Chapter five : Parting of Clouds

Chihiko stirred as the first beams of sunlight shot past the window blinds, striking her closed eyelids with fresh warmth. She wrinkled her nose slightly, swatting the beams of light with the one hand that wasn't ensnared in her bed linens.

Wriggling free of an entwined blanket, the young girl realized that she had fallen asleep quite suddenly the night before. Her robes had nearly fallen off completely, much to her shock and embarrassment. As if a large spectator audience were present, Chihiko grabbed the blue sheet and swathed herself in it as quickly as it had been discarded.

Fidgeting with the sheet, making sure none of her skin was visible, Chihiko shifted into a seated position. She moved herself to the mattress' edge so that her long legs draped over, her feet flat on the wooden floor.

"Another day…" Chihiko mumbled, her eyes turned toward the window. Leaning so far that her back almost touched the bed, she grasped the cord to the blinds and pulled them open, allowing her room to be swallowed by daylight. The natural illumination invigorated her, roused her senses.

Removing herself from the Spartan bed, still bundled in her sheets, Chihiko mechanically reached down beside her for her duffle bag that usually rested next to the table.

Her muscles stiffened when her fingers touched thin air.

Chihiko felt her throat go dry as she looked down and gazed at the bare spot on the floor, nearly able to picture the dotted outline of her bag.

"Where is it…where is it…." she asked herself repeatedly, head turning this way and that, searching frantically. She knew very well and clear that it wasn't in the living room, or in the kitchen. After training, Chihiko always placed her duffle bag next to the wooden, chipped table to be used the next day. It held her books and sparring gear, not to mention the papers that outlined her eventual promotion to the Jounin-rank, all which had been hand-written and signed by the village chief and Hitaishii themselves. A few of them had even been written by her late sensei, Kichimata, before his death.

They were irreplaceable and therefore vital to her promotion.

Beads of sweat began to form in Chihiko's hairline, her face becoming scarlet with unease. Popping her head out the doorway, she peered down the hallway, seeing if she had perhaps dropped the duffle bag during the previous night's rush for the washroom.

But the corridor was absent of her gear, and it didn't take long after for Chihiko to realize her folly.

Eyes rolled into the top of her head, Chihiko lumbered back into her room, exhausted from her frenzied and somewhat wasted search. Plopping onto her bed, she slapped her forehead.

"Guess I know where my first stop for today will be," Chihiko said sarcastically. Today was one of her few days off from training, and she had planned on using it to relax, as well as to review her Jounin papers. It was only a matter of time before her promotion was authorized, and although it meant very little to Chihiko on a personal level, it would bring a greater sense of pride to the community as a whole. She would join the village's three other Jounin if her evaluation went through positively, which was inevitable to say the least.

Glancing at the vacant spot on the floor once more, Chihiko sighed and started to dress for the day.

------------------------------------------

It was a rare occasion for Chihiko to wear anything but her hakama and gi. This was due to the fact that she literally practiced in the dojo everyday, save one Friday a month.

Today was that Friday.

As she walked down the road, her gait swifter then a casual walking speed, Chihiko rubbed the sides of her arms, not accustomed to wearing her only set of casual clothes, or the attention it garnered.

Not only was it immensely more colorful then her training attire, but it was also far less conservative. It consisted of a white, corset-like shirt with yellow trim that bared her shoulders and had a zip front with panels of fabric on her sides.

Her arms were covered by yellow sleeves that weren't attached to the shirt. They fit tight and snug to keep them from slipping off when she moved about. Her feet, normally exposed when she wore her straw sandals, were now completely hidden from view in a pair of yellow boots which had metals straps going across the tops of them.

In contrast, Chihiko's slender, lithe legs were very visible under the yellow skirt she wore, which fell to her upper thighs and had a small slit on the right side to aid in mobility. Long strips of white bandage covered her entire left thigh, as were both of her hands. Finally, around her neck was a cord of red leather, wrapped around several times before being tied in the front.

Many villagers, mostly those from the male-end of the gender spectrum, turned their heads as the young Kunoichi passed by, her white hair twisted into a long braid that trailed behind her like a tendril. She blushed as several young-boys waved "hello" to her, causing her to give a bashful nod as she picked up her pace, the heels of her boots traipsing over the dirt and pebble street.

"I don't even know why I bother…" she murmured under her breath, crossing her arms in front of her in a lame attempt to hide herself. It was just too different from her normal garb, one that afforded her more modesty. But it was against dojo policy to wear her uniform outside of practice or on recreational days.

Thankfully she wasn't the slightest bit cold, even if she was wearing little more then a tube top and mini-skirt. Her immunity to chilly temperatures wasn't restricted to just bathing water, but atmospheric conditions as well.

A breeze festooned with red and golden leaves fluttered by, picking up Chihiko's long braid on its way, her bangs dancing wildly like flickering embers. She relished this sort of weather, when all others were bundled tightly in their kimono jackets, packing away their summer clothes. It would be another two months before Chihiko even considered pulling out her winter apparel.

She loved autumn, the changing of the leaves, the crisp air that seemed to tingle with the subtle energy of change. Hot weather of any kind annoyed her, made her sweat immensely; she couldn't fathom why anyone would want summer instead of winter.

Chihiko continued down the main street towards the dojo, not in any sort of hurry. It wasn't like her bag would sprout legs and shuffle off by itself. Besides, she wanted to savor the September chill.

Then Chihiko remembered her role in life, her shinobi way, and she sighed.

Chihiko could still feel a scrutinizing eye cast over her, making her feel on guard. She was always at the whim of her superiors, always on duty. She stood tall, walked properly and spoke properly at all times. She was a beacon for the village; there was no time for recreation even when she wasn't in the dojo.

Still hugging herself, Chihiko paused for a moment as she passed the home of the village chief, peering at the tall, shingled roof. On each corner rested an ornamental stone fish, their mouths open wide. In contrast to the other buildings in the village, this one seemed magnificent, with its massive, mahogany doors, sprawling ceremonial scrolls and brightly colored lanterns that swung gently in the breeze.

It was a beautiful house, but it still didn't hold a candle when compared to a legendary mansions of the Kage, the lords of the five great shinobi countries. Nothing in the village could compete with those nations…

Except me… she thought, mouth firm. She found her feet moving by themselves as she walked up the steps towards one of the windows, looking in its semi-reflective surface. As she stared at her self, not impressed by what she saw, a muffled voice emerged from within the building, speaking rather loudly.

"Chihiko-san will be fine as a Jounin…she is not too young for such a title…" Chihiko's ears perked as she heard her name being said. She instantly recognized the voice of the village chief. Not wanted to look suspicious, as if she were spying, she leaned up against the house casually, one leg tucked up behind her. It didn't take much guesswork to figure out who the village chief was speaking to.

"Onoda-Sama, I realize that you want to increase our ranks…" Hitaishii said from behind the window, sounding almost as concerned as Chihiko's mother.

"But you cannot rush this…she still needs time to develop as a human-being. She still acts like a uniformed soldier both in and out of practice. She's not mature enough…"

"Is that not what we need? Soldiers? Hitaishii, we need people like her to fight for us. Sanraku and Munoto are past middle age…soon their abilities will lessen, diminish, and finally die out," Onoda said, his voice stern and intelligent, "She is the only one with the strength and skill to become a Jounin. Kichimata had faith in her ability…now that he is gone, I must ask that you do the same."

There was a moment in which Chihiko's sensei seemed to mull things over, thoughts churning.

"Hitaishii…we cannot let Konoha dwarf us any longer…" Onoda continued after the teacher failed to respond.

Chihiko felt her cheeks blush with honor, to be so needed by the village, by the chief himself.

"Why must we always compete with Konoha?" Hitaishii said, finally breaking his silence, "We are separate from them, there is no need for such competition."

"There is always competition...we are only allies in the lamest sense," resolute, Onoda spoke in the plainest of voices, "Even now, I'm sure that the other smaller nations are just like us, thinking of ways to become better, stronger…all to be comparable to nations like Konoha."

"But to what end? What do we earn from this…" Hitaishii asked.

The elderly chief laughed, voice cracking with amusement.

"Pride…pure and simple," he exclaimed, entertained by Hitaishii's naivety. "If we can increase our numbers, then we can offer more services to the surrounding villages. With this, our reputation will improve. It is especially important that we do this now, after the failed invasion on Konoha."

"You sound disappointed, Onoda-sama," Hitaishii noted with curiousness, "Konoha is not our enemy, we should be happy that the Sound Village's attempt to overthrow them was prevented."

Listening to each and every word, Chihiko breathed through her nostrils and tugged at the red rope tied around her neck in an attempt to quench her nerves. Hearing news of Zaku's village had increased her interest a thousand fold, made her back stiffen, pulling her from her languid position into a more prying one. From what Hitaishii was saying, it seemed as if the Zaku she knew wasn't the real Zaku at all…

She didn't want to think of him as the enemy, but…

"Happy? Why should I be so happy, to feel so defenseless because we have so few shinobi?" Onoda retorted, angered at Hitaishii's lack of patriotism. "If Konoha had not defeated them, then we'd probably be burned to the ground by now and those three Sound brats that we carelessly allowed to enter our village 2 years ago would still be alive!"

Chihiko felt a small piece of her crack and crumble away, like an old piece of brick finally succumbing to years of abuse. A part of her wanted to scream, another told her to run.

No…no…no…her mind fumbled, thoughts staggered as she clasped her hands to the side of her head, the rest of her masters' conversation blocked away.

It can't be true…just can't be…this is just a lie…all a lie…

Everything seemed to become very quiet as Chihiko's heartbeat swallowed her up. Her legs shuddered and almost buckled, her tongue dry within her mouth. She felt dizzy, knocked senseless, as if she was fast asleep, and this was all some very bad dream. Her feet seemed to sink into the floor outside the chief's home.

Run she told herself, teeth gnashed together. Her legs responded slowly at first, feet as heavy as lead weights, still mired by her confusion.

RUN!

Eyes closed for a moment, Chihiko willed herself to fly down the steps and back onto the road, arms pumping wildly, feet kicking dust behind her. She raced past the merchants and villagers, not caring that she nearly collided with a few of them, ignoring their calls of anger as she whipped by callously.

Chihiko could only hope that in a few moments, she would wake up, back in her bed with blue sheets.

But she knew all too well that it wasn't going to happen like that.

She was no longer in some fantasy world.

The dojo appeared before her like a building of sanctuary, her place of peace. Her feet moved up the stairs, carrying her higher and higher. She felt nauseous, ready to pass out at any moment, barely holding onto consciousness.

Before she even reached the front door, Chihiko had the key out and ready, clutched in her right hand. Her nose was shriveled in an effort to hold back the sobs and her eyebrows were so tightly drawn up and scrunched, it looked as if someone were pulling on them forcefully.

She tried to insert the rusted key into the single padlock, struggled to keep her thin fingers from trembling. But try as she might, it was impossible to hold still. The key finally fell loose from her quivering hand and clattered across the stairs, tumbling into the grass.

The girl slammed a single hand against the solid, heavy door as a thick trail of salty tears fell down around her nose, onto her chin, and finally off of her face.

"Zu-Zaku-san…" she stuttered, words barely escaping her mouth, heart thudding sadly within her sore ribcage. "You promised me…you promised me…"

She wanted to believe the impossible, that what she had heard was all some lie. But the truth was beginning to overwhelm her. She tried to convince herself otherwise, but now she found that it made the obvious reality that much more apparent and painful.

The answers were so far away from her. Everything was so blurry.

This can't be true…I have to find out… her mind jogging, Chihiko eventually realized that the truth could not be found within this village. It was off in some far away place, somewhere foreign and strange.

But there was no way she could leave; it would be the ultimate crime against the village, what with her promotion only days away. Despite her every wish, she couldn't disobey Hitaishii or Onoda like this, couldn't insult Kichimata's memory with such insolence.

Her heart sagged with grief, trapped in this prison of obedience. She couldn't fight her own fate, she couldn't keep her end of the promise she had made so long ago.

I can't do…anything… the tears from Chihiko's eyes flowed freely as she slammed the door again, frustrated, helpless and confused, cursing her emotions and the agony they caused her. A shinobi was supposed to remain steadfast on the battlefield. At that she was failing miserably.

From behind her, Chihiko heard slow, solemn footsteps. Someone walked up towards her and put both hands on her shoulders, as if to console her. A voice, one that was dry and airy, started to speak.

"I know your pain…now let me help you get what you need…"