Akira
SASUKE!
A familiar voice was screaming. He could hear, but he couldn't see.
Where are you? he thought, blindly searching.
Sasuke! the voice screamed that name again in anguish.
He groped in the darkness, trying desperately to find the source of the voice. He needed to find the source of that voice. He needed to let the voice know…
He needed to let him know! He needed to let the voice know-
His eyes snapped open.
Burned, bleeding, and broken, the young man awoke to a world filled with agony. He sucked in a painful breath through his teeth in a hiss, and attempted to open his eyes wider. He closed them again almost instantly. The light made the pain in his head throb more horrendously. Trying to get a grip on the pain that radiated everywhere, he tried to move his fingers. He touched soft cloth. Slowly, he let hand roam. He was lying in a bed, and from the feel of it, he had been seriously injured then treated, given the bandages he could feel.
What happened?
Where was he?
Who was he?
The last question frightened him so much his whole body stiffened and tensed. Panic, black and raw, was sitting in his chest like a heavy boulder, making it hard to breathe. He tried to relax.
Breathe, he told himself. In. Out. In. Out. But his rapidly beating heart made it hard to breathe.
Voices, distant and muffled, could suddenly be heard, and he regained his breath then. He stilled, craning his neck toward the sound, wincing and biting back a groan as he did so. What the hell had hit him in the head?
He could hear a man's voice. Gruff around the edges, low and angry. It was far-off, distant.
"…Can't be bringing in every damn stray that happens to show up on our doorstep, Kanako! What the hell were you thinking? He could be dangerous. He could be Akatsuki! He could have hurt you!"
Another voice began to speak. A woman's. She scoffed. "That's enough, Eiji! I wasn't going to let the poor boy die on our doorstep!" the woman countered irritably.
"Do you even remember what happened to the farmer's daughter because she took pity on an injured nin? She took him in, and the next day they found her in her bed dead and raped!" the man's voice dropped to a low growl, and the woman was silent. Then she snorted in derision.
In his bed, the young man frowned deeply. He kept listening.
"Heh! Yeah, a young, good looking boy is going to make a pass at a middle aged woman like myself." she said with a laugh. "Besides, I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself. You worry too much. I took his weapons off him anyway-"
"WEAPONS!" the man called Eiji roared, so loudly the young man flinched beneath his sheets. "Did you even think about the children?!"
"WHAT SANE PERSON WOULDN'T CARRY A WEAPON WITH THEM THESE DAYS?!" The woman called Kanako hollered back shrilly. The couple argued, and the young man listened idly, keeping his eyes closed and his senses keen. The faintest click from the door silently being opened caused him, despite his pain, to leap from the bed immediately on the defensive.
A young girl who couldn't be older than thirteen stood in the doorway, her long brown hair in a braid complete with ribbons, her cheeks dusted with a rosy blush. She cowered behind the door with an odd little squeak at the sight of him and darted away, slamming the door closed.
He blinked, then realized, in embarrassment and slight horror, that he was naked.
Utterly. Naked.
The door was suddenly thrown open once more with brute force, revealing a hardened man in his forties with peppered dark hair, brandishing a dagger. His eyes widened comically at the sight of the young man and he quickly closed the door with a harsh snap.
"My gods, woman, did you have to do that?"
"Do what?" The woman yelled in indignation. The man grunted irritably from the other side of the door.
At this point, the young man was searching frantically for any sort of clothing. Apparently, he was looking in all the wrong places, because the room was pretty bare. And gods his whole body hurt. It made looking for clothes agonizing.
"I think I should worry more about the ninja than you!"
"Oh put a cork in it, Eiji!"
The young man winced, pain shooting through his body as he eyed the drawers on the other side of the room. He contemplated crossing the room for them.
"Well, have you put some clothes on, boy?" the man roared from behind the door. The young man put his face in his hands. God these people were yelling loud enough to burst his freakin' brain! Grimacing, he suddenly realized there was a robe folded on the foot of the bed, partially covered by the blankets he'd thrown back. He covered himself.
"Well?" Eiji called, but he didn't wait for an answer. He peeked in, and upon seeing the young man was robed, opened the door. He walked purposefully into the room, the dagger glinting in his right hand. The young man kept a wary eye on it, body screaming in pain, but he was poised. If there was one thing he could remember, it seemed to be how to fight.
"What side do you fight for?" the man called Eiji pressed. He was met with silence and a steely gaze. The young man looked to the dagger, and watched as it trembled. A tremor of fear was shooting through the large man called Eiji. The young man looked back up at him, nonplussed.
"Speak, boy, or I won't hesitate to cut your throat!" Eiji promised, but his hand shook badly as he brandished the small blade. The young man narrowed his eyes, not flinching once, as the dagger was thrust closer to his face, pointing between his eyes. His mouth twisted into an annoyed grimace. How irritating.
Quicker than Eiji could have anticipated, his wrist was grabbed and painfully twisted. The blade fell from his fingers, useless. He yelled, more so in fright (it was obvious the young man was better trained at fighting. Eiji was just a simple farmer with a background of boxing in his youth) and the woman who had to be Kanako raced into the room with a kitchen knife, her thin face framed by bushy brown hair. The young man almost had to laugh at her antics and the knife, despite the stinging pain covering his skin. He released Eiji's wrist.
"I wouldn't come at a man like that if I'd never seen him before. You might just get yourself killed," he said, intending to come off as cold and intimidating. Eiji paled and backed away. Hearing his own voice felt odd to him, as if it were the first time he were hearing it. It was slightly rusty and hushed, as if he hadn't spoken in days. His gaze slid over to the woman.
"Thank you," he said. The comment threw her off guard, and she lowered the knife, blinking.
"Yeah, well, I couldn't let you die in out there in the rain. You were bleeding on the cabbages." She tried to hide her fear and suspicion. The young man looked at Eiji, who was red in the face from embarrassment, but had placed himself protectively in front of his wife. Little good that would do, the young man thought.
It was obvious to him that he possessed more physical ability than the man and his wife combined. He studied them quietly for a moment. Kanako had a sweet heart shaped face with large doe eyes, so her lower voice and rude tone clashed with her dainty face. Eiji was a large and stocky, broad chested man. He was dark from years of toiling under the unrelenting sun. He was rather plain looking, the young man decided.
"Who are you?" Eiji asked again, in a less demanding tone. The young man turned away to sit on the bed. He was beginning to feel dizzy, and the pain he felt was making his stomach tie itself in a nauseating twist.
"He's in pain," Kanako noticed. "Emiko, go grab that medicine!" Kanako barked at her slight teenage daughter, the one who had peeked in moments before. Emiko, who had been watching from behind the doorway, nodded and darted away. An injection of morphine, and some changed bandages later, the young man felt well enough to speak again.
But it was Kanako and Eiji who spoke first.
"So, who are you? What side are you on?" The question was asked again.
"Side?" The young man asked, a little dumbly. Kanako frowned at her husband. She whispered something in his ear. Eiji nodded wearily.
"What year is it, son?" He asked. The young man's throat felt dry. He honestly didn't know. That black panic was coming back. He shoved it away forcefully.
What year? What year? he thought frantically.
"Do you know your name, where you were born? Who're your parents?"
Silence.
"Amnesia. Figures, he had an awful head injury," Kanako declared. Eiji shot her a look that seemed to say as if it weren't already obvious.
"Do you know what happened to me?" the young man rapsed out. Kanako bit her lip.
"We heard a pop and this strange scream from outside in the middle of the night. When I went out, I saw you in the garden, face first in the dirt. You had some pretty nasty burns, but I was able to heal most of it with healing chakra. You're going to carry around that burn on your shoulder, but the rest will be minimal, thanks to the quick care you had. There was also…" she paused, voice trailing.
"What?" the young man pressed, oddly afraid.
"It's some kind of beast. It's dead, black and burned to a crisp. I think that's what screamed. I don't know what you were doing or who you were fighting, boy, but it must have been one hell of a fight."
The young man looked away. He had no recollection.
"Is it still out there? Can I see it?" He had to. He needed to remember what had happened.
Kanako looked doubtful. "We dragged it into the woods. Probably covered in maggots by now. It's…it's been a couple days."
More fear began to claw at the back of the young man's mind. It had been days? "I see…"
"Look, kid, you can have this guest bed for a few days, alright? We're not going to force you to leave. This part of the country's been pretty quiet, and you need a good rest. The clothes you had originally were hardly there, they were so burned up. There are some extra clothes in the drawer over there." Kanako said, tilting her head towards it.
Eiji threw her a warning look, dark eyes bulging, but she ignored her husband pointedly. They turned to leave, but the young man needed to know more.
"So there's a war going on right now?" he asked. For some reason, this observation bothered him, made his nerves race up his spine in a chilling trail. Eiji and Kanako exchanged a glance, then filled the young man in.
As the days passed in the small village (known as Iwa), the young man grew stronger. In a week, he was well again. Often, he remained in his little room, gazing out the window and trying to remember the voice he had heard in his dreams before he had woken up all those days ago.
He could never remember, and it made him restless. Eventually, he began to creep out into the house. Once, Eiji had found him cooking with Kanako. The young man suspected this had bothered Eiji for some reason. He supposed he could understand why.
Eiji was still suspicious, but Kanako had warmed up exceptionally, even enough to complain about her and her husband's marital issues (disturbingly enough) while washing the young man's wounds or changing his bandages.
He never said a word while she gabbed, just listened.
"You know, we can't keep calling you "boy or "kid". You need a name." She surprised him by saying one morning as she served him his breakfast. He blinked. A name…yes, he did need one, but all of his brooding (which always made him furious in the end because of his inability to remember) never amounted to anything. Maybe a flash of something here or there, but the flashes seemed to have no real significance.
"How about…Jun?" Kanako suggested. She laughed at the young man's grimace.
"You never know, maybe by suggesting a bunch of different names, you'll remember your own name." It was an interesting theory. But over fifty names later, (and a very annoyed Kanako and an equally annoyed patient) they hadn't come to an agreement.
She was fixing a bandage, muttering something about men and their stubbornness, when he surprised her with a question.
"When did you learn about medicine?" he asked, fascinated by her glowing green hand. The energy felt pleasant. Warm, and it almost seemed to hum. He wondered what else he had to rediscover about the world he couldn't remember. The silence had become defeaning. Kanako continued to apply healing energy to the terrible burn on his shoulder, and didn't speak until after she'd redressed it. She smiled sadly.
"I used to live in Konoha. The village hidden in the leaves," she said proudly. "It's a hidden village, a village where ninja are made. I was born and raised there. I was very interested in becoming a medic nin as girl. My father was one. I even went to the Academy, in the hopes I would graduate and have a team and sensei of my own. I never graduated, though. My mother became very ill, and I was needed at home. My father actually taught me how to harness my chakra into a healing energy when my mother needed it and he wasn't there. It was all I ever really learned to do. I never went back to the Academy."
He nodded slowly at her story and looked to the door, feeling as though he were being watched. Sure enough, he noticed Emiko peeking from behind the door, kneading the hem of her dress with her hands. She reddened when she noticed his gaze and fled. Kanako laughed.
"Oh that girl. You know how thirteen year olds are," she said fondly. The young man cocked an eyebrow. He didn't really know. Another child he'd seen often, a boy of only seven years old known as Kaoru, walked past the room and stopped to peer inside. He met the young man's gaze boldly. He was a short kid. Stocky like his father, with spiky brown hair and his mother's doe eyes.
"When are you going to get better so you can teach me how to fight?" Kaoru demanded. The young man's eyes widened in surprise and confusion. Kanako laughed.
"Kaoru, go do something useful!" she teased. The boy stomped his foot, his brow furrowed and his face scrunched in a serious frown.
"I know he's a ninja! I want to be a ninja too, see?" The boy demonstrated by taking a small kunai from his overall pocket. He flung it, and the little weapon lodged itself into the wall, destroying a picture frame in the process, much to his mother's annoyance and distress.
"Ooops." Kaoru took one look at his mother before he bolted. Kanako ran after him, waving bandages.
"AHH! KAORU! WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT KUNAI IN THE HOUSE?!" she bellowed angrily, chasing after the tiny menace.
Kaoru squealed, yelling, "I WOULDN'T BREAK PICTURES OR PUT HOLES IN THE WALLS IF SOMEONE WOULD TEACH ME HOW TO THROW A KUNAI!"
It was then that the young man realized he was laughing. Laughing hard enough that he winced from the sting of his burns and the pain in his head. Laughing felt…warm, if that made any sense. These people…
These people had good hearts.
He'd grown fond of them. Eiji often tried to be the epitome of a manly man, but he had a soft side, it was easy to see. Kanako had a kind soul, but calling her gentle would be an understatement. Kaoru was the troublemaker, (obviously) and Emiko was quiet. Sweet, but very shy.
A week became two. Kanako had officially dubbed the young man "Akira" during dinner one evening the first week (claiming that he took after some handsome childhood crush of hers called Akira, which in turn gave birth to quite a few jokes and an uncomfortable and irritable Eiji), and much to the young man's chagrin, it had stuck, as his memory still hadn't returned.
Two weeks melted into three. Akira (which he had admittedly been identifying himself as throughout town) still hadn't left. Where could he go? He had no memory, no idea of where to go in a world burdened with war. He was treated nicely enough in Iwa.
The villagers were both wary of him and intrigued. Wary, because of the sword he constantly wore strapped to his back, but intrigued. It was safe in Iwa, tranquil, and Akira had a silent, mutual understanding with the family who'd taken him in.
The Yamagatas took care of him, and thought well of him, though he tended to listen to them more than reach out to them with words, and in return he worked alongside the family. He would often rise before dawn to help Eiji with the chores and crops. The first morning he had done this, he had surprised the older man, but Akira said nothing, just began to work. Eiji had smiled.
Kaoru often pestered him with questions about his supposed ninja life. It was a fun thought to entertain. He, a ninja? Akira didn't really think so, but he would indulge Kaoru all the same. Akira could do nothing but smile, (or, when he became annoyed after a few minutes, insist that if Kaoru did not stop with the questions, Akira would use Kaoru as target practice) and insist he knew nothing in front of Kanako.
...
One afternoon, he delighted the boy when Kaoru had accompanied him to the well for water. Kaoru had been playing with the kunai (which he claimed he had stolen off of a ninja, much to Akira's amusement) and tossed it at passing trees without ever embedding it in the bark once.
Akira had taken it from him and tried his hand at it. It sank in the bark up to its handle and Kaoru looked at him like he was a god.
Akira had laughed while Kaoru hopped from foot to foot, excited and shouting "I knew it! I knew it! You're a ninja! Do it again! Do it again!"
He and Kaoru spent much of the afternoon doing target practice (Upon returning back to the house, Akira had said the two had goofed off and spent the time swimming in the lake).
So it became his and Kaoru's ritual, every other day, to have "ninja" practice in the woods. Akira couldn't say where his knowledge came from, but every day, it seemed more believable that he might have ninja roots. He was sure he must have come from a family dedicated to the ninja arts. He began to remember things. Like how chakra worked, how to bring a spark of electricity made purely out of it to his fingertips, or concentrate it on the bottom of his feet to scale up tree trunks or walk on the still-as-glass surface of the pond by the clearing.
Each time he remembered, he felt exhilarated. But something was missing. Every night, Akira would wander back to his little bed, and would pray for his dreams to show him his past.
Every night, he dreamed of blue eyes. He would wake suddenly at night sometimes, breathing quickly and feeling alone, reaching out as if he might find someone lying next to him.
He would think of the blue eyes. It was always harder to go back to sleep after.
It was during a particularly bright morning, though a chill still clung to the air, that Akira began to teach chakra control to Kaoru. The boy was average in his attempts, but his dedication made him exceptional in Akira's eyes, though he never admitted that.
He bit back a smirk as Kaoru yet again attempted to stand upon the surface of the pond Akira had picked. He fell right through, spitting like a cat and cursing, splashing the water angrily.
"I'll never get it right Dammit!" he yelled.
Akira hid his grin. "Again," he instructed. Kaoru glared venomously at Akira, who was now definitely smirking and not trying to hide it.
Kaoru's glare turned into a look of surprise. Akira, on the other hand, wasn't taken off guard. He had known they were being watched.
"EMIKO GET OUT OF HERE!" Kaoru yelled heatedly, splashing at the water. The girl, who was sitting in a tree, stuck out her tongue at her younger brother, dangling her feet and legs cheerfully.
"Don't yell at me or I'll tell Mom what you've been doing!" she warned. Kaoru's face turned a splotchy red.
"Ugh! You're so annoying. Don't you have some food to go learn how to cook?"
Akira winced. It wasn't the smartest thing to say to any woman, sister or not, and Emiko had a bit of her mother in her.
She proved Akira right. "You idiot! See that I don't come down there right now and punch you in the head!" She hollered in a voice that rivaled Kanako's, shaking her fists, and Kaoru paled a shade, sinking up to his nose in the water.
"I can watch if I want, can't I, Akira?" Emiko asked, the adoration on her face enough to make Kaoru stick a finger in his mouth and pretend to gag. She glared at him. Akira turned to give Kaoru a sharp look.
"Sure," Akira said, hoping the scene would smooth itself over. Emiko beamed at him. He never got involved in their pesky, childish arguments. Even though they were amusing at times.
"Hey!" Kaoru cried out, popping back up from the water and feeling betrayed. He jabbed an accusing finger at his sister.
"You only want to be here so you can look at his ass!" Kaoru hollered. Emiko almost fell out of the tree from pure embarrassment.
"I DO NOT!" she screeched, loud enough to make Akira close his eyes and sigh, as if warding off a headache.
"Do too I read it in your diary! Akira is so handsome. Akira talked to me today. Last night I dreamed I went on a date with Akira-" Kaoru began to speak in a high-pitched, sickeningly adoring voice that was supposed to pass for a love-sick girl.
Akira hid a startled snort behind a cough.
Emiko had turned beet red. "SHUT UP, KAORU!" Emiko screamed shrilly, covering her ears, her eyes wide and face crimson. She really did fall from the tree then, but was caught deftly in Akira's arms. She looked up, tomato red, eyes glazed with tears. He placed her down gently, irritated by the childish argument.
"Alright, that's enough-" he began, but Emiko looked past him to her brother.
"You're never going to be like Haru so stop trying!" Emiko yelled, before running off. Akira was quiet, unsure of who Haru was, but he was obviously someone important to Kaoru, because the little boy scrambled out of the pond, throwing a rock in the direction his sister ran.
"STUPID!" Kaoru screamed, eyes filling with tears. He started to cry quietly then, and turned away from Akira.
"I'm not crying!" he insisted in a wobbly voice, though he wiped his face noisily on his arm. Akira said nothing. Kaoru kept crying, and Akira looked away, wondering what he should do.
After a moment, he walked up the boy, placing a hand on his shoulder. For a moment he said nothing, but as he watched the boy swipe angrily at the tears, Akira felt a certain responsibility. The child needed someone, and it wasn't as if Kanako would magically appear. He sighed.
"She didn't mean it, Kaoru," he said quietly.
Kaoru wiped his nose on his arm again. "Yes she did! You shouldn't like someone stupid like her!" he spat. "I will be like Haru. I'll be just as strong, and brave!" he vowed.
"Only if your practice," Akira reminded him gently. "Why don't you give it another go?" Kaoru looked up at him with tear filled eyes.
"What if I can't do it at all?"
"Then I guess you'll never be a ninja. No man becomes a ninja if he doesn't believe he can be one," Akira stated matter-of-factly. To him, it was the softest approach, considering he was speaking to a seven year old. Kaoru nodded, determined.
"Right."
They walked home an hour later, the sun sinking behind them and setting the world ablaze with a golden glow. Akira had lifted Kaoru on his back, carrying him the rest of the way.
"Haru was my big brother," Kaoru explained. "He was a ninja, but…he died in a raid. He enlisted to fight for the war. Mom gets mad at me when I say I want to be one, and she doesn't want me to learn, because she doesn't want to lose us the same way she lost Haru," he said sleepily. Akira nodded in understanding. He almost felt a little uncomfortable, learning of this sad and intimate detail about the Yamagatas.
"He would be proud of you," Akira said finally. He meant it.
"He would, wouldn't he! I can stand on water! Woohoo!" The boy exclaimed, laughing, before quieting and resting his cheek against the back of Akira head.
"Don't ever leave," he whispered. "It's like having a brother again." Akira's heart clenched, but he said nothing.
I can't promise that, he thought, but he gripped Kaoru tighter and put him to bed for Kanako when they reached the farm.
Akira went to sleep that night thinking of the blue eyes.