Sense

Chika cried as hard as her eyes would let her; sometimes the pain was just too much. But today she’d been lucky to receive a black eye; already she could feel the swelling go down. When Chika was younger she had been tempted to go running to Mom with every curse and every blow that the village people had rained down upon her, but Mom wasn’t much help either.

“Why do you complain?” she would ask that dazed look in her eyes. “I feed you you freak. I clothe you. And you have the nerve to speak? The Griffon should have killed you when it possessed you.”

But at least, never once had Chika’s own mother raised a hand to her. And besides, Chika was a big girl! She could take care of herself! She had just turned nine after all. She winced as she brought up one tiny fist, marveling at the now healing pink scratches that adorned her tan knuckles. The Griffon made her heal fast, as always.

“Fancy work there,” a soft voice chirped from behind her and Chika jumped her body immediate tensing for the sure-to-come blow. Instead, what she saw was a pretty woman- twenty three to any adult glancing at the unusual scene of a jinchuriki (as the Eastern people called them. Chika’s village was really on the borderline between an Eastern rock country and the “official” West) and a stranger chatting- looking down at her as if genially interested in her. Chika blinked once, twice, unsure of how to reply. This woman looked nothing like the villagers, like her own Mom: this woman was pale with close cropped, bright orange hair just barely brushing her chin, bright blue eyes, her accent had more of a country twang to it {even more so than her own village) and the strangest clothing Chika had ever seen. Not the sacked dresses the women wore, nor the patched kimonos; she wore knee length black shorts with a simply tank top, the faintest swirl of a scar just barely visible under the left strap. She wore fingerless gloves and elbow pads, a pack tied at her waist.

“Are you a warroir?” Chika gasped, dark brown eyes going wide with awe.

The woman bent down to become eye level with her. “Only if you want me to be short stuff,” she replied with a wink. “So…how did you do that fancy healin’ thing?”

Chika could feel her own face begin to heat up. She ducked away, running her tongue over her split lip, wincing at the pain. “I’m…not human,” she whispered.

The woman raised a neat, orange eyebrow. “Says who?”

“Everyone.”

“Then they just full of shit huh?”

Could this be real? Chika looked up at the woman…no her hero…this time with a wide smile. “Yes! I-I-I’m Chika! Fuyushi Chika! What’s your name?”

“Urameshi Kyoko at your service,” Kyoko replied with a tiny nod of the head as she straightened her back. She placed one hand on her pack and sighed. “Sure don’t look like much huh Chikies?”

CHIKIES? Chika nodded in agreement, her shaggy mop of black hair straying into her eyes. “The people here…they’re mean to me…because I’ve got a creature inside me. A griffon. I’d like to go away…to fly but…”

“-You’re afraid of fallin’ on your ass when you spread your wings?” Kyoko prompted and Chika nodded.

“Where are you going Kyoko-sama?”

For a moment Chika thought she saw a flicker of annoyance in Kyoko-sama’s eyes but just as quickly as she saw it, it was gone. “Don’t call me ‘sama’ kid,” she purred, patting Chika’s head. “I’ve got a plan shortie. I’m gonna change the world, one village at a time. And in order to get it done, I gotta get “dirty” so to speak. I’ll need help though. And judgin’ by the way you’ve been treated, I take it you’d jump at the chance to join me?”

Chika looked up at Kyoko Urameshi. In truth, if Kyoko-sama (it would be ok if she called her ‘sama’ within her head right??) had treated her like the scum everyone acted like she was, then Chika would have run away. But she didn’t. Kyoko-sama had treated her like a human being. A person. And for that, Kyoko-sama would have her loyalty for life, regardless if the duo had to walk through hell and back. “Thank you,” Chika squealed, throwing her arms around Kyoko-sama’s legs. “Thank you.”