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The thudding of impact reverberated throughout my body. Black robes enveloped a sight that had been unerringly fixed on a book now missing. What was it? An… elbow?! My mind was fogged, distracted by a warm throbbing as my feet touched ground. In a swift, graceful movement the path between the book and myself had been obstructed. My eyes whipped from the newly-vacant spot in the bookshelf to the thief, and then to the book that rested calmly beneath her grip. My book. I tensed upon seeing it, as if ready to pounce once more, though my eyes then befell the calm severity of the figure that was attached to the book, and I recalled her cursory dismantling of my hopes. I realized pouncing would be futile. My body relaxed slowly, then; though, my eyebrows remained slightly furrowed, and eyes slightly squinted. My gaze drew lines between the book and her cold, reserved countenance, back and forth. I noticed a vaguely familiar deportment as I regarded like a starved wolf her looming form. She possessed a certain remoteness, a distance, which could be felt even as we faced each other closely. She looked as if she occupied another world simultaneous to this one—a world that admitted her mind only, and her mind alone—and that her body remained physically in this world by mere necessity. She would escape, if she could. Or, perhaps I was merely projecting. Either yet, I nonetheless noticed a familiarity in her.

Surprisingly, Miru was much calmer than I. He had taken an interest in the woman, and was looking up at her curiously in the space between us. I guessed that he merely enjoyed the sight of my getting struck in the head by another, but as our minds connected I realized that there was something deeper inside him. He saw something, as well. But something different than I. He inched closer as her words momentarily filled the silence. They weren’t menacing words, but gentle and tonally mature, as a mother to her child, or an eldest sibling to a mischievous youth. I wouldn’t be spoken to in such a way! And her calmness, with the book I’d spent years in fervent wonder about nested firmly between her arm and waist! I knew it didn’t matter to her. The cold air that surrounded us reflected her precisely, I thought. Maybe in another circumstance, I would have been the same. But at this moment, in this situation, I was not. I was a conflagration of white fire, and my sclera flamed as they were forced inescapably to watch her clutches clutching the physical form of my very dreams. Pale fingers wrapped around its binding, exclaiming their ownership and my personal demise. Furthermore, who was this obstructive person? She moved with the kind of litheness that simply escaped ordinary folk, but that she was a shinobi was uncertain. She certainly wasn’t a shinobi of Kirigakure. What could she want with that book, to be after it so ardently, it not even being her home land? I looked at her irately, my hand moving to massage my battered skull.

“Who do you think you are?” I seethed in a hushed voice. “How dare you, heathen! y-you struck me!”

“And that book is not yours to take!”

                             “That was mine! You saw me reaching, you cold woman!”

                                                                           “What could you possibly want with it, anyway?”

knew, knowing, to know.

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It was interesting, how the atmosphere transformed when one passed from country to country. I could imagine the relief felt after days of trudging though the buffeting, sandy winds of Kaze no Kuni, to finally be met with the rains of Ame at its border. I could picture the cloudless, feverish skies shifting, almost imperceptibly, to skies that were cloud-filled and sun-sheltering; no more wind, just an eternal downpour and a time-dragging wetness. It was enjoyable to imagine, taking what I’d learned from my studies in geography, piecing lands side-by-side and flowing through them on a travelling wind.

But to witness it was something else entirely. I would, for the first time, as I finally set off from Kirigakure on what I hoped would be a concise and productive excursion. I was a lone figure, sitting calmly atop a narrow boat that rocked and swayed over waves of deep, dark blue. A dense mist surrounded, rising up from the sea and down from the skies, blinding sea-farers and their worldly eyes. My own matched the mist, silvery-white, and they could be just as all-encompassing. It truly was that—all-encompassing. I could tilt my head back, to the left, to the right, and any direction in between—still, nothing but the whispering water could be seen. It played along my bare skin, caressing and floating by, meandering only half-aware. It was like this for a while.

Slowly, though, it would begin to subside, as the waters became shallower, and the sky reluctantly began to let itself be seen. The atmosphere transformed before my eyes as I drifted gently; my fingers glided over the waters, noting a new warmth in them. Slowly, gradually, the air around me dried, the caress of mist ambling away before, finally, its washing breeze could no longer be felt. And then brilliant green hues began to line the horizon; darks and lights, blotting my fore before long. The skies cleared, a drier wind fluttered past, and the boat sped along at an unprecedented pace, no longer impeded by the all-encompassing lull of Mizu’s space. I could see sticks of brown, forest colors atop them, becoming larger and larger as I advanced. The waters shifted in color, becoming lighter and lighter, until finally I could see the sand beneath, and the sands of a beach at my fore. The specks of brown and green had become several times my size as I came to a triumphant halt. A sunny warmth covered skin that was bare, and placed itself kindly along clothes that covered similarly. I placed my hand along the edge of the boat, steadying myself before dropping onto sandy ground. I had arrived in the Land of Fire.

Hi no Kuni—center of the continent, home to legends of valiance and valor, to deeds of vigor and vitality, and to my illustrious destination. Everything sat here beneath a calm, amiable sun. It was impossible for me to forget, however, that despite the welcoming weather and the verdant nature, this place also housed something else. They were etched into my mind, the events that had befallen the Mist in a chaos of flame and wailing. The howling laughter of the Hokage as he overwhelmed the village in a blaze of vehement force, his orders, our forced subjugation. We had yet been rescued from a despot and re-chained in a single, disordered moment. The power of the shinobi here warranted respect, certainly, and thus it had been with prudence and negative premonitions that I—

“Ahh, the sun at last..” a voice interrupted.

My eyes trailed to my bag, slightly annoyed, as a once-slumbering creature noisily crawled its way out. Mirumiya, my feline companion, to express it lightly. We shared a deeper bond than mere owner and companion, really. A bond of equals, a bond less corporeal, more spiritual. A soul-tethering. Our eyes met and I glided my arm across my fore as if displaying the forested expanse to him. And then we were footsteps in the sand, sloping up until sand ended and we were enveloped by a dimmer lighting, structures of healthy bark, and the pleasant scent of summer nature. We crept through the forest at first, picking up speed before leaping from natural cantilevers of worn wood and clustered leaves. The sun peaked through in certain spots, appearing as splotches of amber light against the otherwise shaded ground. We continued on, and on, and on. Eventually the light gave way to the dark of night, and then the dark to light, revolving as we cycled through the expansive country. And then the forest itself gave way to rolling plains, and a wide road parallel to its border welcomed our dexterous forms.

“Not far now,” the white cat sighed, “let the road be our guide.”

I nodded, and we followed the road into a crowd of travelling wagons and chariots and children with parents. Probably the most travelled road on the continent, it spanned wide and long, cutting through the country, leading directly into the trade hub of Tanzaku Gai.

Why was I here? I had anticipated the day for years now, since the first spell woven by pages turning enchanted me forever. We were burgeoning scholars, Mirumiya and I; we took our residence in towers of ivory, and found solace in words stretching from front to back. Normally, I wasn’t allowed out of the country, being a Genin, but with our short supply of trustworthy shinobi these days, when the request was posted, I was a starved white tiger; I pounced with ferociousness, ripping the sheet from its place and gathering supplies in the same moment. I was gone from the village that night. It wasn’t because of any aversion that I hurried—no, my love of Kirigakure made my swift leave that much more impressive. What presented itself had simply been too seductive, too alluring. We were set, officially, without a doubt, undoubtedly, irrevocably, without question—yes, certainly set—for Fukukaiha, ‘owls communion’, the largest library in the shinobi world. My heart had sank as I read the words, the mission slip quivering in my grasp; Miru’s body shuddered, a deep purr as our thoughts became one and were off. And now we had arrived. Hi no Kuni, home to Tanzaku Gai, home to Fukukaiha, home to anything.

I had never been this excited before, ever. Butterflies fluttered, I became a butterfly. Miru saw it. I flew past the people, they were unnoticed, past the gates, the guards, the buildings, the passageways and the bustling crowds. I tore through the wind, and then I was beneath it in all of its grandeur.

“...”

“...”

It rose story above story, foreshadowing the stories to be found within. New knowledge to attain, worlds to be explored, the time had finally come. My accomplice’s ears stood on edge, his hair frazzled slightly in a fit of excitement. While I technically had a mission to complete—a slew of books to retrieve—I had had the prudence to reserve a room, and several day’s stay. This was it. Wish fulfillment, a dream here manifest. I stepped through the colossal doorway, eyes glowing in awe, amazed. We were here.

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Wind sped around me as my pace doubled, disrupting the calculations and denying defense. I was inside him before he could properly hack his blade. It fell in mid-slash, clattering against the floor before reverting to smoke. The other surged forward. He had moved to flank me as I advanced, and I willfully let it happen, eyes still forward as they nonetheless watched him. I turned in a sudden, rapid motion as he neared, releasing uncompromising chakra from my flank as I did so. Kaiten reared, devout and equipped to defend, though I would stop the motion before revolving completely, coming to face the clone that was no longer there. I had observed with amusement him collide stupidly with the unexpected, beating force in my turning, becoming as the one before him—becoming as they would all become.

Anterior to the skirmish, I acknowledged loony’s reply in negative as it sounded over my shoulder. It wasn’t a cause for concern—I assumed it meant that he had a plan of his own. For a moment though, I was admittedly trepidatious, half-expecting him to, for some reason that escaped reason itself, allow the earth to pacify him. I was relieved as a feat reminiscent of the earth-ripping would send finely-tuned chakra through his fist, impacting with the incoming slab in a nuclear collision.

I was nearby once more as the battered earth came down like a falling meteor. A crater formed where it landed, just before its antagonist called to me. I looked at it and then back at him. A faint grin.

“Jaaku-sama,” I nodded.

“Alas, I would be a fool to grant your presence here any degree of surprise.”

A stalagmite of earth formed beneath me as I finished; I stepped to the side flippantly. My finger ran across it, toying with the one I knew was watching. It had moved slower than before, and I sensed a certain desperation. My sight rose to the station’s upper level as I concurred with his sentiment, scanning as smoke filled lungs and blinded eyes. Chakra ceased altogether; I could see a look of confusion on the face of one, his heart pounding as he suddenly became sightless. Faltering in fear, his anonymity was compromised as the others followed suit an instant too late. There were four left, mirroring the number there had been in the beginning. He was running out of chakra; I could see it in him. His core trembled, hands shook, and beads of sweat fell in groups of three and four, soaking the dust-covered floor beneath him. Whatever remained failed and dwindled as seconds passed. Lowering my site, I became aware suddenly of what had been the stalagmite's gradual decrease in height, as they formed a slanted path trailing the one I had taken toward the two clones. It must have been frustrating, attempting to target one whose eyes could watch the targeting before it could mean anything. Yet, albeit not managing so much as a scratch, his death-wish made itself plain. He dug his grave with pathetic faith and clinging.

“Only four," I responded, "and, he'll be the one in the very back.”

I noticed, then, a different procession of chakra. It clashed with another outside, an acolyte making another serpentine figure his victim. This one was smaller, with long hair of an interesting color, and a scythe at his side. I had faith that he would overtake the man, that he would force that scythe into him, forcing hell into his eyes in a moment of flaming recognition; but, either way, I wouldn’t interfere. We were in a new Mist, now. The era of shaky resolve and comforting hands ministering themselves to the weak had ended with the death of the Mizukage. If he couldn’t defend himself against a pedestrian, perhaps he didn’t deserve to live. Certainly not in our Mist. Whatever happened, I directed my attention back to my cohort, thinking to grab onto his robes if he decided to use his power-chakra to leap up. It was getting closer now. Moments, and we would have the station adorned to resemble the church.

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The quiet embrace of mist and chilled air left me as I found my way inside. An empty corridor came to house a still form. I was placed against the door’s posterior; patient, listening. The walls of the hall were painted with the colors of the church. One could feel their presence in them, in the laziness of the strokes, the contented and careless attention to detail, even the paltry color itself. They didn’t belong in this world, but fortunately for them, I was benevolent—just filled with compassion. I would shepherd them eagerly back to where they belonged. Back before the womb, the endless void that in its infinity could house all. They would be met with open arms. Arms of bone and void, the skeletal form of Hades himself. I was simply a myrmidon, a faithful servant—a messenger, an emissary. An earthly representative of the thing itself, of the one thing that ended all things, the thing that everything else was forever moving toward. It would embrace this building in a final cataclysmic orgy before long.

I saw and felt it in ecstatic visions. Energy and form altering themselves, altering states, pouring waves of crimson and bone into the abyss. And the shattering of structures, collapsing like a metal hammer against a figure of glass, crumbling like a loaf of bread lost within the clutches of death. The rendering of solids into liquids, of stability into instability, with but a signal it would all come to pass.

I was calmly and continuously there, counting the seconds, my form marking an impasse between the hall and the light of the outer world. It was almost time. I reared and tensed, ready to move beyond the hallway; it smelled like the church, reminding me unremittingly of loathing and disdain. Some kind of foul incense burned everywhere they went; it would be masked with a different smell, as soon as I heard the sound. The dim lighting would blot out too, once the sound was heard. Ticking and tocking, hourglass falling, and then it was. A cacophony of death-wails and fearful scrambling. Colliding with walls, with one another, with steel, with sound. Padding nearby called me; they made their way for the back door, with my accomplice a black hole sucking into the afterlife anything that moved toward the front. Yet I would form another, a death-vacuum, as chakra awoke from within. Running would end with legs severed from their bodies, and faces frozen in shock, similarly detached. More came, then, in a drove of belligerent trembling, their hearts set on that back door. Oh, you unfortunate souls—I am so sorry, but I am closed for the day, is what the door said. Closed for good. They didn’t hear it; they continued forward until needles of chakra closed in on them, and they became at once a lifeless pile. I climbed over the mound, now, issuing death to stragglers who could no longer see the door barricaded by dead bodies.

My sight was two rooms over, surveying what was proceeding in the front of the building, scanning the cloth-ridden bodies that had appeared, sizing them up. They weren’t ordinary, nor much more. Bodies continued to wilt and wither before me as I flew through the building, more piles forming on my way to aid our frontal assault. I was lithe through the door-less opening that led into the antechamber, a gaze of calm resolve falling on the heretic before the soon-dead. Chakra flared as I locked onto what moved beneath the cloth, like a viper searching for the faintest faltering, looking to maim and incapacitate. I was their new shepherd, here to guide them to a new land; an eternity spent beneath a moonless night.

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Light peered through the gently dropping rain, glinting a clear silver. Rain was peculiar in this region of the world. It was never a direct rain. It often found itself lost before reaching its destination, falling into the mist before relinquishing itself of form and becoming the mist. You could see it happen, the two modes of nature clashing softly together in tiny, wild dances of crystalline liquid. When it did land, it would jump lightly up before collapsing into indiscernibility. It all faded, one way or another.

There were certain instances where it would recur, however. One final chance to make itself known as liquid before catching a flight on a vaporous wind back into the sky. The padding of feet could do this, for instance. They were doing it now, actually. It could be heard, if one were to listen close enough. They came, steadily, steadily, the ambient plodding of the falling clear making way for more imminent sounds. It happened—water flying over feet rapidly padding away, sprinting as water fell and jumped and fell again. There was splashing, faint breathing, and the clinking together of a metallic something. The motion was just around the corner, now. Water continued to splash as the legs continued their cycling. A sliver of silver pierced the rain as it happened, when all that could be seen was still empty space filled with dancing water. It glided cold and swift. It cut through the rain, and the mist couldn’t help. And then it came to a halt. The feet became still, as well. No more padding, no more water splashing, no more clinking and no more faint breathing. There was just gasping, now. And spilling. Blood fell like rubies into the rain. Cleansing rain. It washed the blood from the fading life that could no longer do so. What a sight. Knees now dug themselves into the ground, and I met the same eyes that had only moments before beheld me in distress. Now the life had faded from them. The body collapsed into the watery beneath. One final splash, as the sliver of silver that lodged itself through temple bone glinted in satisfaction.

With a short traipse it was back in my hand. I let the water run over it, washing away the blood and brain fluid. I watched calmly as it flowed through my fingers, coagulating along their underside before gathering enough weight to fall like the rain that surrounded. The lethal thing was then stowed away, and my hand moved on to the sack of coin still attached to the wet carcass. A pull and it was my own. I opened it for a moment, staring with a sigh as water fell through. My gaze moved between the body and the bag, searching for something invisible. Cause of death: a few pieces of coin. A single, luxurious night, and a whore to keep him company. This was what men died for, it seemed. All over, everywhere. Money gave them purpose—it gave them life, it gave them death. It all meant nothing to me. Their death, their money—I didn’t care. I had a different purpose. Only the beasts got in the way. I would slaughter them all as I did this one. They were no more than wet carcasses, all. They meant nothing.

I was relieved to be left from his sight. Leisurely, as it turned, sight would find a new fancy. Silent black. Black like a bad omen, or a crow waiting patiently to feast. An elegant, serene crow. I witnessed the countenance of a twin youth. Empty staring—an expressionless expression; maybe a bit pensive, actually, but there was still a familiar equanimity in him. A coldness. What had the world done to her? Her, was it? Silly to consider. We were all eunuchs before the sky, anyway. I didn’t see any difference. She appeared in the rain, there, alone regarding. She looked from another world, as if she didn’t belong here. As if at any moment she may blossom wings and disappear. The patch of dry land encircling her and her umbrella furthered the angelic feeling. It was unbalancing, the sight. But I didn’t give any inclination. I merely peered back. The body lay there beside me, the rain beating it through and through, and yet I saw no flinching. Just a mirror, reflecting. What had happened in the passing seconds? Nothing was spoken, though sight found itself caught off guard. The others of the humming village had long ago scurried, the rain drawing them inside. The village was empty, it seemed, except for this one. How long had it been looking? I felt something I had never felt before, looking there at the unmoving whatever. Genuine intrigue at the sight of another human being. Was that what this was? I looked more quizzically, now. My eyes traced the thin figure, up and down, searching for the faintest hint of anything. Was I dreaming?

The falling rain subsided, a sudden deed. Nature’s will was away for somewhere else. The blurry haze that was an almost unaccounted for concomitant of the rain had moved on, too. But I was still here. And I knew that I wasn’t hallucinating. Tranquil shade, deathly nightfall, or caliginous obscurity? Whichever. They were all embodied there before me. Who was this person that I had never seen before? Why did they have such an effect on me? I forgot about returning the bag of money. I was lost in wondering.