Chapter 18: The Story of Miyuki Obanji, Pt. II

It had felt like a dream.

I hadn't wanted to believe that what had felt like a sick and twisted nightmare, could possibly be real. I didn't want to believe that everything I had held dear to my heart was gone, completely out of my reach. But, most of all, I didn't want to believe that now, now I was all alone.

But it was and within a few weeks I had been sent to live in the local orphanage, surrounded by children and adults I refused to connect with, refused to believe understood my pain and sorrow. Sure they had all lost someone, but no one had lost the way I had. No one had suffered the way I had and no one felt the weight of it eating at their chest the way I did. I spent days in bed, hours staring at the same spot on the wall, the horrors from that night becoming clearer in my mind, cementing themselves into my memory.

Food had come and gone and though I couldn't remember eating any of it, I remembered the plates piling up and the annoyance in the nurse's voices as they came in to clean. They complained of the "rancid smell" in the air, about how I rarely moved, how I had stopped speaking. They wondered out loud if I was mute now, if I was just a waste of a body, no soul. I had let them talk, let them pull me out of bed and drag me to the washroom. I had let them detangle my hair, bathe me, and shove fresh clothes back on. I let them push me back to my room and had always climbed back into bed, nestling into the familiar dent at the center, pulling the covers to my chin as I stared back at the same spot.

After a while, the nurses had stopped being nice. Weeks later, they had grown accustomed to pulling me out of bed and toward the playground. I was told I needed to stop acting so spoiled and like I was better than everyone else. They told me that now there was no difference between me and everyone else, we were the same.

But, I had continued to stare off stoically, continued to keep to myself. I would watch the other children play through narrow eyes, which was how I watched the newfound world around me. I felt empty inside, too tired to be angry and too tired to be sad. I just knew smiling was beneath me. I blamed myself, played over all the things I could've done better. But, what I thought the most about was the fact that no matter how much I thought about it, it wouldn't change anything. No amount of thinking and dwelling would bring them back to me.

I was empty, I was alone, and I was starting to believe the nurse's words about me being a waste of a vessel until he sat beside me one day, until he looked me in the eyes and asked me what I wanted. Until he told me that the only way out of my sadness and disappointment was to do something about it.

It had been a crisp fall day and I had been sitting in the same spot I always had on the deck. The leaves had turned orange and brown and had floated to the ground, crunching between the children's feet as they giggled and ran past. I had been pulling at the frayed ends of my shorts, my eyes trained to the ground when someone had slid down beside me I had assumed it was one of the nurse's and waited for them to reach down and pull me to my feet. But no hand came down and there was no sharp pull and slowly, very slowly, I turned my head up to the body sitting beside me.

He looked noble, regal almost with his long hair. His face was narrow, his cheekbones protruding and his eyes were a sharp golden color with narrow slits for pupils. His skin was as white as snow but not in a sickly way like my mother's had been. He had purple markings around his eyes and what struck me was the way he stared out at the children beyond us, a playful smirk lighting his lips and an alluring darkness behind his eyes. He caught me staring and looked down, shooting me a kind smile. My blank expression didn't change. I didn't return his smile and if he minded, he didn't show it.

"What's your name, little girl?" He asked, his voice holding an alluring edge to it, interest burning in his words.

I had wiped at my cheek and looked back at the playing children. Their laughter cut through the air, their smiles made my heart ache distantly. I could hear the nurses getting dinner ready, the clanging of pots and pans. I could feel the soft breeze brushing over my skin.

"I don't know." I had muttered, my voice coarse and I realized that over the past month I hadn't used it. My throat felt tight and dry, my mouth like sandpaper.

He had nodded in response, seeming to chew over my words before placing hands on his knees. He looked out at more than just the children this time, out at the village entirely beyond the gates. He took in the setting sun, the blood orange stretch of sky and the small marshmallow clouds floating in the air.

"How did you end up here?" He asked, a question not meant so much for me, but more for himself.

I remembered the screams and flinched, feeling the hot sting of tears in my eyes as I looked away. It came to me in flashes then, the memories. Sayuri's scream echoing through the halls, Nomaru's limp body thrown to the side, my other siblings scattered throughout the house, and lastly the feeling of Sayuri's blood splashing onto my face, the weight of it pulling down my skin. I coughed, sharp and hoarse and I could feel the faint burning rush across my chest, hovering over the spot where the sword had struck me. It had healed now, to a scar that was slowly fading away, but it still hurt every now and then.

I hugged myself tightly, trying to squeeze the memories away, trying to move away from it as the guilt rose in my chest, as I began to feel like I was about to explode. My house in flames and those murderers smiling down at me, their words like whips on my skin. Tradition. Bravery. Family. I was about to cry out when I felt the warmth of a hand come down on my shoulder. I looked up into the man's face to find a gentle expression looking back down at me. He was giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze, but the next words out of his mouth were everything but reassuring.

"What do you want, little girl?"

It sounded like such an odd question to me and it threw me off, made my eyes widen. I had a ton of answers circling my head, a hundred desires on my tongue. I wanted Sayuri back. I wanted everything that had happened to un-happen. I wanted to hold Sayuri again, protect her and tell her that everything was going to be alright one more time. I wanted to feel my mother's touch, feel her lips brush against my cheek. I wanted my father's hand to give me a reassuring pat on my head and to feel his over my own as he led me to school in the mornings. I wanted to hear my brothers and sisters laughing, wanted to see them running around and not these kids who blended into each other.

"I-I-" I flushed then, feeling overwhelmed, feeling my emotions high in my chest. So many wants, so many desires. I wanted them all again even if it was fleeting, even if it meant I could hold them all for just a second. A second was better than what I had now. A second was better than what I was living with.

"I don't know." I choked, tears sliding down my cheeks.

I had thought after that, surely he was done with me, this strange man with his strange questions. But he returned each day and each moment he sat with me he'd reveal just a little bit about himself. His name was Orochimaru and he was a great shinobi, a legendary ninja called a Sanin. He was from the Hidden Leaf Village, a majestic village I had only read about, the village whose Kage faces were carved into a stone wall, their powerful faces looking over the village, their gaze forward, to the horizon, or as Orochimaru had said, to the future. He told me of his teammates, fellow Sanin, a hot headed kunoichi with impossible strength and a flashy, eccentric pervert of shinobi. He spoke of his sensei, the current Kage of the Leaf Village, and subtly hinted at his own pain.

He ended each conversation with the same questions and finally I had managed to answer the first two, but failing to answer the last one. I told him of my pain first before elaborating on my family. I told him of my mother's beauty, my father's sage-like words, and my endless siblings. I never spoke of Sayuri, afraid that merely mentioning her would cause my memory of her to fade. But, then the last question would come and it would be just as hard to answer, the emotions stuck in my chest, all that I wanted heavy on my tongue, my mouth pressed into, no contorting into a deep scowl.

But, like all the other answers, I managed to give him one the night he came for me, the night he burst into my room, clamping a hand over my mouth to still my screaming. I had stared up at him, my eyes wide, my heart slamming in my chest as he stared down at me, sweat dotting his brow. He had pulled his hand away and I heard it, the distant sound of warring and loud voices, a raid of some sort.

"Miyuki." Orochimaru had breathed, panic in his voice. "I need you to answer the question."

I had blinked at him, confused. "Wh-wh—"

"What do you want, Miyuki?" He asked, his voice sharp, sharp enough to make me flinch.

I looked back, the sounds getting closer and closer. They were angry, furious and they scared me. I looked back at Orochimaru, his eyes focused on the window.

"I don't know." I managed, my voice low.

"No." Orochimaru growled, his brow knitting together with frustration. "You do know. You've known since the first day we spoke."

My eyes widened. He knew? He knew what I could barely wrap my head around? He knew what my jumbled emotions had made it hard for me to focus on? How? How did he know?

"Now, Miyuki." Orochimaru breathed, his voice shaking, his words slightly less frustrated. "Tell me, be honest. What do you want?"

The voices were close now, just at the front gate and I could hear the nurses running up the hall, hear the sound of the door downstairs getting kicked in. Icy fear filled my veins as I thought, really thought long and hard about what I could possibly want, what more the world could give me.

"You lost everything! Your family, your namesakes honor, your pride and your home. You've been thrown into this poor excuse of a livings place, thrown into a place where you'll become, where you're becoming, forgettable! Is that what you want?!"

He grasped at my shoulders then, shaking me as my eyes widened in my skull. I didn't want any of that. I didn't want to be forgotten, not really. I wanted to believe someone out there could care about me, that someone out there no matter what, wouldn't give up. I wanted my family back and Sayuri too, but I didn't want to be forgotten.

"Don't you want revenge? Don't you want to make your brother and sister pay for what they did to you? For taking your mother and father away from you? Your brothers and sisters? Don't you want them to pay for leaving you for dead? What about Sayuri?"

I gasped, the door flying open downstairs, thunderous voices filling the foyer.

"WHERE IS HE?!"

"WHERE IS THAT MONSTER?!"

"OROCHIMARU! WE KNOW YOU'RE IN HERE!"

I looked back at him, my breath in my throat. The mob, the angry voices, were all here for him.

"Now Miyuki what do you want? Tell me what you want!" Orochimaru snapped, his hands still on my shoulders, his voice urgent and beads of sweat sliding down the side of his face. I felt it then, a sharp surge within me. Shooting out of my many desires was the one burning desire, one that had been there all along, one I had always brushed over.

"I don't want revenge." I managed, my body trembling. "I want to protect someone, I want to dedicate my life to someone. I want to make up for what I couldn't do. I want to learn to fight! I want to make sure no one I love dies ever again!"

This seemed to shock Orochimaru and for a moment he stared at me, his eyes wide. But, he composed himself as the sound of heavy footsteps sounded by the stairs. He rose and extended a hand.

"Then come with me." He said. "And I'll make sure that no one hurts you ever again."

I swallowed, staring at his extended hand, knowing that we were running out time and knowing that his offer wouldn't stand for very long. I had to make a decision and I had to make it now. I had nothing now and if I was already becoming forgettable, there was no sense in staying. I didn't allow myself another second to think and slid my hand into his, allowing him to pull me out from under my covers and into his arms. The footsteps were just outside my door when we jumped out of the window and I squeezed my eyes shut, wrapping my arms around his neck as we ran off into the night and I told myself that I would never look back.