Tsuriaichi
Prologue
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It hurt.
If it was the only thing she knew in quantities than it was most certainly pain. She knew there was a difference between physical pain and emotional pain but over the years of her existence, that line was slowly eroded until the definition was only retained by a tenuous thread. Yet such a definition still did not cover the entire spectrum of hurts humans forced them selves to feel within their allotted lifespan.
For her, living had become one constant trial after painful trial and error was always blatantly waiting around the corner for her to slip and fall. And fall she did, not necessarily hard but fall nevertheless. It was another regular fact in her isolated life that nagged at her ambitions, still trying to back her into the corner of mediocrity and hopelessness.
Still trying were the keywords, she had a strong will which continued to solidify with each of her successes. Her story was not all sunshine, butterflies and the will of youth, no, it was far from it. For every few steps forward there was always, always, steps backwards.
She absently brushed long strands of hair from her face, letting the feel of the silky tresses dissipate the beginnings of a familiar train of thoughts, one she did not want to travel at any given time. Irrevocably every session was interrupted by the same whirl of memories and questions and she would not be fit to continue. It irked her that she was unable to restrain the dark musings of her own mind while being retaught the basics of controlling one's body.
The throbbing ache in her left wrist reminded her of why she had started down that particular philosophical path again. Pain. She shoved both relevant and unwanted thoughts alike to the side and concentrated solely on the problem at hand.
Rough textured fingers gently probed the area around the joint, assessing the injury as best as she could. The swelling had already commenced and with a little more stimulation from her fingers the bruising would manifest earlier as well. She let a sigh escape her lips, one that revealed a tiny extent of the exhaustion she was concealing.
The new sprain topped a long list of scrapes and injuries which coloured her young life. She guessed she should be used to it by now and in a way she was, but it did get tiresome when the repetition of a hurt reached ten. Mentally dragging up the list she counted the amount of damage her left arm had received since she had started training years ago. Two shoulder dislocations, a broken forearm, some fractured or sprained fingers and this was the thirteenth time the wrist had been sprained.
Obsidian eyes glinted from across the clearing, silently laughing at her misfortune for he had won their little bet - whether she would push too hard and injure her self - again. She ignored them for the moment, tucking the injured limb against her chest and using the other to lever her tired body from its rest on the grass. A small rock hidden in the greenery pressed into her palm and made her wince; she forgot the right hand also did not escape unscathed. It was mostly light grazes, nothing serious, so she took no notice of the stinging either.
It was with another small exhale of breath that she walked casually over to the mocking young man, swiping dirt and grass blades from her sweatpants and palms. He wordlessly held out a hand towards her, palm up, which she glared at briefly before resting the requested appendage in the other's hand. With deceptive gentleness in his strong fingers, he proceeded to firmly bind her wrist in a long, cloth bandage he had procured from the belt pouch he wore. Her eyes wandered from the ministration to appreciate the environment blooming around them.
Spring had come early to the valley this year and it seemed that the sleeping flora knew the bright orb above offered no real warmth for the first couple of weeks. Only in the last week had there been any heat to the sunlight excluding the mornings where the air still carried a slight chill.
Looking beyond the onyx eyed man's shoulders she could see a mass of bushes clumping together, proudly adorned by brilliant orange and dazzling yellow flowers. There were purple wildflowers growing approximately a quarter turn of the glen, which was far enough along so the clash of colours weren't as intense had they been next door. If she glanced over her left shoulder, a small patch of white petalled groundcover waved happily back at her. She felt as if she knew its name but she had never been good at horticulture and thus the plant's name stayed elusive.
Lilies were the only flowers she could identify correctly from their shape, mainly because the name meanings of some of her family members contained lily. The rest of the foliage varied from glossy, dark green leaves to the lighter olive of several grass shrubs scattered in this area.
A throaty sound of satisfaction and the accompanied nod of the male brunette reeled her attention back to him. She retrieved her arm and inspected the handiwork; it was comfortably tight and restricted the joint from excessive movement, assisting the healing process. The corners of her mouth lifted into a smile of thanks for her friend.
Her eyes crinkled as she imagined the verbal abuse he would throw at her if she told him he would make a great mother one day. The young man standing beside her was solidly built and entirely masculine but there were some days where his placid nature bordered on maternal.
He motioned with a hand that he was going to return home. This happened every time she managed enough energy for an outside session so she just nodded. He would accompany her out, supervise the training and then leave when he was satisfied she had given up the strenuous part of her jaunt for the day.
She watched his retreating blue clothed back until it was masked by the multitude of thin trunks and copious amount of foliage. The last thing on her light schedule was meditation so she turned in the direction of her favourite place and started walking.
The location wasn't a great distance from the glen, taking mere minutes to get there. What made it her favourite place was that it was a small guarded alcove on the bank of a nondescript river which coursed through the forest. The ground at the base of the trees was springy and comfy to rest upon; she bet she could stay for hours without moving but personal safety never allowed her the chance.
She made her unhurried way to one of the older trees whose roots formed an armchair like seat which fit snugly against her back. The soothing sounds of swift water and the plaintive calls of the native birds merged together in a delicate song for her meditation exercise.
She simply closed her eyes and drew the tranquillity of the forest into her body with slow, deep breaths. This was probably the only time when she actively contemplated that series of philosophical ideas and facts about herself that she had pointedly chose to reject previously.
The session today was, to all purposes in her mind, a failure and one of those frequent steps in the wrong direction. It was not only the new injury she had sustained - that would force her to idle for the next few days, which the mere thought of chafed her - but she had not made any progress in her training.
Somehow she felt at odds with her self. She spent countless hours attempting to refine her control over her bloodline limit; in fact it had been over ten years since she had begun. However she was undoubtedly nowhere near the stage she had hoped to be by now.
On the other hand, she had made a promise to become a fully fledged user of family's kakei genkai no matter how long it took. A wave of melancholy swept over her heart as the memory played unbidden in her mind.
She remembered blood, a lot of blood, and the fear and confusion of a little child.
Her father lay on the ground in front of her, breathing harshly and coughing up more of the red substance than she thought one person should be able to. She cried slumped over his form, hands twisted in his pale blue-grey vest, now sullied with his blood, and he snaked an arm around her shoulders in a comforting act.
He crooned as he rubbed her shoulder, told her she would be alright and to remain strong for the family. She knew he was dying; her parents had prepared her for the possibility that they may be parted but it still didn't make it an easier on the ten year old girl.
The enemy had already disappeared with her mother and brother as well as some others of the clan and she had no idea whether any of them were still alive or not. The broad hand stilled shortly when he suddenly coughed again.
Her father hadn't been a strong warrior even so she admired his determination to perform every thing to the best of his ability. She managed to choke out a promise around her tears and he just smiled at his daughter one last time.
She bit the inside of her mouth. It was not good to dwell too long on the past, for it happened, nothing was going to change. Many of her clan had died in the fight or discovered missing afterwards much to the sorrow of those who had survived. The fact they had been attacked did not shock the remaining adults - it was a given for any family with a kakei genkai, especially hers as they were only a small clan to begin with - rather the kidnapping of clan members.
She thought it laughable that any body would want the knowledge of her bloodline, may be the strikes were meant to get rid of the presence of such weakness so it did not corrupt any of the more powerful clans. An uncharacteristic sadistic part of her wallowed in her pain that her clan was the probably the laughingstock of the entire shinobi world; despised, demoted to worthless ninja wannabes and ridiculed for their inability to use their own techniques successfully.
The tears began welling and she inadvertently clenched her teeth so hard they broke the skin of her mouth, tasting the metallic tang of blood. This was one of the reasons why the line between physical and emotional pain had blurred so much for her. Each hurt found a means to punctuate both sides, an endless circle just like today.
The training accident led onto the self doubt she harboured which in turn brought her to the absence of her immediate family and round again to inflicting more abuse on her self. A never ending cycle of various pains the human being possessed.
There was only one reliable course she could pursue to gain the knowledge and training she needed to control her bloodline and that required the assistance of certain shinobi. Yet she feared venturing from the relative safety of the hidden abode she and the clan called home, afraid of the possible rejection from the last village she had left to ask, Konohagakure of Fire Country.
Considering what happened the last time she had travelled abroad in search of ninja villages to take her on, her worries were well justified. It had taken the past couple of years for her to able to gather the courage to leave again, now that she had recovered enough mentally and physically to consider asking for foreign help. She disliked relying on others but it seemed circumstances had conspired for her to spend her entire life depending on people.
If not for her promise to her father and the love of her remaining family, she was not sure whether she would have fared as well as she had. She had been, still was, a keen student and had her ambition to keep her moving forward. Her family was the most precious thing in the world to her and she wanted to return to the Hosoku clan something they had been missing for a few generations; a skilled shinobi and master of their kakei genkai, Tsuriaishi.
But was she actually ready to depart her family once again to achieve her dream.