Nyx. [P][Hotaru]

[Naitome]

' ' S O L I D A R I T Y . . . ' '

Tch.

I walk without truly knowing where I’ll end up. The path before me is uncertain; it is not some trick of topography nor a philosophical misunderstanding that leads me into nowhere, but a naked and vulnerable fact perpetuated by my own lack of experience with the terrain.

I am lost. Again.

My movement across brackish mid-air estuaries congesting the space between unfamiliar plant-life cuts through the Land of Water like an oddly shaped dagger. The last words of the Mizukage disturb me, as I touch nerve-tense palms to my equipment and weapons, checking subconsciously that I still possess them. “You cannot overcome every obstacle alone, Akuharu. You are not a pirate any longer, you are a shinobi, and you must learn to work with others to achieve your goals. You are being paired with the village’s most elite medic. She observed you during the Chuunin Exams, as an instructor. Do not disappoint me.”

I have worked with others before, been a part of a crew, a grouping of men and women working in tandem, each seeking to circumvent or outwit the other. I have witnessed ambition tear the fragile bonds of camaraderie apart; I have torn apart such bonds myself in order to ensure my own survival. But the coming trials, these ‘Jounin Selections’ in which I will soon participate, will require more than a temporary alliance of purpose. It will require me to look past myself, past one finite end. I search through the graveyard-woods, even though I do not know where to look, even though I see it as a waste of time.

I do not need to find her. I am told that she will find me.

☯

[Hotaru]

Swift footfalls carried the kunoichi through the treetops as she quickly closed in on the meeting place assigned by the Mizukage. During their last meeting, it had been decided (mostly by Akira,) that though her solo career had been successful, there were certain thing that Hotaru could not accomplish alone. Since she had headed up the Chuunin Examinations, she had held off on taking on any arbitrary assignments from the village. For one thing, she had made a sizeable sum of cash from proctoring the most successful examinations in recent memory so she didn’t need the income. She also had grown bored with the proverbial mountain of “track this, kill that, capture some guy” missions that seemed to fill the job listings. One can only slaughter so many mutant animals or capture so many petty criminals before the sport is lost.

Still, she could feel her skills getting rusty...and getting out into the field would be a welcome change from drinking nearly from sunup to sundown every day. According to her instructions, a few vague coordinates were here only clue as to where she was to meet her partner, who was the most recent victor of the exams. Glancing down at the scrap of paper one last time, she closed in on her destination in a matter of minutes and took a perch on a low hanging branch on a tree, her legs dangling a few meters off of the ground.

Surely she wouldn’t be hard to find. Her fiery red hair stood out brilliantly against the deep green background of the forest’s canopy, and her black jacket, cyan bikini top, and matching shorts certainly didn’t camouflage her among the other branches. So long as her pending partner hadn’t gotten totally lost, he would eventually come across her resting place which hung directly over the road that cut through the woods. She exhaled loudly out of boredom and began waiting for the other Kirigakure shinobi to appear, having nothing in particular to do until he arrived.

He better not be late. . . maybe I should have stayed in and drank afterall.

[Naitome]

...

Through the damp veldt, along a forest floor of wet vines that wrap around my ankles under their own influence, where clouds of insects hover in the subtle glow of mid-day; I arrive finally at a road that is distinguishable from the few other patches of paved dead grass leading deeper into the Mizu No Kuni outskirts. A loud exhalation of breath breaks away from the high treeline, and I am gracefully alerted to the presence of another. My gaze drifts upwards, right hand throwing a palm-full of hair away from my face to drift lazily upwards with all the curiosity of a stone. I do not feel any malevolent intentions, no bloodlust, no real danger. But I am comforted by little these days, short of solitude, and it is with my own sigh of impatience that I leap upwards from the baser land and dig a hole in the moss-covered branch with the heel of my boot.

I take a pivoting step into the thickest spread of overlapping green, and see a young woman. I do not immediately speak. A few meters from being able to reach out and touch her, I subconsciously take a step back, staring at her hair. I have never seen anything like it. I catch myself by gesturing in her direction with a polite bow, before abruptly drawing closer and sitting down next to her. I do not smile, even though I wonder if I should. It is difficult to think of myself as a Chuunin. It is difficult to think at all.

She dresses in what seems to be a deliberately provocative manner, something that makes looking directly at her more difficult, and pulls my own focus towards her eyes without really trying to. When I speak, I make a mental note not to stare at her for too long and instead stare out across the wide glance of filtered sun broken into shards of dust and hard light around us.

Uchiha, Akuharu. Well met.

It is a simple greeting.

☯

[Hotaru]

The rustle of leaves and snapping of twigs informed her of the approach of somebody through the brush before he came into view. Instead of approaching via the road as she expected (and as any normal traveler would do) he strangely stumbled out of the forest a few meters in front of her. An eyebrow raised as the man she assumed to be her partner came into full view.

Oh ya. This kid.

Hotaru had seen this particular shinobi around Kirigakure, though it seemed that he usually was trying to stay out of the center of attention and quietly observing from the sidelines. From her observations, he had always seemed unremarkable in all areas but one, and now that they were going to be partners, she could finally learn more about his single exceptional quality.

Violet eyes met slates of coal and Hotaru lightly pushed herself from her perch, falling to Akuharu’s level before slowly walking towards him, circling the Uchiha with a skeptical gaze.

“It just doesn’t make any sense. . . “

She mused to herself, though audible to the subject of her private inquiry.

“Well Akuharu. If we are going to be working together. . . you have to answer one very important question first.”

Her tone was somber; her gaze unwavering. She stood directly in front of him now, steadfast and resolute in her decision to pry the secret from his mouth. She stepped forward, their faces just inches from each other. Her resolute glare attempted to pierce his skull and extract the information nonverbally, through the secret remained hidden. Without wavering her gaze or disposition, she would ask just one question.

“How do you keep your hair so long and shiny?”

[Naitome]

Mostly, by introducing myself to others, when they've extended the same courtesy to me.

I answer with a light smile that makes the chastising nature of my remark less severe, but I am wary of my partner already. I have learned to distrust women; it seems unfair to me but prudent, and my grin spreads even wider as conflicting thoughts regarding how giving others the benefit of the doubt might be outweighed by personal experience. I allow her to pace around me without interference. I am used to being appraised as an object and somewhere, in some buried corner of me that retains its pride as an Uchiha, I feel rage, a sudden and surprising anger that does not well up to consume my rationale, but is stifled beneath years of simply allowing life to happen. I second-guess my own conviction, and laugh nervously like a child beneath her scrutiny.

I give her time to tell me her own name if she so chooses, and do not move until a sudden nuance in the forest quiet jolts me from the lull of awkwardness. I realize that the mist is thicker now that we have stopped moving through it, it closes us in. To the ebb and flow of nature, we are only dust, only more insects caught in the sap of trees a mile high and arching overhead to serrate the invading light. We are in a haze. I gesture towards the continuation of the road and remind my new partner of our purpose.

We were asked to complete a mission in a town only a few fields away. It is small, a merchant's city near the harbor, but if we do not arrive before nightfall, our task will become much more difficult.

I could tell you the secrets of proper haircare as we walk, however. I would suggest we move soon.

I do not stand still to hear her reply, but I am listening. Her manner and style of dress make me...uncomfortable. It takes a considerable amount of effort not to stare at the exposed skin she flaunts without a care, and I turn my face to move along the moisture-ridden leaf littering dirt before she follows my gaze. I will not comment on her own hair, on the brilliant shock of red tipped with daylight yellow that resembles a flame, how the end appears to glow in the fog like a firefly. . .

☯

[Hotaru]

The fact that her new partner had refused to give her a straight answer caused the kunoichi’s eyes to narrow and glare at the Uchiha with disdain. As far as she was concerned, the only thing that had stood out about this boy was the fact that his hair was even longer and silkier than hers. Hotaru took great pride in her appearance, and spent precious time and a slightly embarrassing amount of her salary on hair care products, yet split ends and dry hair prevented her from growing her mane out much longer. Yet this boy seemed to pull off his stylish do, and didnt seem to put much effort into it.

Hotaru suddenly stepped around to Akuharu’s back, her hands reaching out and grasping for his sizeable length of hair. Greedy fingers combed through the strands, and she examined his mane from just inches away.

“So what is it? Special combs? Expensive oils? Is this even real?”

Discerning eyes traced the hair up to the scalp, looking for any sign of netting for extensions to be woven through. Truly, this was deception at it’s most sinister.

Unable to come up with a reason to explain how his hair was more elegant than even the finest of brothel mistresses, she gave up her investigation. For now.

“Alright luscious locks, what does Akira have us doing this time?”

[/blockquote]

[Naitome]

What are you....ehh....?!

And she does not give me her name, but touches me, pushes her fingers through my hair and onto my scalp, pulling at the gathering of stands, the actions of a curious absent-minded infant. I do not rush away from her grasp; it is not altogether unpleasant but it unnerves me, and I am unsure of how exactly to respond. So, like always, I wait. I wait until she asks what the Mizukage has assigned for us, and I am overjoyed to respond without the knuckles of a total stranger kneading my skull, even though her nickname for me seems unnecessarily dismissive. I am a hair-style to her. A vanity. I have dealt with such conceit before, and it is never an easy task, but perhaps...perhaps that is the test.

If I can deal with her, surely I can deal with anything.

I know only that we are to face an opposing army, and that the numbers will not be in our favor.

I turn quickly and walk ahead of her into the dizzying grain spiral pulling itself graciously from the fog and becoming farm-country, saturated with water and fields of scorched wheat. Less than a mile from where our shared road leaves the greater mists, a graveyard marks the closest edge of the town we've been contracted to help. We will be there before long. I am impatient to begin.

Since you seem unwilling to tell me your name, what should I call you?

In need of a sweater and pants. I think to myself, a touch of red staining my face briefly as I smile disarmingly again.

☯

[Hotaru]

Though they had only been together for a few moments, Hotaru had noticed something off about Akuharu. Perhaps it was just their vast difference in personality, but she felt like he was...hollow. His eyes darted away constantly from her exposed flesh when other mens’ gazes feasted, unashamed on her figure. Furthermore, her crass remarks that usually solicited some sort of violent reaction from strangers (be it verbal or physical) seemed to bounce off of him with no more than a nervous giggle. All in all, he just seemed a bit too polite for her comfort level.

“Names’ Hotaru. Lighten up a little, would ya? Just because we’re working together doesn't mean you can’t be yourself. Screw the formalities. Have some fun. I’d say ‘let your hair down’, but I think you beat me to it. ”

She doubted that her invitation for Akuharu to come out of his shell would be accepted but she figured it was worth a shot. In her experience, bonding with teammates and partners could only help in the field. The closer the mental link between teammates, the easier it is to anticipate their movements in combat.

”Outnumbered eh? I think i can handle a couple dozen bandits with swords or villagers brandishing their farm tools in revolt.”

She said, cracking her knuckles with confidence.

Did you get any more info or was it another ‘go to such and such village and deal with this vague problem violently?”

It wouldn't surprise her if they had been given only the bare minimum of details before being sent off. Lately she felt more like a mercenary dealing with the petty skirmishes of thieves or fulfilling some sadistic bloodlust of some trophy hunter who couldn’t bring himself to kill himself a wall full of giant animal heads.

The duo from Kirigakure continued down the path, slowly watching the landscape transform from a mist laden forest to fields of wheat and other crops waiting to be harvested. The silhouette of a small hamlet soon crept up on the horizon and as they approached, the village’s graveyard would greet them, inauspiciously foreshadowing the events to come.

[/blockquote]

[Naitome]

Hotaru. A fitting name.

I listen as she says what many others have said; that I am taking myself too seriously, and I handle it just as I have in the past. I ignore her. But I feel some small guilt at not explaining the nature of my hesitation, why I cannot so easily behave the way others do. I am...a stranger still. An oddity. An imperfection marring the surface of a system I struggle constantly to understand, and my head is full of the words of men who died long ago. I learned the language of the Shinobi World from dust-congealed tomes older than the both of us; there is nothing I can say that is not the antiquated drifting prose of dead philosophers.

But perhaps it is not only that. I nod in her direction as she speaks, wondering if I sound 'like an old man', a favorite analogy drawn by the Kage she seems familiar enough with to address by first name. My tone softens even as I do not willfully intend it to. I try to speak...plainly.

It is not my intention to...I am not....*sigh*...It is difficult to make my intentions known with one such as you. You are distracting. I am not as comfortable as you seem to be in the presence of those whose intentions it is impossible to quickly and accurately discern.

I look at her as I speak, though must turn away almost immediately after, careful not to stare. I am not captivated by some romantic notion, only cautious of being being rude, though another mention of my hair carries with it the urge to laugh. She is funny, but I do not know if I like that thought. Her confidence is inspiring and daunting in the same breath.

If what I read is correct, all of the bandits and villagers, are already dead.

She cracks her knuckles, like a man. Already preparing for battle, and without being able to verify my belief, I seem to see some barely restrained violence struggling to assert itself, and be contained.

The details of the mission are to simply destroy the enemy invasion forces by any means necessary. There was also something referencing biological warfare, which I can assume is the reason a medic would come along. I have heard you are considered 'elite' in that field...and if you can forgive my intrusiveness, I would like to know why. Dealing with a vague problem violently is highly preferable to dealing with a violent problem vaguely.

☯

[Hotaru]

“‘With one such as me?’”

Hotaru asked, an eyebrow arched as she questioned the remark that was hard not to be insulted by.

”Look. If you don’t want to work with me, you can just say so. I can handle it on my own. I’m used to being by myself anyway.”

She had heard everything he had said waiting until he finished speaking to respond, but she fixated on his first statement. Her face contorted into a frown and her demeanor deflated. Hotaru flipped her hair over her shoulder and picked up her pace, walking ahead of Akuharu and redirecting her focus to the mission that she had been assigned. He said it himself, the only necessary party on this mission was a medic.

Storming ahead, she kept her eyes peeled for whoever had commissioned their involvement, but from what she could see from this distance, the town seemed relatively quiet. No smoke rose from the chimneys, no farmers roamed the pastures with their cattle. Something felt off, but she couldn’t be sure until they arrived in town.

[/blockquote]

[Naitome]

Water.

I reply inexplicably, a bit too loud, a placating announcement that is as much recognition of my fault at insulting her as a blatant admission of guilt.

My hair...the secret is water, but not that which is produced by a stream or lake. I...create it. From the air. From the infinite moisture of the atmosphere, from nothingness.

I am unsure why someone like her, someone who has no doubt been beautiful and confident for the entirety of their life, would care about my opinions, but she is upset. I hold out my arm as if beckoning her to stop, then call for a minor swell of chakra to encapsulate the air before me into a palm sized sphere of water. It is dense with chakra, and rotates above the skin of my upturned hand for a few seconds before falling to the forest floor like rain fall. I smile, out of nervous habit, the reaction of one who does not know what else to do, and I am irritated that I have already complicated our partnership.

My words were not meant to be insulting...I am...

...I am not often in the company of women who look like you.

And I do not know if such an ambiguous statement will make matters worse or better, yet I cannot elaborate. I am embarrassed at my own focus on such physical matters. My thoughts should be on the mission. I am too disciplined and frightful to recognize my desire as anything other than the gut reactions of a clueless boy, and the blush staining my face returns as I move to catch up with her quickening pace towards the town.

Where the horizon line splits into shadow-flecked cloud, I can already see the indistinct boundaries of grave stones. We will arrive soon. I take the time to scan our surroundings for signs of other people; farmers out on the fringe or bandits escaping to their camps, wild-life or patterns of footprints, anything. But even the cacophony of forest creatures crying out to mate or find their kin have silenced themselves the closer we get to the civilian burial site marking the village border, and I am unnerved.

Hotaru...

I say hesitantly, whispering, as if her name is the first word in a prayer.

...listen. It's too quiet.

☯

[Hotaru]

”. . . “

Silence. Akuharu attempted multiple times to calm storming kunoichi, though even through all of his atonement Hotaru simply kept walking. That is, until he uttered the words ‘it’s too quiet.’ After his final sentiment was given, she stopped. Silence hung in the air like a soap bubble drifting through the wind. Anticipation built, likely on both ends, until finally, it popped.

”Bahahahahahahaha!”

She finally giggled, unable to uphold her illusion of an emotionally wounded child. She turned around promptly and continued to chuckle, meeting Akuharu’s inevitable face of confusion with even more laughter. She quickly re-closed the few strides that separated them and rested her hand on his shoulder, fighting off another fit of giggles so she could address her partner.

”Pffh. You should see you face. Relax, Akuharu. Don’t act like such a girl. Takes a lot more than that to make me upset~. Come on, lets go take care of some business. We’re almost there.”

Turning around, she strutted forward with a reclaimed bravada that had temporarily been quelled for her own entertainment. Her intention wasn’t to be mean, though she couldn’t be sure how Akuharu would deal with this wicked brand of humor. At best, it would lighten the mood and bring them closer. At worst, he would have some extra rage to take out on whatever enemy they were going to be dealing with. Either way, it was a win win. If he really was upset, she could patch things up later...though in her opinion if it was that easy to rile up her new partner, he probably should find another career...or at least find a nicer partner.

The duo would soon be passing near the graveyard en route to the village, so Hotaru kept her eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. She didn’t anticipate battling this early, though stranger things had happened.

[/blockquote]

[Naitome]

Yare, yare...

I mutter, partially hidden by the quick exhalation of breath that serves as comfort to the truth that I have not truly insulted her. Still...I am taken aback; she has already proven to be more complex than the brazen exhibitionist I originally envisioned, and even more, she's proved that the others are right. I am far too serious.

A part of me rebels. Some hidden secret recess of uncovered memory winds through fragmented moments of pain wherein every simple, happy moment was purged by the introduction of overwhelming violence. I am a product of that which I have seen. A prisoner still, a slave to the past. I look out into the gray monoliths transforming the landscape into rows of stone dotting a one hundred meter expanse like animal droppings and shiver absentmindedly in the increasing cold. I frown lightheartedly and continue behind her, until the path we traveled to arrive here is lost completely in the mist. The graveyard beckons. We move on.

Until we are walking side-by-side, I say little, only nodding in stoic appreciation of the effort that has gone into making these final resting places of the dead seem...regal and haughty. I see a man in ragged clothing shuffle, as if he is going to force his way past a column of overgrown hedge that separates him from a nearby conflagration of cooing pigeons. His arms move abnormally, sporadic. My hearbeat quickens and I hold a single hand up to touch Hotaru's arm and stop her advancing, a feeling like sparks burst across the tips of my fingers as I speak.

Up ahead. Eighty meters. He's trying to get to the birds?

The absurdity of the situation causes the last sentence to feel like a question, but I know I should not act on my own judgement alone.

Should we attempt to ask him what has happened?

☯

[Hotaru]

“ . . . “

Hotaru was silent again, but this time for a different reason. Instead of feigning anger, she was simply stunned at the lack of emotion expressed by her partner. He had seemed upset that he had ‘hurt’ her feelings a few moments before, but had no reaction at all to the fact that her performance was for her own entertainment.

What is wrong with this kid. . . he has the emotional range of a toaster. A toaster with fabulous hair, but a toaster nonetheless.

Suddenly, a figure 80 meters away seemed to catch Akuharu’s attention. Despite the distance, he was able to make out a man trying to push his way through a hedge in order to get to a small flock of birds.

”. . . What, do you have binoculars build into your skull or something Wonder Weave? Maybe he’s just feeding them or something. I can’t even see the birds from this far back.”

However, pair approached, and sure enough they found the scene exactly as Akuharu had described. Something seemed. . . off about the man’s posture and body language but his back was turned to them, making it difficult to diagnose exactly what was wrong with him.

Heeeey! Mister! Where is everybody? Can you point us to the mayor of this village?"

She shouted from about 10 meters away, loud enough to be clearly heard by anyone in that distance. She was met with silence; the stranger didn’t even turn around to acknowledge her request.

“Is it not a mayor? How about the lord? . . . The count? . . . the wizard? Hellooo?"

[/blockquote]

[Naitome]

Flaunting your inability to properly scout an area no further away than the simplest of academy level training exercises is a brave choice for a leader, but ultimately, less than inspiring.

I smile wide as I say this, and we near the strange shuffling stranger who ignores Hotaru's attempts at conversation. Closing the distance to 10 meters, it is easier to discern details about his appearance and manner, and I am taken aback immediately by the smell of decay emanating from his grayed skin. He mutters, sharp inhalations of breath punctuated only by a low growling sound, and turns suddenly, his nose sniffing at the air, before facing us head on.

The left half of his head, is gone.

The flesh has been worn away, as if some beast nearly made the man its dinner. His stomach is a gaping hole barely covered by the jutting bone that seems to have been thrust upwards from his pelvis and crushed into his rib cage itself. He would have been a taller man, but the damage does not bother him at all. His teeth are rotten. His single remaining eye hangs down to his sallow cheekbones and he roars in our direction, raises his hand, his entrails spilling down to his feet as he trips over intestine and sliced globs of his own liver but still approaches. He ignores everything. He is committed only on getting nearer.

The sound of nearby structures being broken apart is accompanied by a roaring response from the area surrounding myself and Hotaru. Others, each as heavily damaged and unconcerned as the first man, begin their lumbering gait towards us as I remove Akurojin-no-hi from my back and speak up to my partner.

They probably want more than medicine.

☯