing her eyes briefly, she collected herself, settled her emotions.
"No…we haven't even introduced ourselves…" Chihiko said properly, bowing dutifully, "My name is Kawano Chihiko."
"Damn…don't you ever give up with the formalities?" the boy snorted, surprising Chihiko with his foul mouth, "My names Zaku…Abumi Zaku."
Chihiko, nearly coming apart at the seams with anticipation, sat down on her shins, announcing physically that she wished to hold a friendly conversation. The corners of her lips tugged unconsciously, forming a smile that nearly caused her face muscles to ache. Her mind was bombarded with emotions and thoughts she had never felt before.
Is this what it feels like to have…a friend? she thought to herself, as she patted the wooden floor next to her, hoping that the visitor would comprehend her message.
Before now, it was only through the orders of her teachers that she continued on the shinobi path; she had no other way of the living. Although she always sought the opportunity to feel involved with the other village children, she lacked the personality to be respected, didn't have the will to be noticed by anyone other than her superiors.
Surprisingly, the ardent boy, ruffling his spiky hair with his hands, sat cross-legged on the floor, half-amazed that he wasn't kicking the girl while in such a vulnerable state. He hunched over, resting his elbows on his knees, shifting awkwardly.
"So, Kawano," began Zaku, irked that he had been denied the fist-fight he had hoped for, "Tell me this…I'm assuming you don't like to fight…so why do you even belong to a dojo in the first place?"
Puzzled by his inquiry, Chihiko tapped her lower lip with a single finger, thinking about what the proper response would be. It was unusual for someone to ask such a personal question. Normally, when told to act of her own will, Chihiko became confused and required the direction of those around her.
"Its because…its because it is my master's wish that I do so," Chihiko gave the only acceptable answer that she could muster, and upon seeing Zaku's uncertainty, she elaborated, "I am told by my superiors that I came to this village an orphan. I have no proper place in society. So therefore my teacher and the village chief have given me one. If it is their will that I become the beacon for this village, then it will be carried out."
Zaku stared at the girl with wide-eyes, confused by what he's heard.
"I have no other way."
Finished speaking, Chihiko sighs. In the past two minutes she'd opened her mind to someone that was not a teacher, diplomat, or village chief, something she'd never done in all the 13 years of her life. It was exhausting and tiring, but at the same time uplifting.
"So, you're nothing more then a tool?" Zaku replied, a little leery of her answer.
"Essentially…yes. But I prefer to be seen as a student."
"That's bullcrap. You just got done telling me a spiel about how you don't like to fight, but what you're saying is that all you live for is to fight…In my mind, that makes you a hypocrite," he responded angrily. But Chihiko had expected to hear this all along.
"No, there is a difference," she said, "Whereas there are those who live to kill others, I fight because I am told to. I do not go seeking confrontation, like the rogue who lives for chaos, but rather I respond to confrontation with a gentle palm, Zaku-san."
"But you also said that there is more to life to fighting. How do you figure that if what you just said is true?" said Zaku, raising an eyebrow, baffled.
"Maybe for others there is something more. But not for one such as I," Chihiko stated simply, as if this were all common-sense and nomenclature, "I was given my purpose because I could not find one on my own. If that makes me a hypocrite, then so be it. But I find myself to be an honorable soldier who fights for a higher purpose then just victory. I fight and train for those who are greater then I am, who have their own purpose."
"You're a weirdo, you know that Kawano?" Zaku nearly laughed, now finally easing up.
"Maybe, but what does that say about you, Zaku-san? You obviously have a lust for battle…is your cause honorable?" Chihiko squinted her eyes, her lips becoming accustomed to the act of smiling. Her heart performed back-flips from behind her ribcage, but she did her best not to show it.
"That's an easy question…I want to prove to everyone that I'm not just trash, that I can be great at something!" Zaku said, pointing a finger upwards, "That's my shinobi path…and that makes it honorable. If I have to defeat a hundred ninja to prove my cause, then that's just the way it'll have to be! No one gave me this mission…its something I want and have to do on my own…"
Breathless, Chihiko is instantly envious of Zaku, jealous that he had been able to find his path on his own. She instantly crawled back inside of herself, withdrawing her emotions.
"Hey…when I become a Chuunin…no…when I become a Jounin…maybe you'll have found your own way…" Zaku turned his finger toward Chihiko, her back becoming rigid now that she was in the spotlight, "When that happens, I want to fight you…it makes me sick to see someone who can't even fight or live for themselves."
Clenched hands pressing into the tops of her thighs, Chihiko tried her best to believe in Zaku's words, that what he said was possible. But her doubts resurfaced eventually, causing her cool exterior to crack and fade-through. She diverted her gaze towards the ground at her side.
"Zaku-san…I do not believe that day shall come. This has been my life for so long," she said, embarrassed, "It cannot change so easily."
"Then let's make a promise," Zaku said, "I'll see you once I become a Jounin. I promise! And then, if you've found a shinobi way on your own, you have to fight me…I think it's stupid to not live your own life. Sure, I listen to my teacher, but I don't live my life because he told me to, or anything. I have my own goals and stuff…my own dream."
Your own dream... Chihiko felt a rush of crestfallen hopes wash over her. To change her own life completely…it was something she simply could not even hope to do. For the first time in her life, she felt dissatisfied with living such a one-track life. She was dubious to believe that there was actually someone in this world who believed in her, and not just in her abilities as a fighter.
Lifting her eyes, she looked at Zaku, who looked at her with seriousness. He was not joking about his pledge.
"So…we have an agreement? I become Jounin, you find your own path, and then I come back and kick your ass, okay?" a smirk playing on his lips, Zaku spoke with a zeal Chihiko wasn't accustomed to. He then played with the loose ends of his bandanna, one hand behind his head.
"We'll be friends…always…even if I don't find my own path?" Chihiko asked in a meek voice.
"No. If that happens, I'm just going to come back and kick your ass anyway for being such a loser who talks big. I can't stand crap like that," he laughed, immediately unfolding his legs so that he could stand up. He stretched his arms, and continued, "If you're too wimpy to find your own path, then you deserve to have some sense knocked into you."
He punched his own hand for emphasis.
"Alright…" Chihiko finally concurred. She knew deep down that it was a worthless endeavor, but she agreed anyway, if only to humor the boy who had given her a sliver of hope.
"Alright…"