Chapter 3: The Guard Dog
It had been weeks since the Sato family disappeared from Kumogakure.
And with that the weather turned for the worse.
Fujiko shuddered, pulling the shawl around her shoulders closer to her body. The temperature had taken a dip for the worse this month. Where there were always sunshine and lovely wisps of clouds in the sky, there was now a blanket of gray clouds enveloping the sky with greed. And with that, came rain. It had been raining for the last three weeks, endlessly.
A forceful breeze rocketed through the house, clattering the wooden windows against the panes and creating a loud ruckus.
The pregnant woman groaned, pushing herself off of the couch and approached the windows. She grabbed the handle and closed the window firmly. Finally, silencing the loud banging, Fujiko looked past the glass and narrowed her eyes at the sight of Rama.
As promised, the Sato's left Rama behind.
Their house was immediately occupied by another group of fishermen after their moving. It left Rama without shelter or a home. Therefore, as promised by Fujiko, he was left outside of her home but upon her property—like a dog. Through the three days of miserable weather, the man had been forced to stay outside, enduring the weather like a common shinobi. But as he was not used to it, Fujiko can see the toll it was taking upon his body.
Women from the market were continuously giving him free food, admiring his fortitude to stay with a wrathful pregnant woman rather than stray from her side for a warm bed and plentitude of food. His iron will was the one that kept Rama from moving, and women adored him for it.
Fujiko turned away from the image of a man crouched at the base of her plum tree, barely seeking shelter from its budding leaves as rain poured upon him as if he was under a waterfall. Erasing the picture of Rama shivering and his blue lips, Fujiko fed wood to the fireplace. She grabbed an iron stick and poked at it, watching the flames flicker and jump at provocation.
Makoto should've been here.
She shouldn't be miserable.
Fujiko was promised a life full of happiness and stability. She should not be here, pregnant and alone with only memories to keep her company. Despite of her daily prayers, Fujiko knew not of why the gods took her husband too early in life. His sacrifice wasn't worth her future years of pain and sorrow. She hadn't loved him, but he was there, he was to exist for her companionship and support.
It was something that Fujiko fumed over constantly.
Murmuring beneath her breath, Fujiko walked to the kitchen. She grabbed a small white porcelain kettle decorated with sakura petals and was about to pour some water inside when a bright light flashed through the sky. Frowning, Fujiko leaned over the sink to peer through the window when suddenly a loud clapping sound of thunder struck through the air.
The porcelain kettle slipped through her fingers.
"Okasan!"
Memories washed through her.
"Okasan!"
There was a child of sixteen bawling like a small lamb.
"Okasan!"
The adolescent child screamed high-pitch, holding onto her filthy kimono. The dead trees over her hovered like death, flashing for a moment before lightning struck once more, sending a dead branch over her. The heaviness of the dead weight slammed into the sixteen year old's head, forcing her down into the muddied grown. Helpless, the teenager was looking up to the sky, watching with wide fearful eyes of the bright light flashing once again before setting a nearby tree on fire.
She screamed for her mother once more, scrabbling at the heavy branch upon her to try and dislodge it, but it was useless. The heavy branch was adding weight upon her, making the softening mud slowly suck the girl into the forest ground.
Where had everything gone wrong?
The young girl was simply out for a stroll around her village when she had gotten lost. Despite her turning around and attempting to return home, she had only delved deeper into the thickets of the wicked trees. And then the thunderstorm came about, along with the pouring rain. It was a nightmare.
"Okasan! Please! Okasan!" she screamed once again, wiggling to try and escape but it was useless. Her leg was bleeding tremendously from her previous reckless running and now the ground was trying to swallow her whole. Already her lower half was consumed by the mud and moss, slowly reaching over her breasts and now the water from the pouring rain was flowing around her shoulders.
"Oka—" She gurgled and choked on the dark waters. Like a cow trying to swim, she threw her head back, chin pointed to the sky as she tried to breath.
When the mud and water reached just the brim of her eyelids, the blurry vision of her eyes cleared for a moment to see blue eyes—astonishing blue eyes.
Fujiko released a banshee-like screech, holding the shoulders of the person before her. Her half-crazed eyes wildly looked at Rama to see him crouched before her. As drenched as he was, Rama looked fierce and protective.
Her brown eyes stared at his face, not realizing that his lips were moving.
"Are you okay?" he asked lowly, his voice husky and rough.
Pink lips trembled, attempting to speak but could say nothing. Her brown eyes darted from side to side, body harshly flinching when the sound of thunder clapped. Fujiko whined lowly, her fingers slowly digging into the hard flesh of his biceps. And just like a lost animal or confused fearful child, she was gradually inching her way towards Rama.
It was as if the last past three weeks had ceased to exist.
Placing his hands gingerly upon her body, Rama was able to heave the heavy woman in his arms before leisurely maneuvering the two of them towards the couch. Once placed there, he tried to release her, but Fujiko wouldn't allow it.
"Makoto," she whispered, her eyes wide and gone.
Rama gently grasped her fist and tried to remove her hands, but in an instant she was tearing the flesh of his arm with her nails to prevent it.
"Makoto," she said again.
"Fujiko," Rama said firmly. "Look at me."
Her eyes were anything but still.
Rama grabbed her chin to still her from her movements. "You are safe. You are okay. There is nothing wrong." But those words meant little to her. The pregnant female continued to make the low strung wail in the base of her throat. "Fujiko!" he said loudly. "Stop it!"
"No!" she said.
"Hashirama, enough of this foolishness! Stop crying!" Pain stabbed his brain. Rama snarled, holding a hand to his temple and tried to see more into the fleeting memory.
Suddenly, a rapid knocking interrupted him.
Peeling her away from him, he replaced himself with a decorative couch pillow before making way. He opened the door and blocked the person who tried to come in. A man looked up and noticed it wasn't Fujiko who opened the door. "W-who are you?" the man asked.
Rama narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Her house guest. And you are?"
"Oh! Yes, I've heard of you from Hana-san!" the old man crowed. He smiled appraisingly at Rama. "Thank you for taking care of Fujiko-san! She is a stubborn girl, but she needs all the help she can receive." The old man fished out a small black wrapping and held it out to Rama with two hands. "Fujiko-san asked me to deliver her a package of black tea earlier this week. I didn't have it ready until now. Everyone in the village knows of her night terrors with the thunderstorm." The old man chuckled. "You best give it to her quickly! It helps calm her nerves. Tell her I said hello!"
Rama took the wrappings cautiously. "Thank you."
And with that, the door closed. Rama turned to gaze into the kitchen only to see the porcelain china shattered all over the floor. Stepping inside, he brushed aside the broken china with his foot and approached the sink. The sound of flowing water calmed his senses.
As if all the piling stress from the past three weeks dispersed, Rama took his time prepping the tea. As much as he wanted to curse the woman who had abandoned him outside like a common animal from heaven to hell, Rama took his duty responsibly; it was all he could do to in return for the family who revived him back from the near dead.
"Okasan," Fujiko called for weakly.
Pouring the heated water into the black tea leaves, Rama swirled the cup until he was satisfied with the result. He returned to the woman and grabbed the tense hand digging into the pillow. "Here," he said. "Drink it."
Instead of taking the drink, Fujiko grabbed his arm and pulled him to the couch. Immediately, she hesitantly crawled to his side, eyes deep into the dark as she clutched at his arm as if it was an anchor to her bad dreams. "Okasan?" she asked, nearly weeping.
"No," Rama said. "It's Rama."
"Makoto?"
"Drink."
Like a child, Fujiko craned her head to the cup, sipping at it gingerly as her terrified brown eyes swung from side to side. She still hand a good hold on Rama's arm. "I'm scared," she admitted, panting hysterically.
"Then sleep."
"But the floor will eat me." Her breathing picked up. "The demons, the darkness will eat me."
Rama placed a hand to her face and slowly turned it to him. "I won't let it. Sleep," he demanded once again.
As if realizing who it was she was holding onto, Fujiko narrowed her eyes slightly; but she said nothing. Fujiko unhurriedly settled into her couch, sipping at her cup while he held onto it like a child and looking around from time to time. Her grip on him never eased as she started sliding into his body. Her eyes grew heavy as she tried to stay awake. "The ground will eat me," she protested again.
"You have your guard dog," he said monotonously. "You are safe."
And then she was gone.
It's been quite a while! But I've been heinously busy nowadays with school, work, and whatnot. But I've managed a small update! (:
Thank you for the reviews! Let's see this story go somewhere!
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