Chapter twelve : Willpower
Hot.
Too hot.
Sweat was building in every bend of her body, behind her knees, beneath her chin and under her breasts. It made her entire body feel slick and filthy, especially since she had yet to shower and grime caked her skin heavily.
"Mother…" she spoke wearily, almost questioningly. At first, she wondered why her regular bed sheets had been replaced for ones that were far too capacious.
"Mother?" Chihiko called out again, this time a little stronger.
Still nothing.
Her parents should be home, it was a Saturday after all, right? Father would be down the hall making breakfast, probably some kind of egg omelet, and Mother, she…
Egg omelet.
"Ishiraku…" her mind was a garbled jungle of erratic thoughts. She flinched, her hair plastered to her neck, sopping wet from sweat. The girl could feel the ridges in her cheeks from her pillow even before touching them with stiff, fidgeting fingers. Her hands shook uncontrollably as she traced the fissures on her face, barely able to keep them still, nervous energy coursing through her rested body, eager to move around though her mind was still numb.
"Why...where..."
More questions, only to be answered with more confusion as Chihiko's senses fought to sharpen. Desperate to keep her hands from quivering, she grasped the comforter beneath her, expecting it to feel rough and course. Instead it was smooth, softer then it should be, velvety and luxurious, and then there was simply no mistaking it.
Chihiko was not in her home.
Her eyes were partially coated with crust, and probably dirt, and that made the task all the more difficult. Frustrated, Chihiko scratched away the gunk with her fingernails, digging away at the outer coating carefully. A small bit fell into her half-open mouth and she sputtered indignantly. It was salty and bitter, and the taste collided harshly with that of morning breath.
"God, I feel terrible," Chihiko moaned, still not quite sure of where she was, or why she wasn't in her cheaply adorned room. Hadn't she just been dreaming? The fight with the green-clad boy, the confrontation with the fifth Hokage…it all seemed too fantastic and unbelievable. Yet it was all true. She was in Konoha now, far from her home village, away from the quiet and peace and the mundane.
There was no point in trying to convince herself that this was some sort of dream. Chihiko wasn't so naïve or childish to resort to such silly escape-tactics, and the sooner she got on with her life, the better.
Nearly fully awake, Chihiko stretched her legs a little, twisting her ankles until they felt limber enough to stand on. Her face still felt a little flushed and poofy, and there was no telling how awful her hair must have looked. Nearly three days had passed since she'd had a decent shower or meal, and immediately her stomach growled, empty and unhappy.
Clumsily and bereft all of her usual grace and elegance, Chihiko slumped out of the bed and was surprised to find that it sat nearly a foot higher then her one back in the Waterfall village. The squashy comforter slid off with her, piling onto the ground like a flattened marshmallow around her feet. It was still frightfully warm, and the gaps in between her toes began to sweat uncomfortably, causing Chihiko to squirm. Kicking it away, the girl, now completely in tune with her situation, sighed regretfully.
She didn't hate Konoha…actually there was little in the world that she hated. But she simply didn't want to be here, didn't want to sleep in this bed, or live in this palatial estate. But it was all she had; there was no going back now. Every action bore a consequence.
The room was dark. Someone had apparently closed both of the windows, allowing the room to become stiflingly hot and close. Fanning herself with a single hand lackadaisically, Chihiko moved towards the back of the room, socked feet shuffling on the carpeted ground. Pulling on the window's latch, she let them swing open, a chilly wind flowing into the balmy bedroom, tossing the white curtains about. Relief instantly filled the girl as she let herself be enveloped by the soothing draft that seemed to absorb her sweat and ache and pain like a sponge.
High up in the Hokage's mansion, Chihiko peered into the night sky, glad that her room afforded such a beautiful view of the city. There was no arguing that Konoha was spectacular, even at night. It seemed to be just as lively and animated in the evening as it did in the morning, maybe even more so, for lanterns and candles now glowed within the crowded streets like oversized fireflies floating stationary in the air. The entire town seemed to emanate a powerful stirring, an energy that pulsated and surged freely throughout the entire city like the hand of a god. Chihiko's eyes sparkled as she continued to gaze dreamily at the city, wondering if she could ever come to forget all of this, or if it would haunt the rest of her life like some distant wish. Once again she was reminded of her own town, of that quaint place with its farmers and below-average shinobi and their hateful, jealous leader.
"I have my way of life, I have my teacher, I have my teacher…" she said to herself, repeating the last part to herself over and over like a mantra. Now that she had seen the outside world, witnessed the opalescence of Konoha and the good-natures of its citizens, Chihiko had a hard time believing that there was much that her home village had to offer. Konoha had riches, it had people of high-stature and impressive warriors spilling out of every orifice. But there was nothing that could convince the reserved kunoichi that there was a better teacher, a better person, in Konoha that could replace Hitaishii. At times he was more of a parent then her own, and they weren't even her real parents.
His kind and intelligent face shielded her eyes from the Konoha nightlife, keeping her mind in focus on what she really needed, not what she thought she might want.
One man was all it took for Chihiko to understand that this town was not meant for her. She had to trust in him, for now there was little else that was sacred. Her village chief was most likely furious, and her mother and father were without a doubt probably disgraced by her actions. She felt selfish, having left them with no word of where she was going, that she would be safe and that she would return. But at the time, it was what she thought she had to do, for herself, for her own conscience.
A tear, small and embittered, found its way out of her one eye. Chihiko placed a single finger beneath her nose as she sniffed, sad and lonely in this expansive town that she was so out of touch with. Her eyes closed as she felt a dull hurt in her chest that made her heart sore.
Everything was her fault. Peering down at the city, she could see the crumbled section of the hospital that she would be tasked with rebuilding. Her disregard for authority had caused that destruction.
Even in Aikido, 'the way of harmony', there are times when you simply must act first…
"I know this," Chihiko spoke out loud, fully conscious that her deceased teacher, Kichimata, would not answer her. There was no one here to ridicule her, there was nothing to stop her from seeking solace in the words of her former teacher.
"It's just…it's just I can't help but feel this way…even if I was tricked….even if it wasn't all my fault…"
I think it's stupid not to live your own life…I have my own goals and stuff…my own dream…
"Zaku…why did you have to die?" she sobbed a little, wondering if maybe she had been in his thoughts before he was murdered.
It's easy to blame yourself for everything in situations such as this, but it isn't right, and it won't change the past…
For a moment her breaths stopped short, caught in her throat. At the time, she had simply disregarded the Hokage's kindness, but now, alone in the quickly cooling room with no one but the comments of the dead to think about, Chihiko found herself revisiting what Tsunade had said.
Just as the older woman's touch had kindled a newfound sense of well-being, her words cut through the murk of doubt that swirled in Chihiko's heart.
It was too late for sad ruminations and with a curt nod to no one but herself, Chihiko realized that it was simply time to move on rather than dwell in disbelief and insecurity. She had a task to uphold, as well as her own village's dignity. Casting a glance at the world below her, at the city she owed one last obligation to, Chihiko separated herself from the window and walked towards a small room connected to the bedroom. Her worn and calloused feet scrunched when they hit cold bathroom tiles, an icy chill weaving through the tattered fibers of her socks, but at least she knew she was going in the right direction.
Feeling around the walls for a panel of any sort, Chihiko pressed on the first small button that she found. A row of soft lights clicked overhead, illuminating the room in a warm light that was neither stark nor too weak that it wouldn't penetrate the looming darkness.
There was fine porcelain everywhere in the bathroom which, quite expectedly, matched the rest of the mansion in its cleanliness and presentation. Stepping delicately onto a single circular rug, Chihiko removed her grubby clothes, unzipping her corset-shirt and slipping off the unattached sleeves, letting her skirt slide down her scratched thighs and calves. She took her time unraveling her arm and leg bandages, slowly uncoiling the thin strips of fabric, relishing in the satisfaction of being out of battle at last. Her bare skin soaked in the fresh air once more, finally able to breath now that it was unfettered.
Her fingers massaged the tired flesh of her legs, worn from so much running and fighting. Fingernails cascaded across the soft surfaces of her body, gliding effortlessly despite the thin layer of dirt, until she reached the top part of her left thigh. Suddenly her skin lost all of its suppleness and became hard and rigid, nails rapping and making a sort of raking noise. Chihiko paid no attention and began to itch the seemingly wooden surface, pieces of her skin flaking onto the ground like chips of bark.
All her life she had been aware that there was something different about her, something alien and bizarre. The strange epidermis that seemed to travel all the way from her upper thigh to just below her below button, was the only physical thing that set her apart. The most talented doctors and specialist had no answer for why she was like that, and could only tell her that it was growing, consuming more and more of her body as she aged, like some kind of visible plague.
She cared little for the growth; it distanced her further from the other citizens of the village, more so then her abilities as a kunoichi or her remarkable life as an orphan did. Plus at times like these, after battle and when unclean, the folds of the bark-like skin became infected with mold or other parasites. It was like eczema for a tree, and at the moment it was driving Chihiko crazy, her fingers working like ants to remove the filth with little success. As more of her skin was replaced with the oaken-hide, she feared that she was becoming less and less human, and more like the machine or monster people expected her to be, like their projected fear of her was changing her into something else.
Something she didn't want to be.
Bits of wood jammed underneath her nails, Chihiko breathed heavily, trying not to focus on the perpetuating, maddening itch. A burning sensation that had been building from the constant scratching was beginning to plateau into a persistent throbbing. She glanced around the well-furnished bathroom, trying to keep her mind occupied with anything other then her uncomfortable leg. There was a toilet, a vanity and chair, and most importantly a standing shower with a set of plush lavender-colored towels next to it.
Pulling off what little else she was wearing, Chihiko practically leaped into the shower, twisting the spigots so that a deluge of water poured out over her, cold and wonderful against her sweaty skin. For a moment she simply let the water wash away worry, doubt and whatever else was on her mind, her long hair becoming sodden and heavy. As the icy stream flowed over her, it gently flushed out the dirt from her wooden-skin, and Chihiko almost groaned with pleasure and relaxation.
Grabbing a small, travel-sized bottle of shampoo, Chihiko wrenched it open, the paper seal snapping off easily. Oozing some of the sweet-smelling goo over her head, the girl leisurely kneaded her ratty hair, combing her fingers through the tangled strands, breathing in the delicious perfume of the shampoo. The conditioner felt just as succulent, softening her dry hair, thirsty for moisture.
Grabbing a wrapped, and then quickly unwrapped bar of soap, Chihiko scrubbed her body, genuinely tossed into ecstasy from the sheer satisfaction of finally being clean once more. A quick rinse, and the girl slowly turned the spigot off and groped outside of the shower to grab a solitary towel.
Wrapping it around herself, Chihiko soon realized that she was in a bit of a bind. Her clothes, while still in relatively one piece, were horrible dirty and now covered in a sheet of her peeled "skin". Mumbling some less-than-girlish words, she picked up the garments and shook them over a trash bin that was tucked next to the toilet, trying to keep more or less all of the chips off the floor.
She walked back into the bedroom and tossed the clothes onto a nearby chair. Tightening the towel around her body, Chihiko bent down and unlatched the pouch from her skirt, hoping that the top flap of the small bag had kept the inner contents clean. With a content smile, she pulled out a pair of fresh undergarments that were amazingly still crisp and slipped them on. Patting her skin dry with the towel, Chihiko then twisted her hair into a massive turban-style wrap, one that was both heavy and cumbersome, but there was no faster way for her hair to dry.
"Now…what to wear…" tapping her lips with her fingers, Chihiko sauntered around the room casually, not quite sure where to look, or if there was anything that she could even look for. A rather large wardrobe caught her keen eyes, and following a gut-feeling that couldn't be ignored, she opened the wooden double-doors. At first her heart sank a little in her chest, as it appeared to be empty, several bare hangers latched onto a single pole that ran along the top of the wardrobe. But she peeked inside, and her diligence was rewarded when she spotted a single robe, nearly invisible because it was so far to the left side. Chihiko yanked it off of its hanger, causing the metal to clang against the wooden interior of the wardrobe, and ripped away the protective plastic covering. In a single swirling motion, she wrapped herself in the comfortable robe, tying the sash around her slender waist. It was very plush, made out of a nearly indulgent fabric that she'd never felt before, softer then the freshest of down and yet breathable like cotton.
Knock…knock…
The rapping that came at her door was minute, subtle, almost unperceivable. Chihiko twisted her head to look at the door. She was certain she had heard it, but then again, maybe it was at a different door in the hallway. It was very late; who would be here, and why?
Making absolutely sure that her robe concealed her body, Chihiko edged nervously towards the door. There was a small eyehole, but it was seated rather high and she had to get onto her tiptoes in order to peer through the glass opening. Through the hole, Chihiko saw the warped, fishbowl-lens image of the Hokage's attendant, who was looking rather tired.
"Chihiko-san? Are you awake, are you decent?" her muffled voice barely made it through the heavy door; Chihiko had to press her ear against the wooden surface in order to hear the last part.
Unlocking the door, Chihiko opened it to a slit, enough so that she could just see Shizune's pale face. The attendant bowed ceremoniously upon noticing that Chihiko had obviously just finished bathing.
"Omigosh!" she exclaimed, eyes widening as she averted her gaze, "I didn't know…I mean…I didn't mean…"
"Don't apologize, I've just finished, it's alright," Chihiko reassured the flustered woman, who was already blushing, "Is there something you need?"
"Well…urm…" composing herself, Shizune brushed imaginary dust from the front of her kimono, straightening her back as she continued, "I was just wondering if you needed anything. Do your clothes need to be laundered or are you hungry? Normally I don't tend to guests this late, but I saw that one of your lights was on and thought it best to check…"
"Actually, I'm glad that you stopped by. I could use both of those," turning away from the door, Chihiko snatched up her dirty clothes, careful to tuck her underwear deep into the pile. She returned to the door soon after and handed the bundle to the compliant woman.
"Very good. I'll have these cleaned and returned to you. In the meantime, you mentioned that you'd like something to eat," Shizune placed the small pile of clothes into a bag that laid next to her, "I figured you didn't want much when you first arrived since you were so exhausted. I'll have one of our chefs bring up something for you, ASAP! Is there anything in particular that you'd like?"
"Just some egg omelet with tea, please, if you can," Chihiko asked politely, bowing slightly in appreciation. Without another word Shizune picked up the bag of dirty clothes and retreated down the hallway. Chihiko watched as she disappeared out of sight, her stomach grumbling ferociously in anticipation. Her shoulders slumped a little; hunger was getting the best of her now and even after resting, she still felt a little weak.
A flash of light behind her caught the corner of her eyes and Chihiko spun around, curious. Now facing the window once more, Chihiko nearly jumped when another burst of ebullient light seemed to appear from nowhere out in the city. Eyes wide like those of a baby, wondrous and inquisitive, Chihiko skittered across the carpet, the cramps in her stomach a thing of the past. Leaning into the bay windows flat surface, Chihiko looked out past the open window, hoping to see the intriguing lights once more.
Flowers of sparkling radiance burst out, like gigantic blossoms made of stars and comets. All of the rainbow's beauty seemed to come to life right before Chihiko's eyes as the air above Konoha was painted with bursts of immaculate color.
Never before had she witnessed something so gorgeous and remarkable. She craned forward, trying to move closer to the starbursts, wondering just how they were created, where they came from. Every inch that she gained towards the lights was a victory. Now nearly hanging out of the window, the towel holding Chihiko's hair toppled over, but she disregarded it, enamored with the spectacle before her. As he wet hair fell around her face, she shivered, but only from the stirring in her heart, not from the frosty bite of the September night.
It seemed to go on for hours, those lights in the sky, foreign celestial bodies that surely musts have lost their way, and were now trapped within the earth's atmosphere. But every eruption of luminosity was like a gift to Chihiko, who had completely forgotten the pangs of hunger that were still biting in her stomach.
Perhaps there is beauty here yet…she thought to herself, as the last "flower" died in the night sky. Hair now dry from the breeze, Chihiko jumped off of the bay window, not quite sure when she had climbed up on it in the first place. Still enraptured by the display of color, Chihiko wondered if such beautiful scenes were common here, just as another knock came at her door.
"Guess its breakfast time," Chihiko said with a half-smile, wishing that she could dine with those lights, using their shine as her own.
------------------------------------------
And so things went on as only they could, with Konoha bewildering Chihiko at every turn. As the days passed, the young, "country-bumpkin" learned to understand how things transpired in the village, how to act, how to address those around her. It was all so different, but slowly, she felt herself grasp just what it meant to live in such a large, boisterous society. Chihiko discovered just how those "flowers" were made from chemicals and where the young children went to learn the way of the shinobi.
In the Waterfall village, there were no "Ninja Academies" or schools or anything. If there was potential in you, and you were lucky enough to be noticed, some random, almost always ancient instructor would be assigned to you and hopefully he would live long enough to teach you something valuable. That was how things were and always would be. Thankfully for Chihiko, she had displayed such promise that a younger teacher was eventually introduced to her, one that wouldn't die within the year.
Although there was no way for her to totally assimilate with the other villagers, Chihiko soon learned how to blend in a little more, become a nobody, a faceless entity. She didn't want to press her luck with anything, didn't want to put a toe out of line. When she wasn't in the mansion, she was always at the construction sites, keeping to her job, wearing baggy clothing that thankfully hid her face rather well. And when someone requested her attention or assistance, it was always given without a second thought. Complete and absolute obedience was necessary in order to remain anonymous. It had been the direct orders of the Hokage that only the leaders of the construction knew Chihiko's true identity, and that it not be revealed to any of the other workers. She wasn't here to make lifelong friends. The sooner she finished her job, the sooner she could be on her way home, that is, if there was a home for her to go back to.
Never did she even faintly desire to venture out into the village, not even to see the sights. The view from her bay window was enough to suffice. From there, she could explore enough of the village to satisfy her curiosity, see the people go to work, play, interact. There was a vast network of life down there, and although Chihiko secretly yearned to be a part of it, there was no way she could. She was too different, too unlike them, both in spirit and body.
They had their own life, had crafted for themselves a destiny. That alone made Chihiko an outsider.
Chihiko was most happy when she was with the Hokage, being questioned or monitored. While at first it had been unusual, if not downright creepy to have a board of faceless shinobi observing her actions, her temperament, her abilities, having Tsunade with her made things a little easier to deal with. She would give an order or ask her something from the blonde woman, and Chihiko would comply earnestly and quickly. It was simple and natural for Chihiko. Her life in the Waterfall village was one of servitude to both her teacher and her elder. This was very much the same. If she couldn't be training with Hitaishii, at least she could be under the direction of someone, anyone.
It was when she was dismissed that Chihiko became most confused. Like clockwork, once the shinobi had vacated the observation room in the mansion, Tsunade would approach the docile kunoichi and tell her the same thing:
"You are free to do whatever you want."
It unnerved Chihiko to be given that choice. Since she had left the world she knew behind, made that terrible decision, Chihiko had become mortally afraid to risk it again. She realized that perhaps she wasn't able to think on her own, that the only thoughts she should think were the ones planted in her by her superiors.
Choice led to action, which led to mistakes. This was the only thing Chihiko believed, what she knew was true and terrible.
And so she would go back to her room, her little monastery, where no one could judge her further, fabricate perceptions of what she was or could be, until she was called to work on the building restorations once more.
It was just better that way.
But life is funny, and no amount of shyness or secrecy can hide you from some of things it throws at you.
Chihiko was to learn this sooner than she realized, only a week into her occupation in Konoha.
The workers were nearly done rebuilding a broken store, the second of two, and although the air was becoming increasingly chilly as the world approached October, Chihiko's face was sweating uncontrollably from behind her safety goggles. They were humorously large, but there was only one size available, and she wasn't about to complain to the foreman, especially when they were this close to finishing. Hands working diligently, she carefully used a cement edger to finish the outer wall of the building, her hair tied behind her in a haphazard bun in order to keep it out of her face.
Many of the other men had questioned just why a young, frail-looking girl, with no previous history in the construction business, was being put to work here. The foreman's only response was that she was being forced to do so by orders of the Hokage, and that no other questions be asked. It didn't take much after that to convince the worker's to stop their prying; no one in their right mind would doubt the Hokage's will. For Chihiko, this was a good thing. If the men knew that they were out here, working their tails off in what they must have thought was freezing weather (for Chihiko, it was still rather pleasant), because of her summoned tree, things would turn ugly very fast for the young kunoichi.
Scraping the tool into a bucket of murky water, Chihiko breathed heavily, the lenses of her goggles already foggy and hard to see through.
"Hey you, girl."
A surly voice came from behind and Chihiko quickly turned around. She was used to being addressed this way, and didn't protest.
"Yes, sir?" she answered promptly, rising to her feet, patting her gloves together to shake away the debris and dried, crusty cement.
"You're done for today. We just need to wrap up a few things and then we'll be heading home as well," the man spoke in a condescending voice, as if she had no right to be here in the first place. This was a man's world, Chihiko couldn't fight that.
"Why don't you go home and finish your Genin homework or something."
Chihiko nearly wrinkled her nose in disgust. The least they could do was treat her like a teenager, not some baby. But she bit her tongue, remembered why she was here in the first place. She was repaying her debt.
"Thank you sir, I'll do that," voice curt and short, she quickly turned away, removing her goggles and leather gloves, tossing them aside into a pile of unused construction gear. Still a little perturbed by the man's patronizing attitude, Chihiko marched down the street, eager to return to the mansion so that she could clean-up.
Afternoon was quickly coming up on evening, and it wouldn't be long before the night crowd ascended into town, with their gallivanting and drinking and boisterous laughter. It was the realm of adults, one that Chihiko was both fearful and uninterested in.
Her feet stepped lightly and rapidly, her baggy pant legs swishing against one another noisily as she hurried to the northern most part of town, towards security and seclusion.
It must have been the shades that made her look back. They caught to light at a peculiar moment, causing a flare that lit up his entire face like a beacon.
Chihiko gasped as she turned around on one foot so wildly that at first she thought she might lose her balance. She gave an exasperated breath and blinked twice, thinking that perhaps fatigue was making her see things that simply were not so.
But there he was, back there in the street, walking in the opposite direction.
His hair was spiky, instantly recognizable even in the dimming light, and Chihiko realized that if she waited the young man would disappear just like the sun in the horizon.
At first she did nothing. This was chance, and chance was evil, bad, not needed. A river would always lead to the ocean and things were happy that way. There was no need for that to change, no need to rock the natural equilibrium. Chihiko knew that if she spoke to him, the boy who she knew was the same person in that old photograph, things would never be the same.
We'll be friends…always…
She clenched her arms. This was no time to be a coward of fate, for what else could have brought the two of them to the same place? Biting her lower lip, eyebrows pulled together, Chihiko opened her mouth to speak.
"Wait! You!" she timidly called out, much too quietly for him to hear, and he continued to stroll down the street nonchalantly. Chihiko swallowed, skin blanching in fear of losing this one, precious chance. She cleared her throat and called out again, "Please! Wait!"
This time her words reached the person's ears and he paused. Although he did not make a move to turn around, Chihiko at least had captured his attention. She made her way back up the street towards him, heart palpitating nervously against the walls of her body, palms sweaty. Her hair was halfway out of its slipshod bun, but she didn't care; she had to make sure he didn't walk away.
When she was only a few feet away, Chihiko stopped, a little scared and very anxious. Although the man had no idea why he was being approached, there was no telling what his reaction might be; he was enigmatic, his head hidden behind of the collar of his shirt, which was further obscured by a pulled-down hood.
"Um…please…can I speak with you…" Chihiko felt her lips trembling, saying the only words she could conjure. Suddenly, the young man turned to face her, the lowering sun silhouetting his composed body. From behind those dark sunglasses, Chihiko could feel suspicious eyes probing her, looking down at her. A delicate shudder graced the back of her neck and from underneath her work uniform goose bumps were forming all along her arms and legs. Without warning, he took a large step towards her; Chihiko nearly leapt back in alarm.
"What do you want? Do I know you?" his voice was sinuous yet dark, and although there was a rich warmth to his voice, there was also something else, something strong and fierce and most of all, dangerous. Her next words would have to be chosen carefully.
"I don't know you…but you knew a friend of mine…from long ago," her back stiffened as she let the shinobi look her over, decide whether or not to entertain her with a conversation. Much to her surprise, he remained steadfast, although his eyebrows were arched in incredulity. She felt like an animal's prey. She was at his mercy now.
"And who might that be? I know few shinobi, and of those, they have never mentioned anyone like you," he responded, shoving both of his hands into the pockets of his hoodie-jacket. Hoping that he would at least take her seriously, Chihiko mustered up her usual resolve and coolness, treating this confrontation like a formal-affair, and not some personal matter. She had told herself that choice was a bad thing, something to avoid, but she couldn't ignore this once in a lifetime opportunity, not when her friend's memory was at stake. This was nothing more than a battlefield.
"You didn't know him for long, he wasn't a friend of yours, not even a Konoha ninja. His name was Abumi Zaku and two and a half years ago, you fought him," Chihiko spoke clearly, determined not to falter although her heart trembled deep within her. If she was successful here, then perhaps her mission would not be a complete failure. The man in front of her seemed a little bit stunned to hear the name of the Sound shinobi, but it was hard to tell with his eyes shielded and mouth covered.
"Please, tell me what you might know about him…"
The man shrugged his shoulders and made a small noise under his breath. Chihiko's face became flushed with hesitation.
"I fought him in the Chuunin exams…can't say I expected to hear that name again after so long," the nameless man answered, looking Chihiko straight in the face. He continued, a sort of eerie emptiness in his voice, "He was a talented fighter, but his loyalty was misplaced. He was more of a monster then anything else, just like this master was."
Chihiko couldn't believe what she was hearing.
It was like someone was slowly driving nails into Chihiko's heart and lungs, the pain was gnawing and ever-increasing, shattering her bones and emotions at once. He was insulting her dear friend, and in doing so was making a vastly untrue opinion of her as well. An unlikely anger began to boil in her, and Chihiko tried to contain it, tried to let it simmer and die out.
"Why do you want to know about him? He was an enemy of Konoha, didn't you know?" the young man said, cocking his head to one side coolly.
The girl's eyes dilated as her final nerve snapped like a thin piece of glass tasked with holding a massive boulder. She had been able to hold back, bury the pain and the hatchet. But now, with her friend's reputation being flung into a muddy troth, the normally passive kunoichi couldn't contain herself.
"He was my friend!" she blurted out hotly, acting out of passion rather then reason. This shocked the boy, causing him to look around warily, wondering what he had said wrong. Instantly, the boy found himself both captivated and chary of the suddenly fervent girl, her white hair raised with ardor, mouth agape, teeth flashing.
"How can you be so judgmental when you didn't even know him…didn't you know he was tricked by Orochimaru, just like me?" she continued, but the moment the question leaked out of her mouth, she regretted it angrily. Slapping a sweaty palm over her mouth instinctively, Chihiko stared at the young man who looked rather either amused or perplexed.
Another step and he gained some ground on her. Chihiko thought she could see the fibers in his jacket and the pores on his face, but still nothing past those unfathomable sunglasses that made her feel overly exposed.
"I see…so that's how it is, you're the one who caused all of that," voice deep and controlled, the inscrutable boy nodded his head back towards the construction sight as Chihiko stood transfixed and silent, cursing her foolishness. Would he expose her to the other villagers? Had her reasonably peaceful life in the village come to an end? If she ran, the boy would only become suspicious, but if she stayed…what else was there to do?
Say something!
Chihiko's mind fought back at the unbreakable resistance. Her heart had clogged her throat and no amount of coughing was going to remove it.
You have willpower, don't you?
"I…he…" the girl struggled to speak, clawing to find her voice again, hoping that she wouldn't cave in, that her willpower wouldn't die on her, "Zaku was my friend, my only friend. He was tricked, just as I was…he was no monster, and neither am I."
For a while, nothing was said, not from Chihiko or the boy. Everything became silent and agitated. They were in their own bubble, where nothing could enter or exit. What had been started by Chihiko had to end here as well. There was no turning back from this.
The breath of air that had been held in Chihiko's lungs for so long finally found its way out of her, and she exhaled deeply, the color returning to her face, the pale pink flooding into her once limestone-white lips.
"I'm sorry for yelling, I didn't mean to…" she spoke straightforwardly, her green eyes half-lidded in indignity, "I just…I just need to understand that Zaku must have been twisted, that the Zaku you fought what a different person from the person I cared for."
"Don't blame yourself," the boy responded, head tilted knowingly. The sincerity in his voice caused Chihiko's heart to shiver.
"People are twistable and easily controlled. It doesn't take much to make an innocent join the wrong side."
Chihiko realized with a shocking twinge who the boy was referring to and as a final nail in the coffin, he slowly removed his sunglasses, revealing a pair of unexpectedly hazel eyes, finally dissolving the physical barrier between them.
"I won't tell anyone who you are," eyes seemingly yellow in the dying light of the sun, the boy did not smile or even smirk. But Chihiko, always perceptive, sensed a sort of resonance in his words, a trill that pierced through his tough exterior. Though his emotions and feelings were guarded like a fortress, there was no mistaking that he was an honest person.
A single butterfly, probably one of the few still alive, ambled through the air clumsily, its gossamer wings catching what little light was left in the day. Navigating through the cold air, it fluttered past Chihiko's nose, barely touching her skin. Her eyes crossed momentarily before it continued on its way, moving in front of her and then towards the outstretched fingers of the young man. It landed tenuously on the back of his hand, little brittle legs clasping to the thin hairs on his skin. Chihiko marveled at the way he seemed to silently communicate with the normally skittish insect, how it responded to his subtle movements and signals.
Just as he had been wrong about her, Chihiko realized with a pang of embarrassment that her opinion of the boy had likewise been skewed. Humbled, the girl smiled a little as she reached out towards the butterfly, its swallow-tail wings flapping lazily, completely obedient to the mysterious boy who had a not-quite-so-there smirk on his face now.
The boy mouthed a few words, inaudible to Chihiko, and suddenly the insect moved onto her index finger, its tiny, nearly invisible feet clinging to the equally minute folds in her fingertip. An airy happiness pulled at her lips, causing her to smile, a genuine, awkward smile that felt foreign.
"It's a Crimson Rose, Pachliopta hector," the boy methodically explained as Chihiko examined the butterfly, hypnotized by the small creature's beauty, "I'm surprised to see one out this far from its home…this one must have a strong heart to be able to survive."
Once again his insinuations struck her heart like a hammer, causing her to look up at the boy. His allusions chimed clearly, causing her face to flush, her heart clenched in an emotion she had yet to identify.
"I'm from the Waterfall village," Chihiko decided to explain herself, there was nothing more to fear. As the butterfly finally lifted off of her finger, climbing higher into the sky, she continued slowly, "My name is Kawano Chihiko…"
The young girl realized that she was acting rather directly, opening herself to a complete stranger who by mere chance she was connected to in some bizarre way. The boy shifted a little, startled by the girl's frankness. She wasn't stupid, maybe a little sheltered, but perhaps that only intensified that certain something about her.
"May I have your name?" she asked, smiling again, and this time it was a little more natural. The boy stood still, his seldom-used voice having left him. She gulped, worried that her guilelessness had offended him.
"It's Aburame Shino," he finally spoke, as he put his shades back on, that little bit of vulnerable humanity sadly smothered. Perhaps she had gone too far.
"I'm sorry…I hope I haven't said anything wrong," she said quickly, hands clenched shaking, "Please do-"
"It's nothing, Chihiko-san…" Shino interrupted, waving a hand in front of her as if to dismiss any need to act contrite, "You had your reasons for being here. I'm sorry for what happened to your friend…and please accept my apologies. I didn't mean to offend you."
No one had ever said sorry to her. Never. None of her teachers had apologized to her or asked for her forgiveness. That was her job, what she was always meant to do.
Chihiko couldn't push back the complex urge to smile, so unused to this new feeling. Not since she met Zaku did she feel so…human.
Perhaps chance… she thought, looking back at Shino, who was now quiet as the grave. Although he was silent, Chihiko could tell that this would not be their last conversation, only the first of many. She couldn't say why, or when, or how. There was only that palpable feeling, that truth that shimmered in her sore and friendless heart that begged for human contact, even when she ignored the calling.
Perhaps chance wasn't such a bad thing.