A Little Black Box

The future seemed very big, but time was limited. Events happened and there was nothing they could do about it.

Because his body was small and weak, he preferred reading indoors rather than playing outside. On those rare days he would deviate from the pattern and venture into the village, the citizens gave him a wide berth. His appearance alone caused the playground to become devoid of other children.

She seemed to have a similar mentality as him.

Sitting in the same spot, doing the same tricks with a stone, only to leave at the first drop of rain or when the sun became too hot.

Day in and day out, without fail. Only rarely deviating from the pattern.

So he thought that it was inevitable that their paths crossed on that cloudy afternoon, half a year ago.

Even in the face of his uncle's disapproval of their deepening bond. Even in the face of his father's suspicion towards foreigners.

Somehow, he didn't feel scared... because of their feelings for each other.

And as he watched her perform her latest trick with the stone, he would think-

In the future, I will become a shinobi, and we will always be together.

He didn't know why, he just felt like that.

But then the season changed, and the kunoichi vanished along with the rain clouds.

After she left, there was no fanfare. No great calamity. The desert was as unchanging as always.

He wasn't sure what exactly he was expecting to happen in the days after her departure, but it was business as usual in the village.

It seemed so... strange. She had become such a huge fixture in his life he was certain it would all come crashing down around him when she was gone.

In truth, it was the opposite.

The kunoichi may have left the desert, but a part of her had remained. It nestled in a section of his heart that was once devoid and empty.

And it permeated almost every part of his new life.

.

.

The return of summer meant the return of long, hot days that seemed to stretch on forever.

On the first day of the new season, he traded his lightweight shawl for a heavier one. It was a necessity for the harsh sunlight.

The shawl hung loosely from his shoulders, and trailed behind him on the floor as he walked. For convenience, shawls were fashioned much bigger on purpose so one could simply grow into them instead of getting another one.

He checked his appearance in the mirror and frowned.

Before, he liked how he could curl up and hide inside the baggy folds.

But now this was just another reminder of how long he had to wait. How much distance he needed to cover just to catch up.

On the second day, his uncle brought him to the markets to purchase more books. The older man remarked that he had more unfinished tomes than usual, so they would only buy three instead of the usual six. With a solemn nod of understanding, he faced the shelves and read the titles carefully.

The first book he chose was one about birds.

During one of many conversations with the kunoichi, she had spoken of a festival in her home village, and folding paper cranes. She said that folding a thousand paper cranes could grant one wish.

He did not know what a crane was.

Oddly, he did not want to ask his uncle for aid, despite his fondness for the man. The reason was simple: he did not want to share her, or their conversations.

His father on the other hand ignored anything that was unrelated to his training.

With nowhere to turn to, he would have to satisfy his curiosity by himself.

The second book he chose was one about pastry goods.

Once, she had brought a white cake box with her to the playground. He was never fond of sweets, but when he tasted the little chocolate cake she shared with him, he had to make an exception. It was not sweet like he expected, but bitter. So bitter, he'd puckered his lips and made her giggle.

He could never guess where the cake had been made, though.

Just another mystery he would have to figure out.

To his disappointment, he could not find a book that could help him discover the secret behind the stone. Thus the third book was a simple adventure novel his uncle chose for him. Maybe next time, he promised himself. Next time, he would try again. There was still a lot of time.

The shopkeeper nervously rang up the purchased books. His uncle carefully counted the money.

Like all children his age, he could be impatient. He wanted to return home as soon as possible so he could start reading about birds of foreign habitats.

His restless gaze suddenly alighted on a pile of paperbacks. They perched atop a shelf behind the shopkeeper's head.

The title jumped out at him like no other book in the store had.

Mysteries of the Universe, vol. 2

Jade eyes widened. His heart beat erratically in recognition of the phrasing. The sand gourd shifted and rattled, agitated.

His uncle had dropped his purse on the counter, coins clattering to the floor. He watched his nephew with grim readiness. Meanwhile the shopkeeper had pressed his back against the wall in panic.

In response to his guardian's inquiry, he pointed his finger at the paperbacks.

The sand lifted one copy from the stack and deposited it on top of the check out counter.

Perhaps it was foolish to purchase a book for a reason like that. Just because its title happened to describe her the way he always had. He knew he was stupid, searching for the barest traces of her in the most mundane things.

But being who he was, he didn't need to explain himself to anyone. So the only person who he would admit the truth to was himself.

He missed her. Deeply, so very deeply. All the way to his bones.

.

.

Longer days meant shorter nights. It also meant that he had even less time to himself to read.

Usually that would be the case, but these days he couldn't find any motivation to make contact with his peers during the day. He devoted his free time instead to his collection of books under a different light. Searching endlessly in between the lines for a flash of pink. Or a hint of emerald.

On especially hot afternoons he followed his uncle to his father's training grounds. Like he was supposed to.

Worked himself raw to master sand techniques and elemental manipulation. Like he was supposed to.

...Like he was "supposed" to?

What a joke.

In the chilly hours before dusk. In the wee hours before dawn.

He was praying for a cloudy day.

Because on sunny days when he wasn't practicing jutsu, he was stuck outside the house. His uncle didn't want him shut up inside his bedroom all the time. Wanted him to keep trying to make friends his age.

So he was there, stuck at the playground.

A playground filled with... children. Children who were satisfied with dreaming imaginary adventures. Satisfied with their little sandbox universes.

And when before, he wanted to join them, be a part of their games, their laughter...

Now he was only filled with impatience, fingering the stone tucked in his pocket.

The kunoichi lived in a world where people struck out and made names for themselves. A place where people of all kinds did what they were meant to do. It was light years away from the village walls. Just thinking about it made him wonder about her even more.

He only knew two things for certain.

One, he needed to become a strong shinobi as soon as possible. And two, he would give anything to reach that world of mystery.

TBC...