The moment she realized her life was in danger she ran. It was cowardly, but Anomie wasn't one to fight and she wasn't one to die. But cowardice didn't matter when the world's view is through the kaleidoscope of a courtesan.
Kakashi/OC
Story feature...
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WHEN I WAS SIX, THERE WERE SO MANY MOMENTS THAT I WANTED TO DIE, BUT EVEN then, death was reluctant to take me. I thought I was going to die. I was rendered unconscious in this abysmal nothingness, surrounded by the black walls, burning around me. The shōji doors were red with the flames as the flower petals erupted in red.
It had been so long since I tried to fight back the smoke from filling my lungs. Ever since I mastered the Iburi bloodline, smoke and fire and stopped effecting me as all I ever had to do was turn these weak lungs and rotting skin into smoke.
Never before had I been so useless in the only ability I had been good at and no matter how hard I tried, my body would not listen. Very simply, I could not move and I could not regulate my Chakra.
"You stupid bitch," the voice was oddly familiar and through the burning shōji doors I saw the form of a woman. She was beautiful, dressed in a fine pink kimono that was ripped to shreds around her body. Her black hair was loose from the pins that kept them contained and on top of her was a ninja, a Shinobi from Kumo.
With that dread I felt my lungs shake more than the smoke could ever make them quiver.
"Kumo has taken everything from me..." Ohashi's voice was weak as the ninja's hands gripped around her throat. "You will not take the Land of Fire too...no matter what the council has decided."
"You are nothing more than a whore," the Shinobi's voice was cold and I could see my own body, white hair and silk kimono tattered with blood dripping from my shoulder. Ohashi likely would have gotten me killed that night.
"And you're nothing more than a coward, wounded by a whore," Ohashi had always been strong, even after the loss of her child and the rape.
If I had been given more time with her, maybe some events would have turned out different.
I watched the flashback, for the memory was a cold remainder of the worst night of my life. A part of me wanted to say that the night Rin died was the worst, but it hadn't been. It was the cold nights alone that came after that were worse than her actual death. It was the memory of her smile or the haunting echo of her laughter.
But Ohashi's death and the night I was raped until I was dripping with blood among other things. That was worse.
I watched my past self stagger up, unnoticed by the ninja who had began to rape Ohashi's slowly dying body. That girl who was no longer me slammed a glass teapot against his head so hard that it shattered upon impact.
