Advocated Wars

Chapter Twenty-Six

                                                                                                                        XXVI

The woman taped her long nails against the arm chair, resting so that she leaned precariously to the other side. Her legs were crossed, her foot swigging around the air. Aya’s long, white hair had been braided to the side, the intertwining pieces of hair showcasing the pale blue that bled at the tips. She looked like someone who belonged to the Mist, so unlike what Nozomu had once described of Passenger.

“Well?” She arched an eyebrow. “When Nozomu comes looking for you, which he will, I don’t want him to find you in here, talking to me.”

I studied her room more, an old habit of mine. Looking for possible escape routes, if needed. I wasn’t comfortable in new settings. And, in being a kunoichi, I tended to be more careful. Even when I didn’t need to be. I sat down on a chair opposite of her. “I want to know her story. Why Nozomu moved to The Leaf. Everything.”

The woman stared at me. “You look a little young to be a jounin—how old are you, anyways?”

“Sixteen.” She leaned back.

“That’s all?” I nodded. “So, what’s your relations with Nozomu, then? You have to be pretty close, to even know her name. He seems to trust you, at least.”

“He was my sensei. After graduating from the Academy, he was instructed to take watch over my team.” Aya’s eyes were a cold stone, a light jaded color. Where everything about her seemed to be odd tints of blue, her eyes were a sharp green, something you didn’t notice right away. I could tell she was weighing her options, wondering if she should trust me or not. “Please,” I breathed. “I need to know.”

Aya’s frown deepened. “Why? Why bring up things that don’t concern you—uselessly bringing up the past like this. Do you know how badly this could hurt him?”

“He once told me I reminded him of her.” Aya stopped tapping her fingers, then. And for a moment, I thought she’d kick me out. She looked angry. So angry I was sure she wouldn’t tell me anything. She took a deep breath through her nose, then.

Gently, she rested her cheek against her palm. “I guess you know this by now, but I grew up with Nozomu. We weren’t very close. None of us were remotely the same age—Nozomu, Passenger, Kirito. I’m sure you’re familiar with our nickname.”

“The Bloody Mist.” Aya gave me a sad smile.

“How terrible is that? You put kids together, all of us aspiring for the same thing. The same dream. And then they tell you that the only way to accomplish that is to kill your classmates.” Her eyes grew sadder. “Twelve years old, and already a monster.

“Passenger was only two years younger than Nozomu, I was even younger than her. Kirito was the oldest. I don’t suppose you ever heard of us, then?” I shook my head. “Right. As it turns out, Kirito was close was Nozomu. Very close. None of us knew Passenger at the time. But, I grew to love them, you know? We’d go on missions together, we’d eat together. It was like a makeshift family. And, when Nozomu met her, it was like his entire world changed, you know? He was happier. So, we were happier. This little—“ she smiled a bit, remembering them. “She was just a ball of energy, you know? Too bright for Kirigakure. It was so easy to tell why Nozomu loved her. Before they met, he’d kiss girls and he’d play with them, but he’d never actually date them, you know?” I let myself think of Surge for a moment, remembering the way girls used to flock to him. Even with his scar, he was deemed one of the cutest boy in our class, back when we were younger. “Passenger had him around her little finger.”

I thought of Surge and his boyfriend, and I felt a stillness in the pit of my stomach. Surge was like Nozomu in so many ways. Even with his stoic persona, Surge was still so much like him. Both were quick to their anger. Both were fierce—both loved someone so much they let them change who they were.

She continued, “They were engaged to be married. You’re not supposed to go on missions when you’re pregnant, but I’m sure you know that?” I nodded, again. She nodded, too. “Passenger didn’t know she was pregnant. We were all assigned to go on a joint mission, a rather risky mission. I was brought along because of my medical abilities. But, god, was that awful. Kirito lost his sight in one eye. I took a sword between my lungs. If it would have traveled an inch further, just one little inch, I would have been dead.

“Nozomu lost a lot more that day. He had to hold his dying fiancée in his arms. And, later on, after the autopsy, he had to hear about how he let the love of his life die, along with their child.” Tears gathered in Aya’s eyes, and I didn’t blame her.

“Thank you, Aya,” I nodded, standing up to leave. She stood up, too.

“To say you remind him of her—that’s something. I can only imagine how badly that hurts.”

“What about you, Aya-san?” I asked. “Have you ever loved someone?” The woman grimaced. She walked to her dresser and, when she came back, handed me a framed picture.

 

The man inside the glass was handsome, I supposed. With black hair and silver eyes, a deep cut running through the skin of his left eye. Almost like the infamous Kakashi’s. “That’s Kirito,” she said, standing behind me. Her cold hands wrapped around my upper arm. “I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone so much.” Her voice was filled with contempt. “And I hate myself every day for it.” 

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Game of Thrones made me sad. So, I wrote this. I'm still sad.