Demented Lullabies [ Kari ]

[Haruka]

Why are children born screaming? It was an interesting question to be asked. Children, or rather infants, were born into a world full of cruel intentions and hatred. So, did they immediately detect it when they were pushed from the comfortable home that they made within their mother's womb? They were unaffected, small beings, and brand new presences within the world. So, was it something that was intense for them to experience when they slipped from one realm to another? Upon a Medic's mind, there had to be many things that were to be answered, and Kazuhiko was no different from any of his other bretheren within the wide world of Shinobi. Maybe it hurt them and it was not something that they could express other than by crying and screaming? Sitting atop of the Spire, the darkness clad man would look down at his side for a few moments towards what looked like a bundled up basket. The moon was the only illumination and he could note that the basket's handle had a collection of dried blood atop of it along with the sheets used to wrap up the squirming and quivering mass inside of the basket. It was a mild summer's night, nothing too damning about that. There was nothing that outwardly bothered him other than the stains of blood on his hands and the fact that he could not remember where exactly they came from. The past few months had been a god damned blur. Ever since he ventured out with the young Kurai, he could only remember darkness from down there within that cave. He remembered her and the slight glimpses that he had of her, but what became of her was far beyond him.

After all, the dark was so damned, so obscuring. Perhaps he had gone wild, like an animal? What had become of the people that he had left behind? And what the fuck became of this village? Lifting his hands up, he would grasp at the upper parts of his arms as he ground his teeth together harshly in his head. There was still a numbness in his middle finger from his Jounin Exam that he knew he'd never be able to shake, but on this particular night, the arm that he reattached to himself ached with no remorse. It had been years since that point, but whenever the pressure changed within the atmosphere... It was hard to think of his shortcomings, and that he had shortcomings upon himself. But at this point, the fact that he was blanking out so incredibly hard, and for months at a time, that was a bit much for him to handle. Normally he had a better control upon himself. Where his control had gone, he would more than likely never find out. The sound of a gasping sob would echo from the basket that had been settled beside him and he would turn to look towards it with slightly widened blue eyes. And I still have no god damn clue where this kid came from, he would think, pressing his eyes shut tightly now. After a moment of breathing, he would reach out and pick the bundled up child up. Now, he would hold the baby close to his chest. Now, if only he could remember who the fuck he tormented for months to have this come to light.

His legs would dangle just so from the top of the Spire and he let out an audible sight. "Get your shit together, Kazuhiko. Seriously..." He would whisper, coddling the child back to her slumber.

 

[Kari]

He was consumed with work, as he had been; for some time now, it had felt as though she lived on her own, despite th promise Kazuhiko had given her. Not that it was much a problem, the solitude it provided was a comfort she had grown up with, both in this life and her previous; having some kind of constant kept whatever was left of her sanity, or so she told herself. She wasn't insane, no, not yet. But people have become with experiences far lesser and less frequent. Perhaps she was stronger -- no, she was stronger.

She could lead.

There wasn't anything of difficulty to expect with her days as a student; light training regiments -- which she more used to bring herself back to the strength she had prior to the Incident -- along with classes and menial missions filled each day now. She couldn't be found lounging along the wall, where she had hid from Kazuhiko before he became withdrawn into whatever work it was he did, any longer. The thought came up, just then, if he was even aware she was enrolled; Kari couldn't recollect mentioning it to him recently. Hell, she couldn't even recall Kazuhiko being anywhere for her to tell him.

She was strong.

Training had been lighter than usual, and she was sent home earlier still. She couldn't focus, and others had noticed that; she couldn't go back home -- it was funny how she could consider it that, now, considering everything -- it was far too early. In the off chance (even as unlikely as it was) that Kazuhiko was there, he'd immediately recognize something was amiss. It was frustrating, sometimes, how he only knew; she understood why, perfectly: a doctor had to know, it was far too often a patient wouldn't know, or would refuse to tell, to ensure their safety, a doctor had to read past that. Kazu did that with her far too often; he was far too good.

She could manage.

A light stream of water was running. Falling some six inches into a drain, giving the emptied restroom what would have been a relatively quiet source of white noise. Kari made no sound, no breathing, no movement, nothing. There was no one around. It was really just her. A stoic girl in red stared back at her; she was a stranger, she wasn't her. It felt as though, behind the mask, Kari had more emotion than she ever had before. She was hiding plenty that couldn't be seen, that wouldn't be seen, ever, even by Kazuhiko, were he around.

Could she manage?

Kari's gaze moved onto the trickling water; when was the last time she had felt? Anything? The sensation of touch was a ghost of a sensation, a kinetic mirage that Kari was stricken to madness with. She ran her hand under the water, she felt nothing, but rather recalled the sensation of coldness. How the liquid felt somewhat cooler than the temperature of skin. How it all felt. She couldn't recall it all; it was as though, bit by bit, she was losing whatever humanity Karurosu had had. She was becoming a monster.

Was she strong?

The feeling wasn't completely foreign, it was the first thing she had experienced, when Kari was born. The sensation-less sensation, the crippling fear's power even when she couldn't move. It felt like a poison that had taken hold of her body; she felt sick, something that wasn't even possible. She felt like she needed to breathe, even though she couldn't. All the while, that same stoic face watched, with those same uncaring eyes. As though it were some kind of way to end that apathetic stare, she flung the droplets of water that covered her hand onto her face. That's when it hit her.

Could she lead?

Even beyond the lack of emotion Kari's reflection showed, with the water, it appeared almost as though she were crying. She recalled Kirigakure, then, when it was besieged with those creatures. While the main branch and ANBU of the islands focused their attention on diverting attacks and pushing back the creatures, Karu had been involved with evacuations and emergency medical treatments, to an extent. Children crying, carrying nothing but a loaf of bread and the clothing on their back, being forced onto boats packed grossly uncomfortably with strangers, and, even then, no guarantee on where they might go after that. Boys fighting for one of the few free places still standing after the Kraken had attacked; girls crying for help, fatally injured. Kari appeared like one of them, now. Why?

She was trapped in every sense of the word. For now, she had to remain in Iwagakure, swearing herself as a shinobi. She was indebted to Kazuhiko, for him saving her life, even at the sake of Karurosu's. She was a she now. The burdens and freedoms of her previous were gone, at the cost of these new. What she was, the monster she had been created as, was seen as taboo by the country; discovery of it almost certainly meant her death, however that could occur. She was afraid, something Karurosu had never been. She couldn't breathe; she was having trouble even moving again. She was trapped. She was nothing but a doll, some plaything of Kazuhiko now. She couldn't do anything.

Methodical thumping was growing louder, overcoming the water's trickling until there was nothing but it. She couldn't hear anything over her heartbeat, not that it mattered. She was lost in her own thoughts; she couldn't do anything, it was hopeless to even try. She was suffocating, even though she couldn't breathe. She was trapped here and couldn't do anything to free herself.

She limply fell to the restroom's floor then. Not dead, but the next closest thing.

WC: 978​