Where the Wind Blows

Existential Ankles

"Really? I can't believe I put on that good of a show," I said. "Too bad I couldn't see your fight." 

I knew my face was red and puffy from my crying, but I think he was relieved I wasn't telling him why I was crying. It's not like I didn't want to, but I didn't want to make him any more uncomfortable. I mean, he did walk in on me sobbing.

"It wasn't anything," he said cooly. 

He explained to me that my grandparents had come in earlier, but I was still asleep, so they left with Tsuki. My parents mission got extended, which I kind of figured was going to happen. It seemed like their missions were always getting "adjusted".

"Itachi, what do you think is your purpose as a Shinobi?"

"Do you and Shisui always talk about such existential things?" He sat down before continuing. "I believe that as a Shinobi, my needs are secondary to the greater good."

"I guess I agree with that. But what is the "greater good"? Who decides that for us? Being a Shinobi shouldn't be such a concrete thing...But I see what you and Shisui are saying," I said.

"Are you worried about him?" he asked.

I sighed. "Always. I just feel like lately, he's become so sad, and I don't know how to help him. This world is cruel, but Shisui is kind."

 I turned to him. "You see how he gets, when he talks about sacrificing himself for something greater than him. Maybe I'm selfish, or I just haven't figured out my purpose as a Shinobi yet, but I don't want it to be that- To risk my life at a moment's notice for something bigger than me. I'd have wasted a life I have barely begun to live...I know I'm just projecting my fears onto Shisui, and I shouldn't be mad at him, but he'd risk his life for an old lady crossing the street, if he thought he needed to. People like that don't come very often..."

I felt as sad as Shisui did. 

"Do you worry about me?" he asked quietly.

Yes.

"Sometimes," I admitted.

We looked at each other. He's always there for me, just like I'm there for Shisui...

"Big brother!" 

The energy in the room changed at a moment's notice. Itachi and I immediately pulled apart.

"Sasuke," I smiled. 

"Mira! I heard you did well on your exams! Not as good as my big brother though! No ones better than him."

I shot a look at Itachi, who was clearly embarrassed at his brother's compliments. You'd expect someone who gets complimented as much as Itachi to be used to the praise, but he clearly wasn't.

 I don't know who was telling this kid all of this, but I was about to let him know what really happened. 

I motioned for him to get closer to the bed, and when he did, I pinched his cheek. Sasuke was adorable. He immediately rubbed the spot I pinched, and began to glare at me.

"Sorry Sasuke, I couldn't help myself. But, as to what you were saying, there is someone better than Itachi."

Sasuke's eyes became saucers. "W-what?! Who could be stronger than him?"

"The answer is simple: me," I said.

Sasuke began to protest, saying there was no way I was stronger than him, but I was prepared for this.

"If your brother is the most powerful ninja ever," I said, "then how come I made the biggest fireball in the universe during the exam?"

"Is that true, big brother?" he was eyeing Itachi suspiciously, but Itachi just nodded.

I felt a lot of things towards Itachi in that moment, most of which I wouldn't fully come to understand till much later. 

"Well," I said, "That settles it. I'm stronger than him- But don't get too upset about it, Sasuke. If you want, I can teach you the Jutsu myself."

The joy in the room was undeniable. It's moments like these you appreciate the most in life. I could see Auntie Mikoto peeking her head in, making sure Sasuke wasn't too much trouble, and I could feel Itachi being happy. 

We laughed for what seemed like hours, and when my Granny appeared to check me out of the hospital, I felt really peaceful. I told her about the exam, and how my ankle betrayed me one time too many, but I still didn't feel complete when I got home. There was something I had to do. 

Since my ankle had been fractured, I still had to wear a cast, but it wasn't severe enough for crutches. Sneaking out was going to be annoying, but I needed to see him. 

I thought I had made it out safely, when I turned and saw Tsuki staring at me. After motioning for her to follow, she did, and we made our way to the place I considered my second home.

He was right where I thought he would be, and was staring into the koi fish pond in his backyard.

I sat down next to him, but he pretended he didn't notice me. I nudged him with my elbow.

"The silent treatment doesn't suit you. You could hear my cast brushing against the bushes from a mile away." 

He smiled. It was small, but there. I knew he couldn't stay mad at me for long.

"I'm sorry for lashing out at you earlier. I wish I could say I was out of it from just waking up, but I've had a lot on my mind," I said. "I don't really know my purpose in being a Shinobi, like you or Itachi. I just try and do what I think is right."

Tsuki had caught up with us, and began to nuzzle her head against Shisui's leg.

"A friend of yours?" he asked while petting her.

"My daughter, Tsuki," I responded. "Or, I guess my daughter with Itachi- he named her."

"Itachi," he repeated.

I looked at our reflections in the pond. Shisui looked beautiful in the pale moonlight. I wish I could have painted him in that moment.

"I feel like lately I've just been making you upset," I said.

"Did something happen during the exams?" he asked after a moment.

Yes. 

No. Maybe. I wasn't sure.

"...I don't know."

We sat in silence for a long time. He didn't have to speak for me to feel his frustration. 

"Itachi and I passed the exam- we don't have to battle in the finals. Starting tomorrow, we are Chunin, and from here on out, I'm gonna figure out what being a Shinobi means to me, even if it's the last thing I do," I said.

I was serious about it too. Once I set my mind to something, that was it. There was no going back.

I looked at him with eyes full of fire. 

"I know you will," he said, and held my hand like he had a thousand times before.