Status: Done.
Salt in the Wound
A change of mind.
A cool breeze slipped through my room and woke me out of my gentle sleep. I shivered lightly and looked around, a small moan escaping my lips. My balcony doors were hanging open, the chill desert air rushing in and all around me. “Now why are these open?” I muttered to myself as I slowly made my way to the doors, I stepped outside and looked around, suddenly mesmerized by the bright night sky. A shadow out of the corner of my eye brought my attention to the lit up window next to mine. That must be Gaara’s office, I thought to myself. I went to the edge of my balcony and looked over at him, he didn’t see me as he looked over the village from his own window. He looked almost sad as he stared over at the endless amount of sand, not only sad but empty. His eyes averted towards the balcony but by the time he would have met my eyes, I had already darted back into my room.
I collapsed back on my bed, holding my hand to my heart. He almost caught me. Taking a deep breath I spread myself across the bed, getting comfortable. I spent a while trying to get back to sleep but my near encounter with Gaara made me anxious for some reason. A thrill to be unseen by the all seeing boy. Time slowly slipped by, and yet I could not get myself back to sleep. I stood up and looked around the moonlit room, eyeing the books with wonder.
Gaara had an interesting mixture of books. Some historical, some biographical, and some even slipping into the fictional category. The spines were worn down as if he had read these books over and over again. I pulled a book out, the title I couldn’t quite make out, opening it slowly and being careful not bend anything in the wrong places. It was a book full of morbid information, demons from across the lands all throughout time, recorded carefully and the horrors ensued documented. Several pages had been scrawled upon with red ink, side notes of potential weaknesses and names of countless victims. I came across a page with an illustration of a two headed beast. His eyes glowed red and a dark liquid appeared to seep from his mouth as he towered over a screaming man. A faint shadow floated above the man, his soul perhaps? The name Hitsuchi was elegantly typed and faded, I skimmed through the sections ignoring parts I had known already about him and old tales that were told to me when I was a child, my finger stopped at a particular point in the book. It was hard to read in the moonlight, but somehow I managed. The section I was reading was sub-titled “The Burning Light Massacre” and it told of that fated night when so many good people were slaughtered. Frowning, I shook my head at the wrong information, considering Hitsuchi came into the village from the north, not the west. The book stated that every body had been placed in a grave site, located directly in the middle of the old village. My eyes turned towards the red script next to it, “only one body uncounted for.” it read elegantly. I smiled faintly, that was me. Not a name, just another dead body among the masses. Sighing, I closed the book and slid it back on the shelf, that was enough of that book tonight.
I continued to scan over the books, mentally marking the ones that held potential interest. I took one of the first ones I had looked at off the shelf and held it in my hands, not quite sure if I was even allowed to read them. I knew Gaara was awake, assuming he wasn’t lying when he told me he didn’t sleep. I stepped out of my room and into the dark silent hallway, the dim lights shown bright from under his door. Hesitantly, I lightly knocked on his door. “Hello?” He asked, sounding almost as confused as I felt.
I opened his door and slipped in, closing the door behind me. His eyes looked me over slowly, his mouth parted open slightly. A sudden blush ran across his cheeks as he turned away from me slightly. “Where are your clothes?” He asked quietly. I looked down at my body, a sudden flush ran through me. I had been so caught up in the books that I completely overlooked my lack of clothing. I wore one of the few pairs of underwear I had been given, rather small and black, with a small baby blue cotton shirt that teased up around my stomach. I grasped at my shirt and pulled it as far down as I could.
“My apologies Gaara.” I scurried out of the door and back into my own room, my face hot as fire itself. How classy, I thought stubbornly. I sunk back into my bed, placing the book next to my side and laying back. A small knock on my door sounded out.
“Are you decent now?” Gaara asked quietly. I said yes with as much dignity as I could muster and watched as he walked towards me with his hands in his pockets. “You seemed as if you wanted to ask me something.” He questioned.
“Oh, uh, yeah I did. I was just wondering if I could read a book of yours that you had in here.” I glanced up at him and picked up the book. “Couldn’t sleep much.” I said flatly. His dark eyes widened in the light and he nodded without saying a word. He sat across from me on the bed and picked up the book in his hands, flipping through the pages.
“This book is good, but it’s not the best I have.” He said finally after closing it. Standing up he walked over to the book shelves, after running his finger down the books he pulled one out. “If you would like to, I recommend reading this one first.” He placed it in my lap and sat back down. Picking it up I fingered through the pages, every couple pages were adorned with a beautiful, intricate illustration. I smiled and flipped the page again. As I turned the page, the paper slid across my finger, leaving a fine cut on my finger.
“Ow.” I said, pulling my finger away from the book. The blood gathered around the cut, making the stinging slightly worse. I looked up at Gaara whose eyes were focused on my small cut. “My luck, huh?” I said sadly. His hands closed around my own, pulling it closer to him. His touch was soft, gentle, and cool. In an instant he took my finger and put it in his mouth, ignoring my small gasp of shock. His mouth was soothingly warm and I could feel his tongue gently sweep over the small cut. His eyes met mine, wide and intent, looking for any negative sign. My face relaxed and a small smile fell across my lips as he took the tip of my finger out of his mouth, looking at it again with a hint of satisfaction on his boyish face. He nodded and placed my hand back on my lap softly, his eyes met mine for a split second before he closed them again. It was a gentle gesture, one a child would do to himself if he had gotten cut, it was almost nurturing in a way. He stood up, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
“Goodnight Ishiko.” He gave a small bow, not once taking his eyes off of me. I nodded back.
“Goodnight Gaara.”
I collapsed back on my bed, holding my hand to my heart. He almost caught me. Taking a deep breath I spread myself across the bed, getting comfortable. I spent a while trying to get back to sleep but my near encounter with Gaara made me anxious for some reason. A thrill to be unseen by the all seeing boy. Time slowly slipped by, and yet I could not get myself back to sleep. I stood up and looked around the moonlit room, eyeing the books with wonder.
Gaara had an interesting mixture of books. Some historical, some biographical, and some even slipping into the fictional category. The spines were worn down as if he had read these books over and over again. I pulled a book out, the title I couldn’t quite make out, opening it slowly and being careful not bend anything in the wrong places. It was a book full of morbid information, demons from across the lands all throughout time, recorded carefully and the horrors ensued documented. Several pages had been scrawled upon with red ink, side notes of potential weaknesses and names of countless victims. I came across a page with an illustration of a two headed beast. His eyes glowed red and a dark liquid appeared to seep from his mouth as he towered over a screaming man. A faint shadow floated above the man, his soul perhaps? The name Hitsuchi was elegantly typed and faded, I skimmed through the sections ignoring parts I had known already about him and old tales that were told to me when I was a child, my finger stopped at a particular point in the book. It was hard to read in the moonlight, but somehow I managed. The section I was reading was sub-titled “The Burning Light Massacre” and it told of that fated night when so many good people were slaughtered. Frowning, I shook my head at the wrong information, considering Hitsuchi came into the village from the north, not the west. The book stated that every body had been placed in a grave site, located directly in the middle of the old village. My eyes turned towards the red script next to it, “only one body uncounted for.” it read elegantly. I smiled faintly, that was me. Not a name, just another dead body among the masses. Sighing, I closed the book and slid it back on the shelf, that was enough of that book tonight.
I continued to scan over the books, mentally marking the ones that held potential interest. I took one of the first ones I had looked at off the shelf and held it in my hands, not quite sure if I was even allowed to read them. I knew Gaara was awake, assuming he wasn’t lying when he told me he didn’t sleep. I stepped out of my room and into the dark silent hallway, the dim lights shown bright from under his door. Hesitantly, I lightly knocked on his door. “Hello?” He asked, sounding almost as confused as I felt.
I opened his door and slipped in, closing the door behind me. His eyes looked me over slowly, his mouth parted open slightly. A sudden blush ran across his cheeks as he turned away from me slightly. “Where are your clothes?” He asked quietly. I looked down at my body, a sudden flush ran through me. I had been so caught up in the books that I completely overlooked my lack of clothing. I wore one of the few pairs of underwear I had been given, rather small and black, with a small baby blue cotton shirt that teased up around my stomach. I grasped at my shirt and pulled it as far down as I could.
“My apologies Gaara.” I scurried out of the door and back into my own room, my face hot as fire itself. How classy, I thought stubbornly. I sunk back into my bed, placing the book next to my side and laying back. A small knock on my door sounded out.
“Are you decent now?” Gaara asked quietly. I said yes with as much dignity as I could muster and watched as he walked towards me with his hands in his pockets. “You seemed as if you wanted to ask me something.” He questioned.
“Oh, uh, yeah I did. I was just wondering if I could read a book of yours that you had in here.” I glanced up at him and picked up the book. “Couldn’t sleep much.” I said flatly. His dark eyes widened in the light and he nodded without saying a word. He sat across from me on the bed and picked up the book in his hands, flipping through the pages.
“This book is good, but it’s not the best I have.” He said finally after closing it. Standing up he walked over to the book shelves, after running his finger down the books he pulled one out. “If you would like to, I recommend reading this one first.” He placed it in my lap and sat back down. Picking it up I fingered through the pages, every couple pages were adorned with a beautiful, intricate illustration. I smiled and flipped the page again. As I turned the page, the paper slid across my finger, leaving a fine cut on my finger.
“Ow.” I said, pulling my finger away from the book. The blood gathered around the cut, making the stinging slightly worse. I looked up at Gaara whose eyes were focused on my small cut. “My luck, huh?” I said sadly. His hands closed around my own, pulling it closer to him. His touch was soft, gentle, and cool. In an instant he took my finger and put it in his mouth, ignoring my small gasp of shock. His mouth was soothingly warm and I could feel his tongue gently sweep over the small cut. His eyes met mine, wide and intent, looking for any negative sign. My face relaxed and a small smile fell across my lips as he took the tip of my finger out of his mouth, looking at it again with a hint of satisfaction on his boyish face. He nodded and placed my hand back on my lap softly, his eyes met mine for a split second before he closed them again. It was a gentle gesture, one a child would do to himself if he had gotten cut, it was almost nurturing in a way. He stood up, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
“Goodnight Ishiko.” He gave a small bow, not once taking his eyes off of me. I nodded back.
“Goodnight Gaara.”