I felt rushing cold water envelop me, swallowing me, sucking me under, and twisting me in circles, then propelling me up to the surface--only to gasp a single breath of air.  A gasp and I was under again.

And there was heat, a strange moist heat at his temple that seared through the freezing water that kept swallowing me, a fire where no fire should burn.  There was ice, too; an icelike throbbing in my stomach and my legs and my chest, oddly warmed by the cold water around me.  I felt these things, acknowledging my own panic as I felt them.  I could see my own body turning and twisting, arms and feet working frantically against the pressures of the whirlpool.  I could feel, think, see, perceive panic and struggle--yet strangely there was peace.  It was the calm of the observer, the uninvolved observer, separated from the events, knowing of them but not essentially involved.

Then another form of panic spread through me, surging through the heat and the ice and the uninvolved recognition.  I could not submit to peace!  Not yet!  It would happen any second now; I was not sure what it was, but it would happen.  I had to be there!

I kicked furiously, clawing at the heavy walls of water above, my chest burning.  I broke the surface, thrashing to stay on top of the water.  Climb up! Climb up!

It happened.  The explosion was massive; I could hear it through the clashing waters and the wind, the sight and the sound somehow my doorway to peace.  The sky lit up like a fiery diadem and within that crown of fire, objects of all shapes and sizes were blown through the light into the outer shadows.

We had won.  Whatever it was, we had won.

Suddenly I was plummeting downward again, into an abyss again.  I could feel the rushing waters crash over my shoulders, cooling the white-hot heat at my temple, warming the ice-cold incisions in my stomach and legs and…

My chest.  My chest was in agony!  I had been struck--the blow crushing, the impact sudden and intolerable.  It happened again! Let me alone. Give me peace.

And again!

And I clawed again, and kicked again … until I felt it.  A thick, oily object that moved only with the movements of the sea.  I could not tell what it was, but it was there and I could feel it, hold it.

Hold it!  It will ride you to peace.  To the silence of darkness … and peace.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------



Light slowly appeared before me.  Faint and small at first.  And so far away.  So far.  I reached out with my hand, or at least, I thought it was my hand.  Everything around me was so dark that I couldn't tell what anything else was.  Except for the light.

I must reach it.  Reach it!

My whole body burst into a hot pain that spread throughout my body as I felt myself be opened up into the light.  The heat burned under my skin, under my eyelids.  It was a fever I couldn't sweat out, yet as intense as swallowing the sun.  Tears stung my face as I opened them.  Everything about my body hurt and the more I opened up my eyes, the more aware I became of my body's state.  I could feel the bruises, the swelling, the stitched cuts.  It took me a few hours to get over the pain and reposition myself to be more comfortable in the bed.

What happened to me?

I laid on my hospital bed, holding up the one piece of paper that had brought me to this village. The only thing still left on me. A brief letter from a dead woman, a ninja of this village, that told of why she had chose her life and died for her village.  It was this parchment that I had left my samurai village, my home, and sought out this place in hopes of discovering the amazing village that this woman had written so fondly of.  Sadly, what was written and what I personally discovered were two different things.  One would have thought I had come to the wrong village.  Had it not been for its name being specifically stated on the letter, I would have believed that thought myself, yet it was not so.

What had she seen that had made her be so dedicated?  Certainly not the order that ruled this village.  The Mizukage, though nice in person, had been the root cause of the Seven Bells.  I knew this because it was on everyone’s lips, everyone’s tongues.  The whispers of it filled the air, clung to the wet molecules of mist that clung at people’s shirts and scarves.  Why had she written this letter at all?  I had found it on her dead person anyhow which meant that she had known her time was coming to an end.  Did she feel that someone would come across it and be as inspired as I was?  The letter posed more questions than answers as to why its words were so misleading.

Whatever had this woman seen in such a moldy, soggy pit of a village.  It seemed all of the world’s filth had flowed down the great waters and drifted onto this island.  Kiri had at least brought the worst upon itself just a few months ago when Seven Bells and his army of devoted miscreants decided to turn upon their creators.  The war that had sucked me into it back when I was still blinded by this dead woman’s letter.  This letter had tainted my eyes so much that I had fought alongside the ninja of this village.

Ninja!

My family would have spat upon my feet and cursed the ground that I stood on if they had seen the folly of my ways.  It seemed that fate had decided it was time to step in and struck me down in battle, placing me under it’s spell for months until finally I was awakened from my coma.  Awake and untainted, my eyes were able to see Kirigakure no Sato for the disgusting filth that it was.  The times that I had spent with the ninja of this village were nothing.  They had given me odd looks, studied me as if I was a rare animal that they had captive.  Even during the reconstructing process of the damaged areas of the town, not all of the villagers would lift a finger.  Instead most demanded the ninjas and guards to do the work, blaming them for the destruction and although I had to agree that it was the system that these ninja had created that had brought about the destruction of the village.  Their own sins revisited upon them and I had suffered the consequences of trying to protect them from their own sinful repercussions.

I kicked my legs out from under the bed sheets and hopped off.  The cold, sterile tile chilled me to the bone as I moved around, searching for my clothes to change from the hospital gown they had dressed me in.  Finding the locker in the corner bathroom, I took the moment's privacy I had to quickly get dressed in my clothes before a nurse might come in to stop me.  I needed to get out of here, gather my things and plan my departure.

Hayato glanced over at the set of sky blue scrubs folded neatly in his locker for his use during his regular volunteer service at the Kirigakure hospital, staring at it for a moment and contemplating putting it on before simple deciding to wear his plain clothes. “Eh, they already know who I am at this point,” he mused to himself as he closing the locker and sealing the combination lock, “No need for me to wear those hideous things at this point. I’ll just wear my normal clothes.”

Walking down the hall of the hospital’s emergency ward, Hayato would cross off the names of patients he had already checked up on, coming down to his last patient of the day: Shimazu Naoko. He always left her room for last due to her condition. A person in a coma tended to not need much attention beyond a life support system. The poor girl had been in that condition since the whole Seven Bells ordeal that the village had went through. From her records, she wasn’t even originally from the Village Hidden in the Mist, but someone who had come to join the village of her own volition. Hayato couldn’t even begin to wrap his head around the reasons why someone would willingly bring themselves to this place, but he nonetheless pitied the woman who obviously didn’t know what kind of place she was coming to. Beyond that, when a person is in a coma for months on end, even hospital employees tend to forget about them, seeing them more as a piece of furniture than a patient.

The other patients that were victims of the Seven Bells conflict, being from the village, were not overlooked. Their friends, families, and comrades would show up to visit or at least send them care packages, but Naoko received none of that. No one visited her room while she was in a coma, she received no letters of concern, or even checkups from representatives of the village which she served. Somehow Hayato was not surprised. This was more or less exactly the kind of behavior he expected out of these people at this point. In his own little way, the flowers and get well cards that he brought to Naoko’s room were his way of apologizing on behalf of his home… no, his village. This place would never be a home.

Casually twisting the knob of the door to the patient’s room Hayato would enter like every other day, expecting the sterility and silence he was accustomed to, but instead was greeted by the exposed backside of a woman in a hospital gown. Acting immediately on instinct Hayato would cross his arms over his face, and begin backing out of the room slowly. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to intrude. I should have knocked,” he began before the realization that the patient had woken up from her coma hit him. “Hey wait a minute, you’re awake?” he would call out surprised, his train of thought having shifted, causing him to lower his arms without thinking.

---

519~

I slipped my feet into my loose, cut pants when just as I bent over to pull my pants up to my waist I heard a man's voice call out behind me.  Abruptly the pants pulled up and I snapped around to face the intruder.  Standing by the door was a very tall man with long, dark hair that fell past his shoulders.  He wasn't wearing any hospital gowns or uniforms so it wasn't likely that he worked here.

No one should be in my room.  No one.

My right hand went to grab my katana but only reached into thin air.  I quickly came to the sickening realization that I was unarmed. The whole room felt tense to me and my brain was thinking a mile a minute.  Was this something to do with my waking up?  I shook my head and started to feel a headache coming on.  My sword hand lifted up from where my katana would have been and held my head as I steadied myself.

I managed to regain my composure after a moment and opened my eyes once more to study the stranger.  He looked roughly around my age, maybe older.  It was hard to tell with the throbbing in my head.  My hands went back to their work and tied up my pants at my waist with the red ribbon.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to intrude. I should have knocked,” the man said in a startled tone. I could see him tak a few steps back before dropping his arms once more, his eyes a bit wider in wonder. “Hey wait a minute, you’re awake?”

Suddenly it dawned on me that I was still standing half-naked in front of the man.  "Oh god!" I gasped, bringing about another sharp pain to my temples as my arms crossed over my chest to hide my indecency.  It took me a moment to gather my sleeveless hood, turning my back to the man before slipping it over me.  I made sure I was decent, taking some brown bandages to create a makeshift bandeau.

Looking over myself before facing the man once more, I slowly turned to address him, having completely forgotten about his own exclamation at my being awake.  "Um..." I said, taking a step back, my eyes closed in the sudden rush of the headache.  "Wha- Why are you here?  Who are you?"

A single exclamation from the woman denoted that she had just realized her current clothing situation with Hayato in the room. She would immediately throw her arms up and over her chest, crossing them in front of her to cover up her previously exposed breasts. As she turned away from him to gather the remainder of her clothing and cover herself up, Hayato would also turn to face the wall on the left side of the room, cupping his hand over his the side of his face to create another divider between her and his eyes while she finished dressing. “Sorry again,” he repeated, “If I had known you were dressing I wouldn’t have barged in here like that. In my defense, knocking usually isn’t the most effective tactic against someone in a coma.”

He would wait a few moments, listening to the rustling going on in the room which he could only assume were the sounds of her dressing, and await her cue before removing his hand and facing her once more. That was the plan at least, but the stammering of words and the sound of clunky steps backwards caused him to spin around in concern. Fortunately she was fully dressed this time, but seeing her almost stumbling back and closing her eyes in discomfort was not a good sign for someone who had just come out of a concussion. She was trying too hard too quickly. “Woah, woah, woah,” he began as he hastily moved over to her and placed a hand on the center of her back to provide her some stability until she regained her balance, “You need to get back into the bed. You don’t just wake up from a coma and act like nothing happened. I’ll answer any questions you might have, but I need you to lay back down. My name is Hayato. You’re Naoko, right?”

---

838~

I felt myself falling, as if the ground beneath me had vanished.  Closing my eyes made the sensation all the more real.  The world was escaping me, crumbling around me.  The medical room floated off above me as I fell -- no -- glided down into the dark.  I felt my body turn hot, a fire erupting from behind me.  The heat reached the back of my head first, then spread up through the rest of my body as I plunged head first into the flames.  Just as I felt the flames surround me, a pair of hands took hold of me.  Suddenly the fire and heat were gone.

My body stopped falling and I was back in the hospital.  The man from before was leading me back to the hospital bed. “You need to get back into the bed. You don’t just wake up from a coma and act like nothing happened. I’ll answer any questions you might have, but I need you to lay back down. My name is Hayato. You’re Naoko, right?”  The throbbing pain in my head was subsiding again.  I could feel the heat at the back of my head slowly dying away.  I leaned down on the edge of the bed but refused to lie down.

"I am not so weak that I can't stand up." I said through gritted teeth.  The headache had been intense, but I'd get through it.  "Now why are you in my room?  And where is my stuff?  How come there is only my clothes here?"

I needed to leave this place.  Find some answers for once in my life.  I came to Kiri wondering if the kunoichi's words were true about this place.  Now I was wondering why she had even written those words in the first place.  And now I had suffered a wound.  My eyes dilated as the realization of the wound's severity.  A coma?!

"How long have I been out?!" I said, almost too loudly as I grabbed at the man's collar.  What had he said his name was?  Hayato.  My eyes fixated on his.  Maybe I shouldn't be so forthcoming to him.  Can't tell anyone about my plans to leave.

Naoko allowed herself to lean against the edge of her bed, but propped herself up defiantly, refusing to lay back down as Hayato had instructed. He would run the fingers of his right hand up his forehead and back through his hair as he let out a frustrated sigh at the woman’s stubbornness. He would remove his hands from her now that she at least had the bed to use as support for herself as she stood and instead fold his arms in front of himself. Obviously she did not appreciate the severity of the condition she was in and the dangers of trying to rush through it before her body had recovered. His eyes narrowed and his facial expression turned to one akin to a disapproving father as she grabbed hold of his collar and continued with her line of questioning.

He did not however, make any effort to remove her hand from his collar. If this was what she felt she needed to do to help herself settle down, so be it. “No one said anything about you being weak,” Hayato answered calmly, “The fact that you’re moving around as well as you are right now is a testament to your strength. But I’m afraid that continuing as you are now will only prove detrimental to yourself in the long run. There must be a lot going through your mind right now. I would imagine that a situation like this could be quite jarring. You have questions. I have answers. I’m willing to share those answers, but I need you to do something for me in return; lay down and rest. No one else should be coming in here anytime soon. I’ll answer any questions you might have and then we’ll see about getting a doctor in here to make sure that you’re okay. Do this for me and I’ll help you with what you want to do. Fair enough?”

---

1168~

My head was still reeling from the movement, though much less so now that I was supported by the bed.  Having tried to get answers out of Hayato proved fruitless.  The man was about as stubborn as I was.  I wouldn't be getting any answers from him until he saw fit that I was in bed.

Why does he care?  He's not my doctor and I don't need charity, especially from a ninja of this village.

Still, we were at a stalemate until one of us budged.  Seeing that laying down might help ease my head pain, I obliged Hayato's wishes.  I rested my head against the tough, hospital pillow and looked up to the man.  My nerves began to falter and I couldn't look straight at Hayato for very long.  My hands fiddled with the cotton sheets nervously, not knowing what to do.  I looked around the room, at the cabinets, the overhanging lights, the window, and back again to Hayato.  Readjusting myself in the bed didn't help at all, only feeling too vulnerable useless.

Finally I gave up on making myself comfortable and just stared at the ceiling.  The pain did seem to die off now that I was still.  I gritted my teeth again, knowing that Hayato had been right.  He'd never hear me say it though.  "You satisfied?" I asked him, flicking my head away from the ceiling and facing Hayato, my eyes glaring at him.  "Now where are my answers, hm?"

It was just like a typical man, having to get his way in everything.  I'd play along until he left.  There was definitely no getting around him.  Resting like this would only help me gather strength for when I would eventually break out of here.  I'd have to keep my guard up and make sure he didn't try anything to get me to stay in here.  This was already more time than I wanted to spend in this room.  I needed out, I needed to leave this place, and I needed my weapons back.

Yet I didn't need to be so harsh on the guy. He seemed genuine enough so far. Was it really right of me to be so angry to one man? Sure, Kirigakure no Sato was a stark contrast from the village the dead Kiri-nin had written about in her dying letter, but that didn't mean I had to take my frustration out on him. Not that this meant I should give the village another chance.

No, they were beyond getting another chance. They needed help, but I wasn't sure they deserved it. Hayato, however, was nice enough for the moment and deserved some kindness back. My eyes relaxed from their stern glare and I returned my focus to the ceiling. I let out a deep breath and awaited the answers to my questions.

Hayato rolled his eyes at the woman’s defiance even as she was cooperating with what he wanted. He really didn’t see the big deal about him cautioning her about the health risks of her situation, but since she at least agreed to lay down he supposed that was good enough. He would take a seat at her bedside and adjust an errant flower in the vase he had left for her during his last visit. The flowers were beginning to die, making him leave a mental note to himself to exchange them only to be reminded that not that she was awake it likely wouldn’t be necessary.

“Well, you kept up your end of the agreement, I suppose,” he said calmly as he turned to face the bed, “It’s only fair that I talk now. Yes, you’ve been in a coma. Apparently you sustained an injury to the head during the Seven Bells conflict. The injury didn’t appear to be life threatening, but for one reason or another you wouldn’t wake up. You were out for three months. Your weapons were confiscated upon your admission to the hospital and are now being kept to be returned upon checkout. Despite this village’s behavior, the hospital at least has some sense of propriety. We can’t just have armed patients running around with blades, for obvious reasons. They will be returned to you when you’re examined and cleared to leave, I assure you.”

“As for me,” he continued in an apologetic tone, “I’m a shinobi of this village, although I’m not particularly proud to make that claim. It was after the Seven Bells conflict that I began volunteering at the hospital which was overburdened with all of the wounded. You were the first to come in on my first shift here. I took a special interest in your file, it intrigued me. You are not originally from this village and yet you raised your sword in defense of the Hidden Mist Village. Why? You weren’t a sell sword. The villages records on you have you as a voluntary participant, but you laid there in a coma for the mistakes of these people. What’s worse, because you weren’t an actual member of this village, I found that you were often looked over by some of the hospital’s staff. That’s why I continued to volunteer, even months after the Seven Bells conflict. My village was unworthy of your aid and continued to wrong you even after you shed blood in its name. I thought the least I could do was make sure you were taken care of in return.  I apologize if you don’t like the flowers. I couldn’t exactly ask you what your favorite kind was and that’s not something this village would keep on file. Now, as promised, feel free to ask anything you wish. I’ll do my best to answer your questions. Three months is a long time, I’m sure you have plenty to catch up on.”

---

1685~

I laid there, listening as he continued on. There was so much to be said.  Had I really asked so much?  For some reason, I never expected the answers to be like this.  Especially the three months being in a coma.  That was enough to make me bolt up and look at Hayato, though the sudden motion didn't help at all and I soon crashed back down into the pillow.

Whatever blow had come to my head had really done a number on me.  When I tried to think back to what may have caused it, my head began to hurt.  All I could remember was a big blur and before that was just me getting up out of bed after hearing explosions outside.  The more I tried to think about it, the more my head would hurt and my face scrunch up in pain.  So, I gave up, hoping soon the memories would come back to me.

Hayato was still talking, now having explained why my weapons were being kept from me.  Still, I'd have to be examined and cleared to leave.  That might take another day or two, or more if they didn't think I was ready to leave.  I definitely did not want to stay in here longer than I had to.  A day more at the most, but that was pushing it.  Even after the man glorified himself for being the only one of his village to take interest in me and sent me flowers, I only wanted to remove myself of the area.

Then I had to calm down, taking a moment to let off some steam and hate with long, deep breaths.  Hayato was not his village and so I couldn't put all the hate onto him, or any one person.  And now he asked me why I got so involved with the Hidden Mist.  His question ringing through the air.

“Why?"

I bit my tongue, held myself back from answering and let Hayato finish speaking.  Did he deserve the truth?  Sure, he'd taken care over me, taken special interest in me while I was in a coma. All of what he did, even the flowers he sent me, didn't make him someone I could trust.  And then I heard him condemn his village as unworthy of my help.

At first I scoffed at the comment, thinking what he'd said as a bit of an understatement.  The Hidden Mist was far more unworthy of anyone's help, much less my own.  Then I mulled it over in my head.  He at least understood the village wasn't worthy.  Could he really...?

I had to be sure.  "I apologize for being so stubborn, but thank you for getting me to lie down."  I slowly moved my elbows back for support as I slid myself up against the hospital bed.  "The flowers are a nice touch, and as to why I helped the village, joined it's ranks among you ninja..."  My voice trailed off, my throat became dry.  I had to gulp away some fear as I pushed for the question.  "What did you mean about the village being unworthy of my help and of my joining it?"

I was careful to not let my own thoughts show.  Hayato was now a much more interesting person.  He could very well be just the ninja I needed to get out of this village alive.  Still, I tried to keep myself from showing any eagerness.  I didn't want to give anything away in hopes of getting an honest answer from the man.

“I’d probably get myself into trouble if people were to overhear me saying that, you know,” Hayato began calmly, glancing over towards the room’s closed door, before taking his time in continuing, “The people of this village are many things. Tolerant and accepting of dissenting opinions are not on that list of applicable terms. It wouldn’t be the first time that violence had befallen a member of this village that swam against the current. There are those in the Village Hidden in the Mist, especially in the higher echelons of the village’s political landscape, that hold tightly to the name ’Blood Mist Village’ and make sure to keep that name alive. I suppose it would be unfair to simply place so much blame on this village as if they weren’t born into an environment that progenates people like that. The shinobi world as a whole is filled with dishonorable and detestable people. They blight this world.”

Hayato would raise himself up from his seat moving over to the hospital window which boasted a view over most of the village. From that room he could even see the kage’s office. “It all starts there,” he said ominously, paying no mind to the fact that she would now know where he was talking about, “Kirigakure has a history of terrible leadership with terrible policies and even worse accountability. Our current kage is no exception. Her first act as kage was to demolish a prison… with all of its prisoners still inside. She thought it some sort of justice. She setenced hundreds of people who had already been tried and judged to death. No retrial, no mercy. It wasn’t justice, it was slaughter. Her list of crimes has only grown longer since she took office, the most recent of which was the Seven Bells Conflict, but I don’t think I need to explain what that was about to you. And after all of that, people like you who fought and bled on behalf of this village were left with nothing. A few of them received a stupid medal, as if that meant something outside of these walls.”

---

2047~

"I see,"  My hopes were assured.  He didn't seem to be lying to me or putting up a face.  I didn't think he yet understood my own feelings about the village myself.  After hearing how he felt about this place, I felt safer to speak my own mind.

"Don't worry, I won't say anything against you for speaking your mind.  In fact, I share similar feelings to this place.  It's true that I fought alongside ninja of the Hidden Mist during the Seven Bells attack.  Though it was through that experience that I questioned what about this place I had first seen."

I shifted again in my bed, looking away from Hayato and the window.  The tiles of the floor seemed gray and clouded.  My hand found its way to the letter of the dead Hidden Mist woman that I had found years ago.  This was the reason I had come here.  This parchment of lies.  I fought myself from crinkling it, taking it out from under the covers of my bed and holding it up to Hayato.

"In truth, this was what brought me to join in your village's ranks.  It was the words of a woman that I had thought this village worthy of my help."

I felt ashamed, that such a simple little letter would bring me to joining the village.  That simple words were enough to blind me of the lack of compassion, grace, and honor of the village's population.  I waited until he took the piece of parchment from my hands.

When he would read it, I would read it again in my head.  Knowing every last word of the dying woman's letter.  It read like so,
"To you who holds this letter, I write to you.

As this letter will only be used after my death, it may seem somewhat a macabre document, but I do not want you to look at it in that way.  I have always had a feeling that our stay on earth, that thing which we call 'Life', is but a transitory stage in our development, and that the dreaded monosyllable 'Death' ought not to indicate anything to be feared.  I have had my fling and must now pass on to the next stage, the consummation of all earthly experience.  So don't worry about me, I will be all right.

I would like to pay tribute to the courage which my village and my comrades have shown, and will continue to show, in these tragic times.  It is easy to meet an enemy face to face, and to laugh him to scorn, but the unseen enemies unseen Hardship, Anxiety, and Despair are a very different problem.  The Hidden Mist have held themselves together as a family as few else could have done, and I take a bow to you, my village and my home.

Now for a bit about myself.  You should know that I hated the idea of War, and that hate will remain with me forever.  What has kept me going is the spiritual force to be derived from what we call 'Chakra', its reflections to my own feelings, and the power it has to uplift a soul above earthly things.  Now I am off to the source of Chakra, and can fulfill the vague longings of my soul in becoming part of the fountain whence all good comes.  I have no belief in a personal God, but I do most strongly in a spiritual force which was the source of our being, and which will be our ultimate goal.  If there is anything worth fighting for, it is the right our own paths to this goal and to prevent our children from having their souls sterilized by another man's doctrines.  The most horrible thing about this War which we fight, is that it is of shadows and darkness.  That our children may never know its existence is why I have been fighting.

All I can do now is voice my faith that this war will end in Victory, and that you will have many years before you in which to resume normal, civil life.  Good luck to you!"

At the bottom of the page, Hayato would no doubt see the brown stain of very old, dried blood as the only signature to this letter.  "I had found that a few years ago, during my Trials as a Samurai of my clan.  She had worn the hitai-ate that I now wear in her stead as well as wielding the rusted sword that had been left at her side."

My eyes had already begun to tear up.  It was all I could do to keep those drops of sadness from falling.  Oh, how I had wanted those words to ring true with every step I took deeper into this village.  How stupid was I to find the very opposite?  The letter was old, no doubt from before this new Mizukage that Hayato seemed to despise.  Or maybe this letter was false, written by a kunoichi blinded by her own village to not see the truth that I had come to witness.

I kept my eyes focused on the gray tiles.  My will and determination to keep the tears from flowing only failing.  The dam had broken.  A single tear sliding down my cheek as the first sign of more to come.

“I see,” Hayato muttered in a hushed tone as he folded the letter she had handed him once more, placing it on the stand beside her bed, “If I may ask, what exactly about that letter made you want to come here? Is it the notion of the village being a family that she wrote that inspired you to join the ranks of the Village Hidden in the Mist? I don’t know what the circumstances were surrounding you stumbling upon this letter or choosing to leave behind your home to come here, but one thing is for certain; this is not the village she spoke of or that you were looking for. There is no underlying sense of familial unity here, nor a warm hearth to give a place one to call home. This village is as cold and uncaring as the darkest, most desolate cave you would ever dream to encounter. The people that live here are even more so.”

He would let out a soft sigh before making his way to the side of her bed. She had turned to face away from him before showing him the letter, but simply turning away did not hide the distinct change in her behavior. Was she crying? He wondered for a moment if he should say something to try and console her, but decided against breaking the silence between them himself. There are times that what a hurt person needs is not someone trying to fix all of their problems, but simply someone to listen and be there. And sometimes, sweet words only made wounds sting more. Without saying another word Hayato would pull up a char right beside her bed and simply place a hand onto her shoulder, leaving it there until she would turn to face him of her own volition.

---

2351~

I didn't need to answer him and his questions. He had hit the nail on the head as it were, with the reasons for my being here. I took the letter back, wiping away the tear that had fallen. "You see, this letter was the very thing that brought me to this place. And now it's what makes me want to leave. That is why I don't want to be in here in this room, this village, for any second longer than I have to."

I turned to face Hayato, his hand still resting on my shoulder. The warmth and feel of his palm reassured me, made me lower my existing barriers that I had kept up until now. He could be trusted. I knew that now. All that was left was for me to ask him. Ask for help.

"Please, you have to let me out of here. Let me leave. You said yourself that no one else really seems to notice me. If you could help me, I'd be indebted to you."

There. I had asked him. In the time that we had spent talking, I felt stronger and more sure-footed. It would take a lot more movement to mess with me. Still, I doubt I would be able to fight him off so easily in my current condition. Maybe get out of the room, but out of the hospital? No, I'd need help to leave the hospital, to get my things back. And it wasn't like I could just leave the village tonight altogether. I had to pack my clothes, pack food. Then there was the matter of where I would be going to. So much was yet to be planned. I wasn't ready, but one thing was sure in my mind. I would not stay in this hospital another night.

A lot was riding on Hayato's answer. I looked straight into his eyes. Those grayish blue eyes of his, as calm as the clouds in the sky. Would they only show compassion to me, that my hopes of getting out safely would be attained. Surely he would see that leaving was the best thing for me. Surely he would help me.

Surely.

Hayato sympathized with her desire to leave the village, so he was moved when she pleaded with him to help her get out of the hospital, but he was still mindful or her condition. As such, even with all the sympathy in his eyes he still had to respond to her request with a slight shake of his head. “I understand you wanting to leave the village, I really do,” he began speaking honestly in hopes that she might understand, “This is not your home. You owe this village no loyalty and what you came searching for you did not find. But I can’t simply allow you to leave as you are now. You were in a coma for three months after a head injury. One doesn’t simply wake up and instantly be one hundred percent of what they were. For your health I can’t help you outside of those gates until you’ve recovered some.”

Stopping to look around the hospital room Hayato would frown. This village was gloomy enough without being caged up in a hospital bed against one’s will. “You’re a Shimazu, are you not?” he began curiously, recalling her name from her patient profile, “I might be off in my clan recognition, but I think I’ve heard that surname before. You’re from a samurai clan, aren’t you? If I’m correct in my assumption than that means that you are obliged to follow the code of Bushido. Because of that I can make you an offer that I would be hesitant to make to a shinobi. Let’s make a deal. I’ll get you out of the hospital. Get you your belongings back, get you healed, back on your feet, and help you prepare for your journey out of the village. In exchange, you will stay at my home and on your honor swear not to take off before you’ve recovered. If by one month from today I still have not given you the green light to travel than I will escort you out of the village myself.”

The stern expression on his face would fade to a soft smile as he extended a hand out to her to shake on the deal. “I told you before that I took charge of looking over you while you were in the coma,” he continued, “I intended to see you back to good health. Just because you’re not in a coma anymore doesn’t mean that I’m no longer responsible. So how about it?”

---

2779~

At first, as he spoke I felt that he would not be the one to help get me out of here. He backtracked to my condition, which on paper probably seemed major, but to me, it felt like a very subjective thing. I felt fine, and the doctor's wouldn't say I was fine until they deemed it so.

Though my hopes soon changed as he continued on, picking up on my clan's name. I only nodded yes to his question of my being a part of the Samurai and my following of Bushido. His words began to reinstall hope. He would help me get out, if only on his terms. His terms, which by the way weren't even that bad. Prior to this, my apartment had been taken away from me and I had been living from a hotel, night by night. Now, after being three months in a coma it was a sure thing that I no longer had even that hotel room to go back to. He was offering me a place to stay.

I smiled at the man's own stubbornness to still watch over me even outside of the hospital. He was a good man. I could tell that already. Nodding, I agreed to his demands. "I swear on my honor. I'll do as you have said."

Agreeing on the statement, I lifted the bedsheets off of me and swung my feet out from the bed. Slowly, I edged myself off the bed, letting my feet ease onto the cold tiles as I stood. The last time I had tried moving hadn't worked out so well. Now, I needed to prove that I was strong enough to get out of here. I slowly inched closer to the door. Already dressed now, there wouldn't be as much of a fuss over me leaving than if I was still wearing the hospital gown, so that was a plus. The rest of my stuff was held somewhere and that was all there was to get before leaving.

"Well, I'm ready if you are." My eyes were stinging a bit from his kindness. The only time I had ever witnessed such an act from someone within this village. At least they weren't all bad, I thought to myself.

A feeling of relief swept over him as she agreed to his terms, solving at least one of the problems that could have arisen with him helping her leave the village. He was going on a bit of faith here, trusting her to hold true to her word, but it wasn’t like there were a ton of alternatives other than simply leaving her there in the hospital and hoping the staff did its job. If he could have trusted them to do that however, he wouldn’t have had to be making a proposal like this in the first place. He smiled and nodded in affirmation of the agreement they had come to, watching her slowly get up from the hospital bed and onto her feet. He would rush over to her location and stand by to support her if at any point her strength faltered, “Yeah, let’s get you out of here. It’s been a while since you’ve seen the outside world. We just have to make one quick stop.”

He would lead her downstairs through the hospital, opting to take a seldom used flight of stairs in the west wing of the building that would lead them down towards the holding area for patients’ possessions. Because the only time anyone ever really used the stairwell was when janitors cleaned it at night, they would be able to take as long as Naoko needed to get down to ground level in her condition. At the ground floor they would encounter two doors; one an exit through the back of the hospital and one leading back inside, near the storage area for patients’ property. “Wait here while I go get your things,” he said before slipping back into the hospital and into the authorized personel area. He had been there before during his time as a volunteer and was familiar with their organizing system. It would only take him a minute or two to locate the bin with her name on it. Wasting no time he would grab all of her gear and slip back out into the stairwell, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her along with him laughing, “Stop standing around, I thought you wanted to get out of here.”

---

3156~

Hayato led me through the hospital, staying with me as I fumbled through the halls. I made it quite far without a hiccup, but when the dizziness came I really struggled. He had been there to help me the whole way. And then the stairs came. I was so light headed, I almost believed he may have been right about staying in the hospital but I still fought on. I took the stairs one step at a time. Taking them so slowly, I would get mad at myself for being so dizzy that I took the stairs like an old lady.

This was not showing strength in front of Hayato. Sure, I was just out of a coma, but I still did not like showing weakness. So I soldiered on until we got to the ground floor. Hayato had me wait by the exit door while he went to gather my gear. I let myself rest for the short amount of time he had left me there. My head spinning so much that I did not even think of worrying about someone coming into the stairway and finding me there.

It was not long before he came back with my gear, making a joke of me as I leaned against the wall. I obviously looked tired, but this time he still helped me outside. And together we trudged through the open streets of the Village Hidden in the Mist until we came upon his house. There I would rest, thanks to him, and recover as promised. I passed out at his place from exhaustion, only one thought before everything went black.

Why had it taken all this to finally find a good soul in this village?