I stared at the broken Claw mask before me.
My apartment building was mostly destroyed, but enough was still standing for me to sift through the rubble in search of my belongings. My twin blades had been returned to me by Kakashi, and I still had the clothes on my body, but that was it.
And now the Claw mask.
Kakashi had broken it when I had fought him as the Claw. I had repaired it to train my genin. Now it lay broken once more upon the previous fault.
My missing fingers gave a vicious phantom throb and I curled and uncurled my hand into a fist several times, flexing sore and shortened tendons. The measures I had taken to strengthen my ninjutsu training had been a waste: I would no longer be able to perform ninjutsu with my lack of ability to make hand signs. Some ninja were capable of performing jutsus with one hand; it might take hours upon hours of practice, but I should be capable of learning how to do jutsus with a missing and incomplete finger.
I gathered what little I had, picking up the larger piece of the Claw mask and sliding it into my backpack. Pausing, I glanced over a partially broken frame, tipped over on the cracked floor. After a hesitant moment, I picked it up, brushing off the bits of glass that had chipped off in fragments, removing the picture it had held. The picture had been taken as an official team photo; an identical copy of the picture I held in my hand had been given to each genin. In the picture, I had my arms crossed and held a frown of disapproval on my face. That was when I had just been given a team, despite my many protests. Despite their less than enthusiastic sensei, Aisa, Michiko, and Kento smiled brightly. A look of playful rivalry could be detected from the boys, and a sense of snarky innocence exhumed from Michiko.
I allowed one of my fingers to glaze over the three of them, and then crumpled up the picture, intending to throw it away. But my body, my fingers, unconsciously refused to take action. A broken sigh of pain and frustration escaped my mouth as I buried my face into my hands.
"Dammit Ibiki," I muttered bitterly. "Damn you, damn me." Had Ibiki just done what I'd asked of him, I would have been able to make the cold, logical decisions that needed to be made without any hesitation, any second-guessing, any regret. Now, the same decisions would have to be made; nothing would change except the pain I would be in. I glanced once more at the picture before crumpling it up again.
Instead of dropping it in the rubble, though, I shoved it into my pocket and walked away.
***
Tsunade was out of commission.
I frowned at Shikamaru, who had just informed me that Tsunade was in a coma when I'd asked where the Hokage was. He frowned back, scanning my body, eyes lingering on exposed bandages and my missing fingers.
"Why do you want to see the Hokage?" he asked instead of commenting on my injuries.
I ignored his question. "If Tsunade isn't Hokage, who is right now?"
He grimaced. "My old man suggested Kakashi," he replied. "But it was shot down. Danzo recommended himself, instead, and the council agreed."
My frown deepened. "Danzo, huh?" He did owe me from when I had broken the blue-eyed Claw for him, but...he had finally gained the position of power he had always craved. It wasn't likely that he would listen to any requests, and certainly not mine.
Shikamaru leaned back, his injured leg propped up. "Why do you want to see the Hokage?" he questioned again.
"I..." I began, then broke off. "I know that I'll probably be busy with repairing the village and that ninja will be stretched thin, right now. I just wanted to make sure that if I was sent on any missions, long term or otherwise, my genin wouldn't be forgotten. They'd get a mission of their own that they could handle or another chunin or jonin would take over their training for a bit. But he's probably busy, right now, and doesn't have time for small requests like that. So." Shikamaru was still frowning. "Anyhow. Hope you heal quickly; we'll need the extra help."
I went to leave, but before I could take more than a few steps he called out, "Cashile."
I turned so I could look him in the eye, hiding my annoyance and fear and guilt. "Yes?"
He studied me closely, face pale and eyes exhausted but intelligence unaffected, then finally sighed. "Where are you going?"
I blinked. "To help with repairing the village. Or at least yell at people about how to do it better; the nurse said I wasn't fully healed yet."
He watched me for a long moment before clicking his tongue dismissively, glancing away. "Right," he replied. "Okay."
Once again, I didn't even make it out the door before he called me back again. I spun, let some annoyance show, and snapped, "What."
He paused for another pregnant moment before speaking. "I'll look after them," he reassured. "Your genin. I'll keep an eye on them for you."
I swallowed heavily, he nodded seriously, and I took a steadying breath, a little weight lifted from my chest. "Thank you," I returned. "Goodbye."
***
"I don't know why you couldn't have just stayed in the hospital to keep healing!" Sakura complained, running a hand over my ribs. She winced. "How many ribs did you break?!"
"I don't know," I grimaced. "Three? Four?"
"You should have stayed in the hospital," she scolded again.
"You know me." I smiled thinly. "Always on the move."
She passed her hand over my head, down my arms, over the missing fingers with detached, clinical professionalism. "Really. At least you had the common sense to come to me for more healing."
"Where would we be without you, Sakura?" I asked. She pressed her lips together, turned her head away, and didn't answer, instead frowning at the cut across my torso that was freshly scarred. She didn't mention the scars or the brand and something like gratefulness sparked in my stomach for her. I hesitated for a moment, then said, "I'm sorry about Tsunade."
"No, you're not," Sakura sighed. I opened my mouth to reply, but she kept speaking. "I appreciate the sentiment all the same."
I closed my mouth again, watching her heal the last remnants of a deep bruise on my thigh and wondering if she was right. I didn't care particularly much that Tsunade was in a coma, except for the fact that it made Danzo Hokage. Or did I? Did it matter? There was hope that she would wake up; she wasn't dead.
With a huge exhale, Sakura sat back, wiping sweat from her forehead and giving me a smile. "There you are. All done."
I let my shirt drop, picking up my torn coat. Before, it had been a floor-length trench coat that reminded me too much of Ibiki. Now, it barely reached mid-thigh; I'd been forced to tear off the bottom portion from the damage it had sustained. I picked up my backpack as well. "Thanks, Sakura."
She stood, wiping off her clothes. "No problem. You should probably keep any activity light just in case I missed anything and so you don't damage any newly healed areas, but you should be fine, now."
"Thanks," I repeated. "Goodbye."
"I'll see you later," she waved. "Be careful!"
"Goodbye," I said again, and left.
***
I passed Naruto in the streets while he was carrying rubble. I hadn't thought he'd seen me, but then I heard him shout my name and I turned to watch him hand off the wooden beam to someone else and run toward me.
"Yes?" I asked.
"You're okay?" He inquired earnestly, blue eyes shining. "Were you hurt?"
I automatically pressed into the stumps of my fingers, and the movement drew his eyes. "Not too seriously," I replied even though I remembered exactly how scared Kakashi had looked when he'd seen me.
"Aw, man," Naruto said, still looking at my fingers. "How're you gonna do ninjutsu?"
I frowned, unused to his concern, still. "I'll manage. Some ninja can do jutsus with one hand. Besides, other people lost more than just a couple fingers."
Naruto's eyes grew despondent for a moment as he glanced around, nodding seriously. "Yeah," he mumbled. Then he looked back at me, and I'd never realized that his eyes were so piercing, before; it was like he was stripping past every layer and seeing exactly what was happening in my mind. "Are you okay?"
"I said I had no major injuries," I replied, shifting backward.
"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you're okay," he insisted, eyes open and tone heartfelt. "Is your team all alright?"
"They all survived," I answered automatically. "My genin are fine."
He searched me for another long moment before nodding, smiling, and clapping me on the shoulder. "It'll be alright, eventually," he consoled, seeming to recognize that I wasn't okay, somehow, but not knowing what was wrong. "We're rebuilding! We'll come back stronger."
"Right," I agreed, anxious to leave him and his earnest, piercing eyes. "Of course."
He let go of my shoulder, still concerned but somewhat reassured. "Be careful, Cashile," he ordered seriously. "I know the Rising Phoenix was after you, especially, because..."
"Yeah, I know, I know," I stepped back. "Good job with the Akatsuki, by the way."
He smiled. "Thank you for coming down and helping. And trying to protect Hinata, too."
"No problem. You owe—" I cut myself off, winced, and repeated, "No problem."
"See you later, Cashile!" He waved, backing away as he spotted someone who needed help with a piece of rubble.
I nodded back. "Goodbye."
***
I stood in front of a broken section of the village wall. There were still ninja guarding it, of course, but they were more concerned with people trying to get in than they were with people trying to get out.
It had been a new moon the night before the attack had occurred; now it was approaching its first quarter, bright enough to cast a little light on the ground before it followed the sun below the horizon.
I stared into the woods, stared down at the broken mask I held, contemplating. The pain of Aiden's death continued to claw at my chest, in ways that I had never experienced, in ways that made my missing, throbbing fingers ache just a little less. It wasn't just fingers that had been cut from me.
Once again I shoved the pain deep inside, shoving it into a box that would break, changing the direction of my thoughts. I needed a strategy, to figure out what—a familiar voice interrupted my thoughts.
"And make sure to cover this area, and that one down there. Be on high alert, we've lost enough lives in this village," Kakashi ordered to the ninja who stood hunched over in exhaustion around the walls and gates.
Shit. I looked around and spotted two ninja walking in my direction; while they were here to guard the gates, they would have no problem enforcing the curfew that existed for certain area—like the broken wall—and that was more attention than I wanted. Behind the ninja, ordering them into their respective positions, trailed Kakashi. I faded into the shadows, sliding the mask over my face to hide my identity just in case they saw me, and began to slink away.
Even tired, Kakashi was on high alert. Most likely sensing my movement, his head shot up and his eye narrowed, scanning his surroundings. I tried to remain completely still, but, unfortunately, my previously injured muscles were still sore and weak, unable to move as smoothly as I would have liked. When Kakashi scanned the area again, his eyes focused on me. He didn't quite startle, but his shoulders tensed and his eye narrowed further into an ugly glare. I turned my head to meet his gaze, and the glare left his slowly widening eye.
I stood suspended in the moment, pinned under his stare; the weak moon shined behind me, my one uncovered eye locked with his; the mask laid heavy on my face, the scar on my cheek exposed and bright in the faint light; I trembled, frozen; Kakashi was still, eye wide, hand paused halfway between grasping for a weapon or reaching out toward me.
"Cashile?" He whispered.
The moment was broken, fractured into a thousand possibilities and I fell impaling myself on a shard with all the devotion I could muster.
He took a step forward.
I departed.
End of Part I