Days since invasion: 0
Sakasu Hikari didn't know how she'd gotten back to her house, but there was a familiar doorknob under her hand. She pushed the door open and closed it behind her. Her gaze paused on the vase of flowers by the entryway. She'd need to change them soon. Her mom wouldn't be here to pick up new ones on her way home.
She took a step back, bumped into the door, and slid down to the floor. How? How had everything gone so wrong, so quick? She didn't understand. From the top. The Land of Wind had attacked them along with Orochimaru's Sound shinobi. Sasuke had chased Gaara. They'd chased Sasuke. Shikamaru and she had… she glanced down and didn't see blood. Why? She'd killed them, those tokubetsu jonin from Sound… Oh, she'd been wearing her jacket. Had she binned it? Her eyes closed, and she let the thought drift away. It wasn't important.
A noise inside the house made her jump to her feet, kunai in hand. Images of Gaara's skin peeling and breaking and cracking, allowing a monster trapped inside his skin to emerge made her hand shake. The Ichibi. Someone had called it that. Her heart pounded against her ribs. Was it inside her house?
No. Some sense came back to her. No, Gaara was in Konoha's prison along with Kankuro.
She pocketed the kunai and listened. It couldn't be her parents. They were - They weren't here.
She glided on slient feet to her living room and found Arata waiting for her.
Her breath hitched at the sight of lilac hair. Ami. Ami. Ami was dead. She threw herself forward into Arata's arms.
Her neck snapped forwards and then back painfully. Strong hands clamped down on her shoulders, holding her at arms-length.
"I'm here to give you a summary."
She pushed away the pain of having her hug refused. Fine. It was fine. It wasn't, but everything would be fine. "Yes, thank you. We need a plan for the tower before that." Arata had focused on the inside while Masaru and she were at the Tower. She wouldn't waste time discussing it, but she didn't want a repeat. They had trained to work together, and it'd go much smoother with him rather than her mom's student.
"I'm here to give you a summary."
"You said so." His bloodshot eyes narrowed into a glare, and she paused. "What aren't you saying?"
"I'm just here to give you a summary. We said together or not at all. I said no. You ignored me, oath-breaker." He spat out. The anger was so strong she could almost reach out and touch it.
Her eyes narrowed, and she took a step forward. She had upheld her end of the bargain. "We said that! And then you weren't there. The kyokuba-dan has obligations. And now we must follow through because, even though you seem to have forgotten, we have honor!"
"And did that honor save Ami?"
She recoiled back. Oh. It was always going to come to this, wasn't it? This was… if not the end, then an end. They were never going to be the same, this would always stand between them.
"The contracts aren't valid, so we hold no obligations."
She shook her head. Arata hadn't been outside of the kyouba-dan, but... they were almost untouched. The gate hadn't been breached. Their homes hadn't been burned. Entire families hadn't been cut down by the wind that Suna so ruthlessly wielded. Ami... Ami had died from a collapse.
"Konoha's shinobi failed to keep our children safe."
Swallowing hurt, her throat burned because that was true. She had failed. They had failed. She swallowed again, trying to quench the flames. She had to find the words, try to bridge the new distance between them. "We did our best." Shinobi had died, cut down, protecting their home. She looked him in the eyes, imploring. She had killed. She had faced a monster. She had almost died. "Arata... I am doing my best."
"I'm not asking for your best, Hikari! I'm telling you to be better."
She looked down. Was it always going to come to this? From the moment she'd entered the Academy, had she doomed them to this? Hurting and trying to hurt to avoid feeling the pain? She took a step back. She had killed today already. She didn't wish to continue looking for weak spots, tearing skin and bones, demanding someone's pound of flesh because they'd dared step into her home.
"Am I interrupting?" Masaru's voice cut in. It was cold. Almost as cold as she felt.
Arata ignored him. "Where were you, Hikari? Where were you while she died? Where were you when we got her - " He choked up. "Her body back?"
She opened her mouth... to do what? Defend herself? She hadn't been here. She'd been chasing down the Sand Siblings. Fighting - killing - the sound team. But she should have been here. This was her family.
"I thought you were just here to give us a summary, Arata." It was Masaru again. How long had he been here? She wanted to tell him that she could take Arata's truth and hate. She didn't, too afraid it'd be a lie.
Arata's mouth pinched, but he told them what was done and what the next steps were. Hikari half-listened. Her mind was stuck on her partner's words, his disgust, his hostility. They were proof that Ami's death had destroyed a piece of them.
Her partner, her friend, her family. Arata had known all her choices and supported them. Until it hadn't worked out. Until he needed to blame someone.
Something had broken between them, and she couldn't - wouldn't - allow it to break on a larger scale.
Days since invasion: 1
Everyone held humanity within themselves. The more she learned, the more she realized that truth would always stand true.
The kyokuba-dan recognized seven archetypes: the Innocent, the Warrior, the Mystic, the Caretaker, the Ruler, the Sage, and the Lover. Shinobi divided them into seven types of chakra, but the concept was the same. Everyone held energy, and everyone shaped and expressed it differently.
Humanity was made up of myriads of colors and shapes, with infinite shades within one single color and endless depths within shapes. If you could stand to look at boundlessness, if an spectator was smart enough to watch vastness without losing themselves, they'd find patterns. If they were dwindled down to the original ones, there were seven archetypes.
Each archetype was limitless in their expression, but the manifestations could be categorized into understandable and more specific characters.
Innocents mastered the art of being in the flow of life, unburdened by regrets and expectations. They connected intuitively, trustingly, and with purity to the present. The child, maiden, saint, and jester sought joy and harmony.
Caretakers nurtured and sustained life, raising and shaping it until its independence. The parent, healer, and altruist thrived when they were responsible for providing spiritual sustenance to Innocents.
Hunters were independent entities who sought to reach a goal. The warrior, archer, explorer, and rebel didn't let anything or anyone get in their way. They'd operate within the community if it served them, and change it or leave it if it didn't.
Mystics lived in the inner world, contemplating and surrendering to spiritual truths. Dream-spinners, oracles, artists, and enigmas. They could offer sanctuary, insight, and communion to the earth-bound beings they chose to let close.
Lovers attracted, radiated, and augmented. If innocents 'were', lovers 'were in love'. With life, with beauty, with connection. Sirens, friends, enthusiasts, and team-builders sought to build relationships, both romantic or platonic.
Sages were connected to power and held power of their own. Magicians, scholars, advisers, and strategists left their mark on the world through mastering secret knowledge, positioning others, pushing boundaries, and envisioning solutions.
Rulers were the power. With a Sage's help and by inspiring the Lovers' loyalty, they created communities where Innocents grew up with Caretakers, Hunters pushed for advancements, and Mystics unified the collectives' beliefs and values. Kings, queens, role-models, leaders, and politicians were responsible for the atmosphere of the community that they created.
Seven artists shared a play, each of them vital. But one character was the most developed, the one who got to take center stage, to live and grow and interact with the world. All could, however, be harnessed if you knew how and were willing to pay the price.
Sakasu Hikari wiped her sweaty hands on her legs. She was kyokuba-dan. She was whoever and whatever she chose to be. And who she was, right now, wasn't enough. Masaru and she would walk into the Tower with no authority. But if they played their cards well, they'd wield power. She had to change, to choose.
She kicked off into a handstand and held it straight. The queen within the rulers. She needed to inspire loyalty, command respect, and uphold alliances. She shifted, transforming and creating complicated patterns. The strategist amidst the sages. To control the playing field, she'd need to be creative and objective. She went back into a straight line, realigning herself with the queen, and then arched into a bow. The shield-maiden, a fierce fighter among the warriors. She'd protect her people; she'd win this battle.
She repeated them over and over again. Queen, strategist, shield-maiden - the manifestations. The Ruler, the Sage, the Hunter- their archetypes. They'd be the ones walking into the Tower today.
Her feet touched the ground, and she put on the clothes that Visual Arts had chosen to complement her character. White structured pants blended into sturdy boots. The blouse's sleeved flared out and down, creating a cape the color of iridescent pearls. Her makeup was already done, a plain canvas beneath gold tears. Stark, firm, and beautiful.
She opened the door and stopped. Beside Masaru, a figure made short by age assessed her. Ume, a mistress of Narratives. A magnificent performer and masterful politician in her youth, Ume had shone bright. And then dimmed, losing all interest in the comings and goings of the world. For decades, no one saw her for months at a time. And then her mom had dragged her out to the real world, blackmailing her into becoming her sensei. Under Ume, she'd learnt to read people and weave stories together. And once she could craft the narratives by herself, the old woman had returned to her solitude with only one last bit of blackmail hanging over her. It was small enough that Ume had allowed it, too small to drag her out to live again, but still there. Her mom's advantage, untouched for decades. Until now.
Hikari grabbed a bright orange jacket and turned towards the gates. "What can you do for us before we head out?"
"Mmm, not much for now. You're not going to break, not today at least. Let's make sure both of you know the characters, Hikari-chan."
She'd already gone over this yesterday with Masaru and the clan heads, but she did a quick summary. Although she didn't know enough to peg all the manifestations, she could break down their archetypes: Innocent, Hunter, Mystic, Caretaker, Ruler, Sage, Lover.
"Aburame Shibi, Caretaker. He focuses on his clan, and he will put his son and heir before anything and everything. Akimichi Chouza, Lover. He will follow what Shikaku-dono and the Hokage tell him. Hyuga Hiashi, a warped shade of the Ruler who scares his daughter and, according to his nephew, lets his clan suffer. For now, the three make up the clan heads of the noble clans."
"For now, huh? Yes, explain more about your teammate."
"Uchiha Sasuke." She was sure he was a Hunter, but he'd changed since they'd met. Before, he could have become an explorer or a rebel. Now he was looking where to aim his bow. "He's an archer. Either I am completely blind, or he's about to start his Journey."
Masaru inhaled sharply.
"And his role in this stage?" Ume asked
"He'll help me as long as I don't ask him to step too far out from what he knows."
"Go on."
"Inuzuka Tsume, Caretaker and Warrior. From her son's stories, she's both mother and huntress. Her clan is small but united and satisfied. Yamanaka Inoichi, a Father who thinks he is still a politician. He let go of the pulse of Konoha's shinobi network after the war, and now he's eager to teach Ino everything he knows. And, as you know, Shikaku-dono is a strategist."
"That makes up all the clan heads. What about the rest of your friends?"
"Ino is a Huntress. She'll help me if she can, but her movements and power are still very limited. My sensei is a warrior. He... I think he'll be there for me."
"And Nara Shikamaru?"
Hikari slowly rolled her wrists. Whatever she answered, she'd give too much away. Anyone could guess that Shika was most comfortable acting as a Sage. But that archetype was broad: strategist, teacher, healer, and adviser were only some of the possibilities. Shikamaru was a magician; he wouldn't stop and counseling or envisioning - he'd make things happen. Better reveal herself than her friend to Ume. Better make sure they knew that Shikamaru was hers. When the Tower was in sight, she finally answered. "He could be whoever and whatever he chooses to be."
Ume did a double take. "Things change, Hikari-chan."
She shrugged. She didn't think this would. "We'll see you later, Ume-san."
She nudged Masaru towards where Kakashi-sensei was waiting.
It was show-time.