The following chapter contains instances of non-explicit violence, as well as verbal and emotional abuse. I apologize on all accounts.
- Rii
INTERLUDE
LITTLE BIRD
"Chakra types. List them for me."
"Earth, lightning, fire, water, wind."
"And which is superior over which?"
"Lightning trumps earth; earth trumps water; water trumps fire; fire trumps wind; wind trumps lightning."
"Excellent. And the Uchiha clan possesses which two chakra types?"
"Fire and lightning."
"Meaning our strengths are?"
"Against wind, against earth."
"And our weaknesses?"
"None, if we train hard enough."
And it was there that Sasuke put his hand on his daughter's head. He smiled at her, pulling her closer, his fingers on her ear.
"Very good, my little bird. You never disappoint me."
Nadeshiko smiled.
"Thank you, Father."
They were walking home, together. They had spent the afternoon training. The finals of the chuunin exams were coming up.
Nadeshiko had done very well. Especially considering that she did not have a team. That she had participated alone.
"But you," her father told her, told everyone else who argued against him, "are exceptional. A team would simply bog you down and keep you from reaching your true potential."
She would not have minded a team, truly. She felt she might have been able to work well with one.
But her father knew the Hokage, both the old one and the new.
"Speaking from experience," Kakashi had said, "it would be more socially ostracizing for her if we put her in a team with much-older teammates."
("Though," he added later, "sending her off on high-ranked missions at this age could be extremely problematic.")
"I just don't want her to be lonely," Naruto had said. "I mean, being in a team teaches you lifelong skills, y'know? But it also gives you friends that stay with you forever."
("Right, Sasuke?" he had added, with his sun-blinding smile. Her father had no answer.)
"You are," her father told her, "a prodigy. You are strong enough to stand on your own."
And her father always spoke the truth.
(And while Nadeshiko felt she might have been able to work well with others, others had a tendency of not wanting to work well with her.)
(She tried, at least. But she couldn't complain.)
Her father was her teacher. Somehow, people got the idea that he'd do a good job.
(That, and his insistence had been so strong and so vocal that there was very little out there that could dissuade him.)
(That, and the fact that nobody else wanted to be her teacher, finding her incredible skill to be a terrifying thing.)
(Natural skill like that hadn't been seen in decades.)
(Out of any clan but the Uchiha, even longer.)
(Of course, she would not realize this until she was much older.)
And he did do a good job, as clearly evidenced by Nadeshiko's performance in the chuunin exams thus far.
The written exam felt too easy. Maybe they were trying to give a false sense of security, she thought. It made her nervous.
And then the Forest of Death. It had been easy enough to navigate.
And there was something about the fact that Nadeshiko was so small and had such a delicate face that threw people off guard when she threw them against trees, after paralyzing them with genjutsu.
She figured it was an advantage.
Participation that year was slim. There were no preliminaries. This displeased her father.
What displeased him more, however, was her hair.
"I have told you before, Nadeshiko," he kept repeating, on the way home, "to never wear your hair like that."
She had tied her hair back with a string, while in the Forest. It had made things easier for when she was fighting.
Her father didn't like when she did that. She tried to avoid it at every instance.
"But it's necessary."
She loosened her hair for him. It fell to her elbows, dark and a little ragged from lack of washing.
"Otherwise it gets in my eyes."
"Then have your mother cut it off."
Here her hands protectively wrapped themselves around a strand.
"Of course, I…"
Her father's hand was on her shoulder.
"Never mind. Keep it long. But don't tie it back."
He wasn't looking at her.
And she just nodded and told him.
"Yes, Father."
She learned to fight with it long. It made her father smile when she said that she would view it as a challenge.
"If someone tries to grab it," she said, "I'll just use it as leverage for a swift kick, no matter how much it hurts."
"That's my girl," he replied, patting her on the head.
That's what he always called her, when she wasn't his little bird.
She was his girl.
"He doesn't call me things like that," Takeru complained, at times, to his older brother, to their mother. "Little bird, like she's so special. He didn't even care about her until she started school."
"Takeru, you're very special to your father, too," their mother said, calmly. "You're his bright one. You've heard him call you that before, haven't you?"
(Sasuke had been calling Takeru that since he could walk, practically.)
"I guess."
Takeru, ten years old and angry.
(And envious.)
Hajime never said anything. He was just the first son. Nothing special.
Inou was just "little one," sometimes. And he was little, and shy, always clinging to their mother's legs.
And the baby was just the baby. She was too little for a nickname, born only barely the year before, when Nadeshiko was still at the academy. Her father wasn't terribly fond of infants, anyways.
Training with father always took up so much time. But Nadeshiko couldn't complain.
The chuunin exams were coming up. She had to learn. Polish her skills.
Every morning, after breakfast, they would leave.
Every afternoon, before dinner, they would return.
Takeru was not pleased by this length of time.
"Father, can you train with me today?"
"Not today, son. Maybe after the exams are over."
He put his hand on Takeru's head.
"Your sister needs to be at her top form."
Nadeshiko could see how much resentment he felt. She apologized to him, later. After the first instance.
"Why are you apologizing, you're the one getting all this special attention."
He shoved her away. Disappeared somewhere.
She did feel bad that she was taking away his time with their father. Before the exams, when they were all at school together, their father had spent equal time with them.
At first.
Until Nadeshiko began surpassing them even in those casual instances.
Making her father's eyes widen.
She saw how happy it made him.
She saw how displeased it made Takeru.
She did not apologize again.
She could not complain.
She focused on the task at hand.
Her father taught her many things.
He taught her how to breathe fire. How to handle a blade. How to hold lightning in the palm of her hand.
"Your stamina," he had told her, "is incredible. I would have killed for power like yours when I was your age."
"Thank you, Father."
She took pride in her skills. In the things she learned.
Everything he told her to do, she did.
Her father was, after all, her father. Head of their clan.
His word was absolute. It was the truth.
So she listened. And she continued to learn.
And her father grew closer.
And closer.
He had never been terribly affectionate with her. He did not show his love with hugs or kisses, like her mother did. Truly, he avoided touching anyone, and would tense up when embraced, or jostled. She knew this.
She knew her father showed his love through attention paid, through time spent.
She knew she was his most beloved.
She did not mind this.
(Others might have.)
Because she loved her father right back, and the things he taught her.
She did not show her love with held hands or smiles. But with improvement, and effort. This was acceptable.
He knew how much his word weighed upon her.
How much respect she gave him.
She was the only one who made him smile so much, laugh so much.
She was his little bird, and he was her father.
And she never disappointed.
And then, the day of the tournament finals arrived.
There were eight finalists. A fine, even number. The brackets had long ago been decided.
Nadeshiko's opponent was a boy named Kugi Shusuke. He was Hajime's age. He had graduated from the academy just the year previous.
She knew him. Vaguely.
He was what they called a "leftover." Some dunce of a student that showed little promise. One that didn't fit in.
He had been paired with two others in similar situations.
A tea shop owner's daughter that had a habit of falling asleep in class.
A hyper-tense first-generation ninja that snapped at other students for disobeying rules.
Shusuke's problem was that he was one of those students, disregarding rules at every turn.
He called himself "unorthodox" with a grin that suggested he'd learned the word only minutes before.
They did not fit with any other team.
So the Hokage took them in as his own. The new one.
"If I don't," he had said, "then who will?"
It was a decision that perplexed many, except for the ones that knew him. That camp was not surprised at all.
(Nadeshiko knew Naruto well. He came over for dinner at least once a month. He gave everyone hugs, especially the baby. He told stories.)
(Somehow, her father tolerated him.)
And it was in standing across from him in the arena that Nadeshiko found herself reminded of him very much.
She told him so.
(They were the fourth match of the day.)
"Yeah, yeah, y'think so? I'm glad ya do!"
He had black eyes with sharp corners, a white smile with sharp corners.
"I'll tell my sensei that when I'm done with you. Don't worry, I won't hurt you too bad."
Nadeshiko blinked.
"Hurt me?"
"Well, yeah. We gotta fight 'n all that. I'm kinda bummed I have to fight you, but I guess it won't be so bad."
"Why?"
"'cos you're so tiny. And I don't like fighting girls. But that's okay, I guess."
"If you're finished talking, young man?" The proctor pushed his hair behind his ears and rested his hand on his chin, impatiently.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good, I'm good."
Shusuke reached out his hand.
"Let's have a good fight, though, 'kay? I won't hold back if you won't."
If Naruto's smile was like the sun, his was like a star.
Before the match, Nadeshiko's father had told her one thing.
"Don't hold back. No matter what you do."
Her father's words were the truth and they could not be disobeyed.
Nadeshiko reached out her hand, and she shook Shusuke's with it.
"Yes," she said, "let's have a good fight. I won't hold back."
And she didn't.
And yet.
She did not understand why it was that Shusuke was suddenly no longer moving.
She had only held him.
With her eyes. With her arms.
Tripped him. Kicked him. Kneed him.
Felt things cracking.
Lightning surging through her limbs.
She didn't understand why blood was oozing out of his mouth, why it stained his red shirt an even darker red.
All the others had gotten back up. Eventually.
In the Forest.
She had made sure. She had been practical. She had conserved her strength there.
She did not hold back here.
She did not understand why his eyes were rolling into the back of his head.
She had fought with her father, with her brothers before.
They had always gotten back up.
They had bled, yes.
(That one day, she had broken Hajime's nose. Hajime did not say anything about it.)
But they had always gotten back up.
She did not understand how Shusuke could have possibly been so.
Breakable.
When they were not.
There was a growing pool of redness beneath Shusuke's head.
The proctor was yelling. The match was over.
She stood still.
She had not meant to do.
This.
Her hands had blood on them and it was not her own.
Medics were rushing onto the arena.
The watching crowd was very quiet.
The blood on her hands belonged to Shusuke.
They began carrying him away on a stretcher.
Much of him was still left on the ground.
On her hands.
He was not moving.
She did not understand.
Why?
Had she really hurt him that badly?
He was not moving.
But she could.
And she did. Even though there were many bodies and many hands in between them, she ran and she followed the medics, and Shusuke.
"Please," she said, with a little voice, "is he okay?"
"I'm sorry," she said, when they told her to leave, "I didn't mean to hurt him so badly."
They would not let her in when they took him into surgery. So she waited outside.
Eventually, her father caught up with her. He asked her what she was doing.
She told him.
"I need to see if he'll be all right."
She had not yet truly washed her hands. The blood had dried and turned brown, like rust.
"I didn't mean to hurt him so badly."
"But, you didn't hold back," her father said. "Your skill, Nadeshiko, they'll see that. Well done, little bird. I'm very proud of you."
He asked her to come back to the arena. There was another fight waiting for her, soon.
She refused. He asked why.
Again, she told him.
"I need to see if he'll be all right."
"I'm sure he'll be fine," her father said, "now let's go."
She did not move.
Her hands were covered in Shusuke.
She could still feel the crack of things within him in her thighs, in her wrists.
The next fight, if she were to participate, would be against another little boy. A foreign boy. One she didn't know.
"…will I do the same thing to that one?"
Her father tilted her head curiously, at that.
"Excuse me?"
"If I fight the next one, will he end up here too? And the next?"
"Nadeshiko," her father said, "what are you talking about?"
When she had tried her best, before, they had always gotten up afterward. She had never hurt them.
So badly.
When had she become so strong?
"Father, I didn't mean to hurt him so badly," she said. "I shouldn't have fought like that."
"Don't say things like that," her father said.
He grabbed her arm.
"You have another fight waiting for you. Your next opponent won't be as weak. It'll be a better fight."
Her father always spoke the truth. And she loved him too much.
But.
She pulled her hand away. She wrapped her fingers around her palm.
"Let me stay here until I have to fight," she said. "Have someone get me when I have to go. I want to stay here for now."
It was with a great reluctance that her father finally left.
And all she had were her thoughts, and Shusuke.
She had only done her best.
But her best had never hurt her father so badly.
And she started remembering.
At the academy. When she had to be taught with older students because she kept surpassing her peers, moved up into higher and higher classes.
They were always less-skilled than she was. If she had kept with them.
Would they have ended up like Shusuke too?
For a year, for a year and a half, all she had was her father, her brothers.
Her father was legendary. She knew this. Anyone would look weak compared to him.
Anyone would feel normal compared to him.
Even her.
But Shusuke.
Was she really that strong?
Even if her next opponent were stronger. If she did not hold back.
Just more blood on her hands.
Just more blood.
Her father had told her not to hold back.
He had praised her.
She was his little bird. She did not disappoint him.
A little red bird.
But birds did not hurt people. Not like this.
When they sent a chuunin to go pick her up, to inform her that her match was due to begin, she said that she would not go.
"Uchiha-san, we're already pushing it as it is... If you aren't in the arena in a half hour then your match is forfeit."
She looked up at him.
Shusuke had come to her without fear.
Look what she had done.
This child, barely older than him, was terrified of her. His eyes were trembling, resting anywhere but her face, her body.
Her hands, especially.
She had only ever been praised for her skills. Her strength.
Her father had said he would kill for such power.
Was such power really worth killing for?
(Shusuke had been in surgery for a very long time.)
In the academy she had been praised, also.
But other children.
Weren't so kind.
They wouldn't let her play with them. She had tried.
They whispered things about her.
"They're just jealous of you," her father had said, "pay them no mind."
Jealous, were they.
Or afraid?
Seeing this boy here, Nadeshiko thought of this.
They were not jealous.
They were afraid.
…her father was wrong.
"If that is the case," she told the boy, "then I forfeit my match. Award the victory to my opponent. I want to stay here."
"…a-are you sure?"
She had never been so sure of anything in her life.
Power like hers was not worth killing for.
Hurting for.
She scared people.
And realizing this scared her.
Her father was not pleased when he found out.
It was fortunate that he had Naruto.
And they both were fortunate that they had Sakura.
"What she has demonstrated," Sakura said, down another hallway, her forehead covered in sweat and worry, "is true concern and compassion for not only her fellow countrymen, but for her fellow ninjas in general. Do you have any idea how rare that is?"
Naruto had his hands shoved under his arms.
"That alone," Sakura continued, "should promote her to chuunin, Sasuke. And this is saying absolutely nothing about her skills… impressive though they were. …right, Naruto?" she added, gently.
She had a hand on his shoulder.
"…yeah, that sounds about right," he said.
The volume, the tone of his voice did not suit him. At all.
Her father seemed calmer, hearing this.
"She still should have gone out to face that second opponent instead of sitting out like she did."
Sakura had to leave, resisting every urge to slap him.
Naruto needed her more.
Nadeshiko was with her mother.
Shusuke never came out of the operating room.
When Sakura came by, later, Nadeshiko asked what had happened.
"…I'm sorry, Nadeshiko-chan, there was very little we could have done."
She pulled on the hem of Sakura's scrubs.
(She didn't feel like touching people.)
"Tell me what I did. Tell me how I hurt him."
Her mother said that she was just upset and that she didn't need to be so dramatic.
Nadeshiko said it, again, looking Sakura right into the eyes.
"Tell me what I did."
She had long since washed her hands. But she still felt Shusuke on them.
"Tell me how I hurt him."
There had been too much bleeding. Bones lacerated organs. Too much irreparable damage.
There was nothing they could have done. Even after hours of effort.
"So I killed him," Nadeshiko said.
"Honey, don't say things like that," her mother said.
"Let's go home," her mother said.
All that Sakura could do was apologize.
But Shusuke was dead.
Power like hers truly wasn't worth killing for.
She had killed him.
She hadn't meant to hurt him so badly.
She had only been told to do her best.
For a week, she thought this over.
For a week, she stayed in her room.
(Her mother defended her. Keeping her father out. She was just upset.)
She didn't want to talk to him.
Him, the great liar. Who had told her that this strength was such a gift. Who had praised her so much.
Even though she loved him.
Her own body scared her.
And it scared her more, how he loved what she so hated.
But he was her father.
But he was not true.
Naruto's eyes were brighter when he came to visit. Much later.
He had a box with him. He asked to speak to Nadeshiko.
The Hokage, like her father, had to be obeyed.
Unlike her father, there was a better reason for this.
He opened the box in full view of her, and her parents. Inside was a green flak jacket. It was her size.
"Congratulations," he said to her, "you've been promoted to chuunin, Nadeshiko-chan. Well done, y'know."
Her father was very proud of her.
Nadeshiko wasn't.
He wanted to celebrate. "Anything you want," he told her, "we'll do. This is a great achievement."
"I want," she said, "to be left alone, please. I'm sorry."
Her father didn't seem to understand.
Why was she not happier?
She no longer asked herself.
Her mother, helpful in her answers, had a suggestion.
"I think she's still a little shocked over what happened..."
"People die," her father said. "It's a lesson she has to learn."
Nadeshiko took the box upstairs.
She let it sit on her desk for three days.
And on the third day, she took it off of her desk, and quietly left the house with it.
She went to Naruto's office.
She introduced herself, politely. She kept her voice soft. He looked tired.
"I am here," she told him, after he asked, "to announce my retirement."
She knew what a chuunin was.
She learned what it was they had to do.
And she knew, in the laws written by the Second Hokage, Senju Tobirama, that if any ninja of Konoha were intent on retiring from the service, they were to relinquish both their forehead protector and any other award or indication of rank to their Hokage, and negotiate further terms of the retirement.
"Please," she asked him, quietly, "if there is ever a war, do not draft me. I don't want to ever hurt anyone again."
"Nadeshiko-chan…"
Naruto's hands were placed uneasily on the surface of the desk.
"Are you sure you know what you're doing? I mean, you're a smart kid, y'know, but… well, you're only eight. You have a whole lot ahead of you, y'know?"
"I know."
"And there's a lot more to being a ninja than just, y'know, fighting people. You could become… an ambassador, or a bodyguard, or a medic, if you wanted."
"I know."
"You've only been a chuunin for three days. Maybe you should think this over a little more."
He paused.
"Have you talked to your family about this?"
"No," she said, "and I don't want to. I have… thought this over for a long time. This is the decision I want to make."
She bowed.
Power like hers was not worth killing for.
"I want to live a life where I will never have to worry about hurting people. Please allow me this, Hokage-sama."
Naruto kept the jacket and the forehead protector with him. Just in case.
That evening, Nadeshiko announced her retirement to her parents.
Her father.
Sat her down at the other end of the kitchen table.
"This isn't funny, Nadeshiko."
"It's not a joke, Father."
He was standing.
"You can't be serious."
"I am serious, Father."
Her mother was standing nearby. Watching.
"I can't believe this. Over this? Over this one little match?"
"Yes. I don't want to hurt anyone else. Not ever."
Her father rolled his eyes.
"I thought I knew you better. You're a genius, Nadeshiko. You're incredibly talented. You should know better than to let something as small as this get in the way of your gifts."
"But I don't want to hurt people."
"People are always going to get hurt, little bird. It's inevitable."
"But they don't have to. I don't have to."
He slammed his palms on the table.
"Stop for a moment and just listen to yourself. Think for a moment."
She had been thinking. For more than a moment.
"What you've just done, what you're saying now, is that you'll just… throw away all of this talent because you don't want to hurt people?"
"Yes."
His voice was very low.
"Nadeshiko," he said, "you are going to get out of that chair, and you are going to walk with me back to the Hokage Manor, and you are going to ask for your flak jacket and your forehead protector back."
"No."
She had never seen such hate in his eyes.
"No? NO?"
Directed at her.
"No."
"Well you don't have a choice!"
He was getting louder.
"Yes I do. I made my choice, and I am not going to let anyone get hurt because of me ever again."
He threw up his hands. He was pacing.
"You're STILL hung up on this! HURTING people! What, can you not HANDLE it?"
"I can't stand it. You just told me to do my best. And I did. And I killed him. I can't do this any more."
She saw her mother reach out with weak hands. "Sasuke-"
"Nadeshiko, the FIRST thing you learn as a ninja is that people. Will. Get. Hurt. It's a fucking JOB REQUIREMENT."
"Sasuke, please-"
"Then I don't want to be a ninja," Nadeshiko said.
There was a very long and a very dangerous silence.
She spoke again.
"I don't want to hurt people. I don't want anyone to get hurt."
She was staring at the table. But thinking of her hands.
Shusuke had long since been cremated and his name carved into a headstone, but she could still feel his blood on her hands.
His bones beneath her fingers.
Her father walked over to her.
Stood over her.
She felt very small, compared to him.
(She had felt normal, compared to him.)
(The great liar-man.)
"Well, guess what, Nadeshiko."
His voice was almost a whisper.
"Not. Everyone. Gets. That. Option."
And suddenly he was yelling again.
"People are ALWAYS going to get hurt, and sometimes? YOU DON'T HAVE A FUCKING CHOICE."
"Sasuke-"
"Did my BROTHER have a choice when he was ordered to MASSACRE HIS ENTIRE FAMILY AND CLAN? NO."
He was standing across from her at the table, now, having paced all the way around.
"NINJAS. HURT. PEOPLE."
Nadeshiko felt her throat tightening.
Her eyes burned.
Everything felt weak.
"…but I have a choice."
Sasuke slammed his fist against the table again. The legs cracked from the weight.
"NOT SO LONG AS YOU LIVE IN MY HOUSE, DAMN IT!"
"Sasuke, please, calm down-"
"SHUT UP, INO, THIS DOES NOT CONCERN YOU."
Nadeshiko's eyes burned.
And she covered them.
"YOU ARE DISHONORING THE ENTIRE UCHIHA CLAN WITH THIS BULLSHIT, NADESHIKO. YOU DISHONOR ME, YOU DISHONOR YOUR BROTHERS, AND YOU DISHONOR EVERY SINGLE UCHIHA WHO CAME BEFORE YOU."
Her eyes felt wet, and hot.
"You," he yelled, almost desperately, "are a NINJA! You have TALENT, Nadeshiko! And SKILL! You could go so far…!"
She breathed in deeply and her breath felt ragged.
"And you're just THROWING IT AWAY! You're THROWING IT AWAY, NADESHIKO!"
"I KNOW!"
Nadeshiko was screaming.
And it occurred to her that she was sobbing.
She couldn't remember ever crying before.
"That's what I want! THAT'S WHAT I WANT!"
She did not see her mother, stitched into the scenery, tears flooding her own eyes, arms clutched over her chest.
She did not see her brothers, listening from the floor above.
Hajime clinging to his knees and a pillow.
Takeru smiling grimly.
Inou, rubbing his eyes from underneath his blanket, having gone to bed early. Awoken by all the screaming.
The baby stayed asleep.
She did not see her father's eyes narrow. His breath slow down.
But she heard him.
"Fine. Fine. If that's what you want? Then that's what you'll get."
She heard him coming closer.
"So long as you live in my house, you are a ninja."
And his voice was right over her head, and it was very low, and very dangerous.
"Get out."
Her mother finally spoke, and her words were not weak.
"Sasuke, you can't do that! She's eight!"
"WELL IF SHE'S MATURE ENOUGH TO ANNOUNCE HER RETIREMENT, LIKE AN ADULT, THEN SHE'S OBVIOUSLY MATURE ENOUGH TO LIVE ON HER OWN!"
"That's not how it works, Sasuke!"
"WELL THEN PLEASE EXPLAIN TO ME, INO. I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS ON THE MATTER."
Nadeshiko took her hands off of her eyes and put them over her ears.
She bent over and closer to her knees.
And she wanted to disappear.
She just.
Didn't want to hurt people.
Any more.
Sasuke and her mother were fighting like she had never heard them fight before.
She tried not to listen.
She tried not to look.
But then she heard her mother's voice in her mind.
Go upstairs. Pack some clothes. Don't ask questions. I'll keep your father away.
She could almost barely hear her, over the sound of Sasuke's own screaming.
Nadeshiko got off the chair.
"And where are you going?"
She went down the hallway.
"Oh, so you're going to finally listen to me? Well, GOOD!"
His voice rose.
"GET OUT OF HERE!"
Louder and louder.
"I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE EVER AGAIN!"
"Sasuke, LISTEN to yourself!"
She went up the stairs.
"SHUT UP, INO."
Her hands were unusually clumsy as she stuffed clothes into a canvas bag. She wiped away hot tears with the back of her hand.
She didn't understand why she was still crying.
Why her eyes hurt so much.
"Naa…?"
She knew that voice.
She didn't want to turn around.
"Inou, go back to bed…"
"Big sis, whassa matter…? Why are you cryin'?"
"I'm fine, Inou."
"Are you cryin' cos Mommy and Daddy are yellin' at each other?"
(Downstairs: "Don't give me that bullshit about her being your daughter too, Ino! That has NOTHING to do with ANYTHING!")
"Inou, I'm okay."
She heard him coming closer. He had a blanket with him and it dragged, softly, on the floor.
"Sis, what's goin' on?"
He pressed himself up against her. He was small, and he was warm.
"I'm scared…"
And he was so much younger, so much more delicate than Shusuke.
She pulled herself away from him.
If she hurt him…!
Her own body terrified her.
"Little brother, please, go… go back to your room," she said.
Inou's face was full of.
Fear.
That was what it was.
Just like everyone else.
"…Naa, what's wrong…?" he said.
(He was the only one that called her Naa. Though the baby was picking it up, too, adding it to her few words.)
Nadeshiko could not ever remember crying.
It felt strange.
She heard the front door open.
She left her room quickly, before Inou could say any more, apologizing over her shoulder.
It was her grandfather.
"Ino, honey, I came here as quickly as I could. What's the matter?"
"Oh, so you're bringing him into this, too? When did you call him?"
Sasuke.
"Daddy, please, take Nadeshiko."
Her mother was coming down the hallway. She had been crying. She still was.
"She needs to stay with you for a while."
Sasuke didn't say anything about this.
"Please, Daddy…!"
Her grandfather had dry, stringy arms, and he reached out to Nadeshiko.
"Come on, dear, let's go."
Nadeshiko, eyes cast downward, followed behind.
But did not touch him.
"Daddy, please, take care of her, I'll explain everything later…!"
Her mother's farewell.
"GOOD FUCKING RIDDANCE!"
Sasuke's.
Her grandfather did not ask any questions as they walked together to his house. Not even with his mind.
When they got there, he turned the lights on and brought her to the second bedroom.
Her mother's old room.
She put her bag of clothes on the bed.
"Is there anything I can do for you, honey?"
She shook her head.
He left her alone.
She knew where everything was in the house.
Her face felt raw, and stiff.
She went into the bathroom to wash it.
And when she looked into the mirror.
Her eyes looked wrong, puffy and red.
Carefully, she put the face towel away, and went back to her room.
And she laid down on the bed. She pulled her knees to her chest and held them with her arms.
And the weight of her freedom fell down upon her with its full and paralyzing strength.
If she had done the right thing, why did it feel like she had done something wrong?
(Because she had done something wrong.)
Everything felt suddenly cold. Even though the day had been hot.
She couldn't breathe.
And yet.
She didn't feel alone.
Like a hand on her back, there was that comfort.
She wasn't alone, at least.
Somehow, her mind calmed.
Somehow, she fell asleep.
She would stay with her grandfather for over a year.
Eventually, she returned home.
Once, after many talks, it became apparent that she would not corrupt Inou, who had begun school in her absence.
Things had changed.
Somehow, Karai seemed to remember her. Or maybe only seemed to.
Inou now avoided her.
Nadeshiko almost felt happy about this.
(Thank goodness, she wouldn't be able to hurt him, then.)
Takeru and Hajime had become chuunin with little upset. Takeru made his father proud.
Nadeshiko was proud of them both, anyways.
Sasuke viewed pacifism as an infection. It made people weak.
It made them waste their talents.
A self-destructive disease.
Inou wouldn't turn out like his sister. This, he made sure of.
Nadeshiko just.
Stayed out of the way.
If she stayed away, she could not corrupt.
She could not hurt.
Everything would be fine.
And this suited Sasuke.
And it suited her.
It was easier that way.
But, sometimes, she could not help herself.
Nadeshiko showed her love in little gifts.
In breakfasts made and left out without a word.
In books gently lent out with a lack of acknowledgment as a library card.
In distractions and misdirection and defense for what she saw as a much worthier love.
In flowers left on graves and grown in windows.
A constant reminder.
For Shusuke's sake.
She would do this.
It was not better that way.
But it was easier.
For everyone.