8: Worse Than Dying

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So here's a picture of what I imagine Misaki looks like ^^

I lose track of time, lying in this hospital bed. The days are long and numbered only by my careful observation of shift changes in the ANBU just outside the door and window. I keep an eye out for the silver-haired ninja but he never comes.

The pain is getting less in my hand and head. Just yesterday, the nurse took the bandage off my hand, revealing a nice scar on my palm stretching from my thumb to pinky finger. The memory of how I got the scar brings bile to the back of my throat.

Another scar on the same limb is all the talk among the nurses that check up on me throughout the day. I wonder if they'd still gossip about it if they knew how I got it. I'm sure it would shut them up, mention of the most powerful ninja in the village trying to kill me and failing.

Maybe then they would know how dangerous I am. Or was.

I failed to prove myself to Hiashi-Sama and to the cloaked figure. That's all I am--a failure.

Truth be told, I have never been that powerful. If I were truly strong, I would have been sent on more missions out of the Dream Village before now. My true strength lies only in my specialty. Namely, my clan's powerful genjutsu abilities.

Our eyes are what make us special. Much like the Hidden Leaf's Uchiha or Hyuuga clans. In fact, the Kumara clan is rumored to have branched from the Uchiha clan many hundreds of years ago. We don't possess copy abilities but we share the ability to inflict real, physical pain upon our opponent in a genjutsu.

My genjutsu combined with my special chakra release of both water and lightning--storm release--make my power extremely rare. Theoretically, I could trap someone in a genjutsu and cause them electrifying pain while drowning them. Not enough to kill them, of course, but when the person finally wakes up from the genjutsu, their real body would certainly be weak and exhausted. The issue isn't my potential, it's my capability.

Most of my clan was wiped out in the Third Shinobi War. My own parents, the ones I hold dear despite casting me out, are adoptive. There is nobody left in the Hidden Dream Village who understands my powers and could ever train me effectively.

It's like nobody speaks my language, and it's impossible to learn to speak the language of an extinct population.

The closest clan to mine that still exists is the Uchiha clan.

I wonder if an Uchiha would be able to teach me.

Maybe I'll be able to find that out. The Hidden Leaf Village doesn't seem like a terrible place to stay, considering the alternative. If I were to go back to the Dream Village, Hiashi-Sama might just kill me. And, despite my terrible deed, it seems this Third Hokage is showing me mercy. He must know, I think. Why is he letting me live?

The Hokage in this village all seem so strange.

Another shift change marks another night as the ANBU outside my room and the window disappear momentarily. I wait patiently for the next group to appear, ready to search them again for the silver hair. Despite the fact that it's been over five days and he hasn't been here, fear still manages to well up inside of me.

There's a knock on the window that wakes me from my thoughts. I turn quickly and see a familiar face outside. Quickly and quietly, still keeping watch for the new round of ANBU due to arrive any time now, I open the window.

"Kam! What the hell are you doing here?" the words scrape past my lips in a whisper yell, my eyes wide to match the surprise in my voice.

"I'm here to retrieve you," he says quickly. His features are dark, barely visible by the dim lights from inside, "Quick, the next round of ANBU Black Ops are coming any second."

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