Dragonfly

Chapter Sixteen: Famous Last Words

"M-Mom, you're choking me-"

Satoshi eased Emiko's arms away, but she still held on, albeit not as tightly as before. She really had an iron hold-I was surprised I didn't die. Then, Satoshi set his hand on my head and smiled, just a little.

"It is. She's the same rebellious one we've always had, Emiko."

Emiko shifted her hands to my shoulders and spun me around so I could face them both and see their proud, parental smiles. Not the usual scowls or exasperated frowns, shadowed eyes and stressed expressions, but light, thankful smiles. "Ah, you're right. She is. And we never could have asked for a better daughter."

"We love you too, Rika. And we always will. So, let's just keep on doing our best." Satoshi ruffled my hair and I looked away, feeling something misty in my eyes.

"Y-yeah. Let's."

Maybe they felt that the end was coming, too.

The pen stops moving. My thoughts end here and, well, really, there's just not a lot more to say. I spent the whole day filling up this empty notebook-one Emiko had given me for one of my grade school year birthdays to use at the Academy, which never really happened-with the best memories of the past fifteen years of my second life in Konohagakure as Uchiha Rika, and what I just finished writing happened only a few hours ago.

The rest isn't worth writing about, because it would just be writing about, well, writing. Rage-writing through an entire lifetime from the midday hours to the evening just to pass the time by and to remember all of the good times.

The sun sinks low towards the horizon and the sky is red, orange, fading into brownish purples, but the red is brightest to me because it's as deep as blood and a stark reminder of the upcoming genocide that's to happen in only a few short moments. Within the hour, maybe. Maybe two. Three. It's hard to tell, only that I know it's happening, and soon.

I'm ready. I don't have any regrets.

I take the several pages filled with my short life history and run my hand fondly over the cover. Then, I hold the book over the tip of the flame of the candle set on my small writing desk and watch the paper catch fire, burning, smoldering, blackening and crumbling into ash from the bottom up while gray flakes flutter to the varnished wood below.

My life-going up in flames.

A reflection of what would happen in a matter of hours. But then again, maybe I'm just erasing my tracks.

It's dramatic, I know, but earlier in the day I went the extra mile and pulled on my dark, darkest Uchiha clothes, deep, deep plum as close to black as I would allow, and black shorts. My mourning clothes.

Fully prepared, see? But it isn't just for me-it's for the whole clan.

After the flames flicker away and the papers are left as little more than a clutter of dust, I brush the remnants away into the trash bin and just...sit. There isn't really much of anything else to do.

I look down at the dragonfly hairpin on my desk and reach out to touch it-wondering if I should keep it on or leave it off, but really what does it matter?

Dragonfly.

A dragonfly.

Now, when I finally have the chance to let my thoughts wander and just distract me to fill out the time, I notice the irony of it all.

Like a dragonfly, my life has been short. Full of excitement and freedom to experience life as it is, as it happens, and having the future and the end in mind but only as a distant inevitability, not something to hold me down or push me back. I'd spread my wings and flew in the only way I knew I could-by doing whatever I damn well pleased, even if it fell short of flying.