Numb
six
Present Day
The heaviness that pressed down on my shoulders wasn’t something that I had ever felt before. Loneliness, I had reasoned at first, burying myself beneath the blanket that they had given me with tears welling in my eyes. But lonely didn’t cover the lack of emotion that I felt, as though everything that I had inside of me had been taken out and I was just a hollow shell of a person. I couldn’t bring myself to eat, thinking of the times that my brother had given me his food so that I wouldn’t be hungry; I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing things that I had thought that I had pushed to the back of my mind—blood, flames, dark walls that came in closer with every breath that I took.
The Hokage had assigned a Jounin named Anko to evaluate my skills, to document my movements and to then report back to her with what she had gathered. The results had been discouraging, and I knew it. Without food, I was weak, frail. Without sleep, I was liable to collapse, as I had on several occasions. They had taken me to the hospital in Konoha, unsurprised when they found that nothing was wrong with me. Lack of the essentials, the medic nin had told them. Food, water, sleep. “You know, m’lady,” Anko had said one day, while my eyes were closed in the hospital bed and they thought that I was sleeping, “perhaps what we have heard about the Sahto clan was just legend. She’s just a child, after all.”
Just a child. I had been a child when I left the village for the first time, innocent and oblivious, but my childhood had ended there, cut short by several years. From that point on, I wasn’t anything but a nomad, a rogue, a stupid little girl with a lot on her plate. Nothing close to being a child. We had both grown up within the first few months, Shinobu and I, when we realized that surviving on our own was more than finding berries and clean drinking water. Our pace never slowed as we moved from village to village, season to season. Months had passed before we decided not to think about Baba ever finding us; years had passed before I ever felt the same sort of stupid happiness that I had as a child. Even that happiness had been diminished once we reached our village. And after that…
“Sahto, please just try.” The Hokage stood a few feet away from me, her eyes narrowed at me. “I know what you’re capable of. You’ve just…please. If you don’t do anything else, we’ll be forced to let you go—and you’ll be happy to know that there are Hunter-Nin waiting just outside the city for you. The Mizukage wants your blood to be spilled within the next month.” She crossed her arms over her stomach and stepped back. “Now. Show me what you can do.”
I stared at the ninja standing in front of me with half-closed eyes. He was taller than I was, with purple lines painted onto his face, the rest of his body concealed by black robes, and he was wearing a smirk that bothered me. It reminded me of the look that Shinobu used to get when he beat me at something, whether it was in one of our practices or if it was a game of cards; I had always hated being looked down on. That, at the very least, hadn’t changed at all.
Bringing my attention back to the Hokage, I was surprised to find that she was staring back at me. I cut my eyes toward the boy, who raised his eyebrows, and nodded, slowly, to myself. I could try. My hands were steady before me, one balled into a fist and the other held out in my usual stance, my feet set firmly on the grass. In my head, I reviewed chakra gates and thought of the lessons I had learned in the forests outside of Konoha as a younger, less experienced ninja. The boy pulled the three scrolls off his back and began a jutsu—I took my opportunity and charged toward him, catching him by surprise. Whatever those scrolls were for had to be powerful; if I kept him from performing his jutsu, I would be in the clear.
I had him pinned to the ground in minutes. My hand rested just above his heart, the other holding a kunai to his throat. Sweat dripped down his face and smeared the paint that he had been wearing, telling me that he wasn’t used to hand-to-hand combat. It was my specialty. The Sahto clan, as I assumed the Hokage knew, wasn’t particularly gifted in ninjustu or genjutsu. There were several water jutsu that I had learned in my time in the Village Hidden in the Mist more recently, but there weren’t many times when water was close enough that I could use them. I relied heavily on chakra, both mine and the opponents. And in this case, I had won because he wasn’t used to my fighting style. A lucky break.
“Nicely done,” the Hokage said quietly from behind me, walking briskly toward us. “Sahto, let him up.”
I moved away from him and offered a hand, which he took.
“Damn,” he muttered, and adjusted the hat that he was wearing so that it was straight once more. “You’re good, I will admit. You have to be careful though…” He snuck me a sideways glance with a small, sly smile. “I could totally see up your shorts when you were standing over me.”
My eyes widened, my cheeks burning as a blush crept up my neck. “Thank you for fighting me,” I managed, keeping my eyes on the ground until he had walked far enough into the trees that I couldn’t hear his foot steps.
“Kankuro was right, Mei,” the Hokage said, folding her arms behind her back. “You’re very good. You fight like most Sahto do—straight to the point, nothing fancy about it. I like it. You must have learned a lot while you were traveling, am I right?” When I didn’t respond, she continued, “I think that’s enough for today, anyway. I’m going to send a letter to the Mizukage. You’re mine now.”
The heaviness that pressed down on my shoulders wasn’t something that I had ever felt before. Loneliness, I had reasoned at first, burying myself beneath the blanket that they had given me with tears welling in my eyes. But lonely didn’t cover the lack of emotion that I felt, as though everything that I had inside of me had been taken out and I was just a hollow shell of a person. I couldn’t bring myself to eat, thinking of the times that my brother had given me his food so that I wouldn’t be hungry; I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing things that I had thought that I had pushed to the back of my mind—blood, flames, dark walls that came in closer with every breath that I took.
The Hokage had assigned a Jounin named Anko to evaluate my skills, to document my movements and to then report back to her with what she had gathered. The results had been discouraging, and I knew it. Without food, I was weak, frail. Without sleep, I was liable to collapse, as I had on several occasions. They had taken me to the hospital in Konoha, unsurprised when they found that nothing was wrong with me. Lack of the essentials, the medic nin had told them. Food, water, sleep. “You know, m’lady,” Anko had said one day, while my eyes were closed in the hospital bed and they thought that I was sleeping, “perhaps what we have heard about the Sahto clan was just legend. She’s just a child, after all.”
Just a child. I had been a child when I left the village for the first time, innocent and oblivious, but my childhood had ended there, cut short by several years. From that point on, I wasn’t anything but a nomad, a rogue, a stupid little girl with a lot on her plate. Nothing close to being a child. We had both grown up within the first few months, Shinobu and I, when we realized that surviving on our own was more than finding berries and clean drinking water. Our pace never slowed as we moved from village to village, season to season. Months had passed before we decided not to think about Baba ever finding us; years had passed before I ever felt the same sort of stupid happiness that I had as a child. Even that happiness had been diminished once we reached our village. And after that…
“Sahto, please just try.” The Hokage stood a few feet away from me, her eyes narrowed at me. “I know what you’re capable of. You’ve just…please. If you don’t do anything else, we’ll be forced to let you go—and you’ll be happy to know that there are Hunter-Nin waiting just outside the city for you. The Mizukage wants your blood to be spilled within the next month.” She crossed her arms over her stomach and stepped back. “Now. Show me what you can do.”
I stared at the ninja standing in front of me with half-closed eyes. He was taller than I was, with purple lines painted onto his face, the rest of his body concealed by black robes, and he was wearing a smirk that bothered me. It reminded me of the look that Shinobu used to get when he beat me at something, whether it was in one of our practices or if it was a game of cards; I had always hated being looked down on. That, at the very least, hadn’t changed at all.
Bringing my attention back to the Hokage, I was surprised to find that she was staring back at me. I cut my eyes toward the boy, who raised his eyebrows, and nodded, slowly, to myself. I could try. My hands were steady before me, one balled into a fist and the other held out in my usual stance, my feet set firmly on the grass. In my head, I reviewed chakra gates and thought of the lessons I had learned in the forests outside of Konoha as a younger, less experienced ninja. The boy pulled the three scrolls off his back and began a jutsu—I took my opportunity and charged toward him, catching him by surprise. Whatever those scrolls were for had to be powerful; if I kept him from performing his jutsu, I would be in the clear.
I had him pinned to the ground in minutes. My hand rested just above his heart, the other holding a kunai to his throat. Sweat dripped down his face and smeared the paint that he had been wearing, telling me that he wasn’t used to hand-to-hand combat. It was my specialty. The Sahto clan, as I assumed the Hokage knew, wasn’t particularly gifted in ninjustu or genjutsu. There were several water jutsu that I had learned in my time in the Village Hidden in the Mist more recently, but there weren’t many times when water was close enough that I could use them. I relied heavily on chakra, both mine and the opponents. And in this case, I had won because he wasn’t used to my fighting style. A lucky break.
“Nicely done,” the Hokage said quietly from behind me, walking briskly toward us. “Sahto, let him up.”
I moved away from him and offered a hand, which he took.
“Damn,” he muttered, and adjusted the hat that he was wearing so that it was straight once more. “You’re good, I will admit. You have to be careful though…” He snuck me a sideways glance with a small, sly smile. “I could totally see up your shorts when you were standing over me.”
My eyes widened, my cheeks burning as a blush crept up my neck. “Thank you for fighting me,” I managed, keeping my eyes on the ground until he had walked far enough into the trees that I couldn’t hear his foot steps.
“Kankuro was right, Mei,” the Hokage said, folding her arms behind her back. “You’re very good. You fight like most Sahto do—straight to the point, nothing fancy about it. I like it. You must have learned a lot while you were traveling, am I right?” When I didn’t respond, she continued, “I think that’s enough for today, anyway. I’m going to send a letter to the Mizukage. You’re mine now.”
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it's latecomments/criticisms?