The Heart Remembers

Cold

Mitsuki moved fluidly through the darkness: swift, silent, deadly. The other members of his unit held back. None of them liked to get too close. He was efficient and merciless in his work so his ANBU comrades were content with letting him do the 'heavy lifting' on missions. Not that he cared. He favored working alone, so if his team preferred to pretend they weren't there, it was fine by him.

His parent had gifted him to the eighth Hokage as a kind of 'guardian assassin', charging him with the protection of the Leaf Village and he had served them both faithfully for almost a year. None who saw him survived. All that the Lady Sarada deemed a threat were exterminated. She was almost always pleased with his reports but the way she looked at him was different from how the others did. He had discussed it with his parent and they had named the look 'pity'. It was curious but he didn't really care that much. If his mistress wanted to be sad, then that was her business. He, however, rarely felt anything.

There were only a few things that allowed emotions to penetrate his numbness. The first was the Moon. He hated the moon. He didn't know why, he just couldn't stand it. He hated it so much he had requested a room with no windows, a request that had been honored without question. Second was the missions. Sometimes, images would flash through his mind. He didn't recognize what they were but they sent him into a rage. His vision would cloud over with red and his blood-lust wouldn't be sated until all of his targets were eliminated, his unit cowering until it had all passed. It was at those times he got the feeling that he would kill even if his parent hadn't told him it was necessary. He felt driven by something else, a painful feeling he couldn't define.

He was sure these episodes of rage were the reason his team hardly spoke to him. When he was near, they were apprehensive. When they thought he wasn't there, he often overheard them describing him as "cold-blooded" or "monster". It didn't bother him, though. What others thought about him was none of his business.

If he were honest, he preferred the apathy to the other emotions but he even favored the spells of rage over what came at night.

He had no memory of his life before a year ago. Most of the time he assumed there was nothing before then. He was simply 'born' as he was, a weapon destined to be gifted to his parent's old home. But sometimes, the night made him wonder. Sometimes he dreamed and in those dreams, the moon was full and he was afraid. He was running through darkness, hurrying towards an orange glow. He had to get there, he had to move faster or something terrible was going to happen. He was calling a name with all he had, yelling it so hard his throat felt like it was tearing apart but he couldn't hear his own voice nor could he remember the name. He was never sure what happened but the end was always the same. There were flashes of blue and gold drenched in red and the crushing feeling of anguish and the bitterness of loss. The sound of his own screams would pull him back to consciousness where he shivered in a cold sweat waiting for the dawn.

Once and only once he had talked to his parent about the nightmares. They had looked at him long and hard before answering, like they were carefully considering what to tell him. Eventually, they said it was common to dream and he shouldn't pay them any mind. They assured that given time, they would eventually pass on their own.

They hadn't. The frequency had increased to the point that he had the nightmare almost nightly but he didn't bring it up again with his parent. If they didn't want to tell him why he was having these nightmares then there was no point in asking. Instead, Mitsuki accepted them as part of his existence; An existence where the days were soaked with blood and nights haunted with the shine of gold.

Such was the rhythm of Mitsuki's world. When he wasn't on a mission, he was in the ANBU compound exercising or sitting in his windowless room, waiting for mission assignments. On his 'days off' Lady Sarada would send him home to the Sound Village so Orochimaru could observe his development. He went along with it all because he didn't care and he didn't want to care. The less he cared, the less he had to think about the nights, haunted by the hateful moon and poisonous thoughts about a past that may or may not exist. Part of him was curious about it but most of him didn't want to know. It was simpler to live to please his parent.

It was a day like any other when Lady Sarada summoned him to her office. The summoning itself was unusual. Typically, she would quietly send missions to his team by way of a messenger with a scroll and simply expect them to carry out her orders, which they always did without fail. The only time he saw the Hokage face to face was when it was required to give a report in person.

He stood in her office, waiting. Her adviser, ChouChou, had seen him in then left and Sarada had yet to acknowledge his presence. She was sitting in the Hokage's chair with her back turned to him looking out the window. He had been standing so long he was starting to consider saying something when she finally spoke without turning around.

"I have a mission for you." She stated as a matter of fact, as if she hadn't just been keeping him waiting for a full ten minutes to state the obvious. He stayed silent until she continued, "It's a little different from the missions I usually give you." She finally turned around, holding out a tightly rolled scroll. Her face was set like stone but her eyes were over-bright, Mitsuki noted. "This is a recovery mission. These are true enemies of the Land of Fire, not just the Leaf. They are very powerful and they have a hostage. Neutralize the enemy but your first priority is the safety of the hostage. All the details are in here." Mitsuki nodded and reached for the proffered scroll. She held it back.

"Mitsuki..." She started, her voice much less business like but demanding his full attention, "Under no circumstances is the hostage to be harmed, do you understand? You are to bring him to me, personally." Mitsuki paused for a second before nodding again. This was a first. Usually, hostage recovery missions were handled by ANBU teams specializing in extractions. Mitsuki was almost exclusively assigned to assassination missions. He guessed that was due to his ruthless nature on the battle field that he was never given more delicate missions like this one. It was odd enough that he felt clarifying the rest of the mission would be wise.

"And the enemy nin...?"

"Do with them as you wish." She spat, uncharacteristically harsh as she spun her chair and dismissed him with a wave of her wrist. That was also odd. Sarada usually didn't give such orders. She liked to avoid unnecessary death, something he had learned from experience after many a chastisement. Whatever crimes this group had committed, it appeared to be personal to the Hokage, judging by the barley contained rage in her voice. Not that it mattered to him. his job was to serve her and to protect the village. He bowed respectfully to her back and saw himself out.

He read the scroll as he prepared in his room at the ANBU compound. It had a typical S-rank mission profile, complete with enemy descriptions, alignment, abilities, last known location, etc. There was nothing unusual at all except, there was. It all seemed somehow familiar, like he had read it before. His head throbbed painfully.

"Typical S-ranked mission, blah, blah, blah, suspected members of the old Kara, no surprise there..." Mitsuki whirled, kunai instantly at the ready lashing out at the source of the voice but his weapon only met with thin air. His body trembled as he stared at the empty room. He was sure someone was there, the voice still rang in his ears but he sensed nothing. He was alone, left to wonder what the ever-living hell had just happened.

Shakily, he returned to the oddly familiar information. It wasn't long before he noticed yet another strange thing about this mission. There was no mention of a hostage. If Lady Sarada hadn't told him directly, he would never have known this was a recovery mission. That such important information was missing was nothing short of bizarre, especially since she had made it clear that any damage to the hostage was unacceptable. All this was making him feel very uneasy but he had no choice. He suited up and left with his unit at sundown.