OOC Post
Memoirs of a Shinobi
I once lived a different life in a different world, bearing a different name. I lead a quiet life by the sea, with my fisherman father and loving mother and my beautiful older brother. The four of us were happy together, scraping by on what my mother could earn and what my father caught for the day. My brother and I eagerly helped out when we could. For a time, we were in paradise. But of course, in life, change is the only constant. Like the rolling tides and the unpredictable currents, our lives were swept into disorder one cold fall.
It began with a cough, as though the crisp fall air had caught within Mother's lungs. We were so certain it would pass and that she would be healthy again soon. Time wore on, however, and her condition only worsened. We did everything we could, sold our possessions one by one until we had nothing and no money to pay for her medicine. That night, father threw the fish back into the sea and we all went hungry. He said it was to show us what emptiness was.
The next day, the tide came for us, closing in over our heads, threatening to sweep us away. It came in the form of cargo cart bound for the city, Gatou-san at the reins. This time, we were the cargo. The troubled skies wept openly for us, soaking the rags we had for clothes and chilling our sickly bodies to the bone. It is strange how easily you can see tears running down someone's face even while it rains. Though our faces were wet with the pouring rain, we could see Father's bitter grief slide down his cheeks. My brother held me tightly to his chest as I screamed for home.
"Otousan!" I wept, my small hand grappling for his. He grasped it and held on tightly, holding it in his until the cart began to move and tore us apart. I watched the dim light coming from the windows of our small cottage face into the distance, my father's slouched silhouette breaking my heart.
"Otousan!"
We rode all night, out of the country I had known my entire life, into an unfamiliar city glittering with lit lanterns and candles. The time that passed then was a blur to me, the sights and sounds all melting together as I continued to tremble and cry out of fear. All the while, my sweet brother held me and whispered softly into my ears that everything would be just fine. Mother had always said that my brother was like a sakura tree, deeply rooted and unshakable. I was like water, she used to say, always flowing, always moving, my current adapting to the course laid out to me. And, she would add, when trapped, I would carve my own path.
After a while, we arrived at a large building bearing an insignia of a circular fan. Gatou-san stepped out and helped us off the back of the cart, taking us to the door. He knocked and a young woman came to the door, looking concerned.
"Shh, don't disturb Tsunade-sama!" she hissed, "Are these the fisherman's sons?"
Gatou-san nodded and pushed us both toward the light. The woman peered at us intently, accessing and scrutinizing our every feature. Finally, she pointed to me.
"We'll take the younger one, not the other."
My eyes widened as the woman's hand wrapped around my wrist and jerked me away from my brother. Though he tried to grab for me, Gatou-san took him by the shoulders and held him back.
"Kimimaro!" I whimpered, straining to grasp his hand again, "Oniisan, don't leave me! Kimimaro!"
"Yuki!" he cried back, also reaching for me as Gatou-san wrestled him away. His eyes were panicked beneath the thin veil of silver hair that had fallen over his face. I remember his desperation clearly. I did not want to be alone.
"Kimimaro!"
I once lived a different life in a different world, bearing a different name. I lead a quiet life by the sea, with my fisherman father and loving mother and my beautiful older brother. The four of us were happy together, scraping by on what my mother could earn and what my father caught for the day. My brother and I eagerly helped out when we could. For a time, we were in paradise. But of course, in life, change is the only constant. Like the rolling tides and the unpredictable currents, our lives were swept into disorder one cold fall.
It began with a cough, as though the crisp fall air had caught within Mother's lungs. We were so certain it would pass and that she would be healthy again soon. Time wore on, however, and her condition only worsened. We did everything we could, sold our possessions one by one until we had nothing and no money to pay for her medicine. That night, father threw the fish back into the sea and we all went hungry. He said it was to show us what emptiness was.
The next day, the tide came for us, closing in over our heads, threatening to sweep us away. It came in the form of cargo cart bound for the city, Gatou-san at the reins. This time, we were the cargo. The troubled skies wept openly for us, soaking the rags we had for clothes and chilling our sickly bodies to the bone. It is strange how easily you can see tears running down someone's face even while it rains. Though our faces were wet with the pouring rain, we could see Father's bitter grief slide down his cheeks. My brother held me tightly to his chest as I screamed for home.
"Otousan!" I wept, my small hand grappling for his. He grasped it and held on tightly, holding it in his until the cart began to move and tore us apart. I watched the dim light coming from the windows of our small cottage face into the distance, my father's slouched silhouette breaking my heart.
"Otousan!"
We rode all night, out of the country I had known my entire life, into an unfamiliar city glittering with lit lanterns and candles. The time that passed then was a blur to me, the sights and sounds all melting together as I continued to tremble and cry out of fear. All the while, my sweet brother held me and whispered softly into my ears that everything would be just fine. Mother had always said that my brother was like a sakura tree, deeply rooted and unshakable. I was like water, she used to say, always flowing, always moving, my current adapting to the course laid out to me. And, she would add, when trapped, I would carve my own path.
After a while, we arrived at a large building bearing an insignia of a circular fan. Gatou-san stepped out and helped us off the back of the cart, taking us to the door. He knocked and a young woman came to the door, looking concerned.
"Shh, don't disturb Tsunade-sama!" she hissed, "Are these the fisherman's sons?"
Gatou-san nodded and pushed us both toward the light. The woman peered at us intently, accessing and scrutinizing our every feature. Finally, she pointed to me.
"We'll take the younger one, not the other."
My eyes widened as the woman's hand wrapped around my wrist and jerked me away from my brother. Though he tried to grab for me, Gatou-san took him by the shoulders and held him back.
"Kimimaro!" I whimpered, straining to grasp his hand again, "Oniisan, don't leave me! Kimimaro!"
"Yuki!" he cried back, also reaching for me as Gatou-san wrestled him away. His eyes were panicked beneath the thin veil of silver hair that had fallen over his face. I remember his desperation clearly. I did not want to be alone.
"Kimimaro!"