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4 years ago
Lights out.
2 years ago
A soft light bathed the room in a warm, white light. The low hum of measuring electronics filled the air, not quite loud enough to compete with the constant rhythm of a heavy rain beating on the windows, hidden behind thick curtains. Clean sheets covered his body and a pair of soft, fluffy pillows supported his back and neck. Natsu blinked, attempting to make sense of the surroundings, trying to form a coherent thought. Recall basic words and sentence structures. Like a writer searching for the correct thread to string along words in a story after a long dry spell, the Shinobi struggled to keep his eyes open. He failed, and a dark nothing swallowed him back into unconsciousness.
1.5 years ago
A woman stood over him, clutching a writing pad. Her lips moved, air waves vibrated against his eardrums. And while the sounds had a foreign familiarity to them, they remained significantly meaningless. If the man had any conscious control over his muscles, his face would’ve contorted into a confused look. Demanding an explanation. Begging for understanding. Yet Natsu could not, for try as he might, his body refused to move a finger or even wiggle an eyebrow. Flesh had become a prison, incapacity his jailor. Frustration and loneliness, desperation and fear, confusion and sadness his cellmates. Consciousness would be his key out, yet he knew not what the lock was. The only thing which escaped was a tear rolling along his cheek. Then the dark reclaimed him once more.
8 months ago
His breathing came ragged, struggling with the intrusions in his mouth and throat.
RIP THEM OUT. Commanded a primal urge. Not even the desperation for oxygen could will his body to obey. Futile thrashing was all it accomplished.
Do not. Nourishment. Important. Came another voice, calm yet firm.
SHACKLED. NEED FREEDOM. Shouted the primal entity back. Natsu’s eyes shot back and forth, though they did not register any details.
Dangerous. Stupid. Replied the other.
Not us. His body froze, muscles locked. A moment passed, no longer than a heartbeat. The body fell limp once more. The dark welcomed back his familiar friend.
7 months ago
Masao. The word shot through the silence in his head.
Name, informed the calm voice. What was a Masao? Who was a Masao?
Sempai. Example. Important. Dear. The words trickled in, slow enough to allow a meaning for each to be found.
Laugh. Enjoy. Respect. Adoration. Comrade. Fight. Danger. Injuries. Fall. The words now came, falling like bricks clattering together onto a pile, and were crushed by the final one:
DEATH. Pain coursed through him. Worse than the tubes. Worse than the inability. He wanted to retreat into the darkness once more. Yet as it rushed to comfort him, a final word dropped into existence.
Father.
5 Months ago
Haruka. The name rippled through, and Natsu shied back. Hesitant after the previous experience.
Fall. Mock. Taunt. Slap. Glare. They slammed into his mind with a terrible force. All he could do was hope for the rain to stop or for the darkness to come save him.
Laugh. Unshackled. Travel. Eyes. Affection. Lips. Want. Need. Now Natsu scrambled forward, eager to know their meaning, their relevance. Yet the darkness did not care, did not heed.
YEARNING. It swooped in and took him away yet again.
Love.
3.5 months ago
Words regained meaning. Regained power.
Knowledge equals power. Power equals Power, which enables the gain of Knowledge. Darkness seeped back in, calling out like a siren for a sailor. It did not like these thoughts. Did not like coherence.
Spymaster. Jonin. Kingslayer. Enishi. Shinobi. Sennin. Death. Murder. Raikage. Power. Weapon. END. AWAKE. LIVE. The Shinobi willed it, and so it happened. His index finger shook just a breath. His big toe wiggled ever so slightly. His lips moved, and tongue maneuvered.
“Do Na Tsu”.
4 weeks ago
Natsu sat upright in the bed, his fingers weakly grasping at the cup of water in front of him. A nurse stood next to him, quickly scribbling notes, excitedly peering over him and muttering aloud once in a while. He had tried to call out for help, yet had fallen back into a state of unconsciousness three more times before he had managed.
“Hos..pit-al?” He asked, voice cracking under exhaustion and parched lips. The nurse’s eyes widened even further, noting the action down furiously before excitedly squaking.
“Correct! Please, go on!”
The Jonin confusedly thought about the words, their meaning lagging slightly behind the input.
“Hel..p. Wa-t-er pl-ea..se.” He couldn’t grip the cup hard enough to manage drinking independently, but his mouth felt as dry as ash. The nurse hesitated for a moment, but decided to help the poor man in front of her. Assisting in lifting the cup to his lips, he took a careful sip. Relishing in the rediscovered sensation, Natsu hurriedly took another, before he almost chocked.
“Careful! You’ve only just awoken!" The caretaker warned, lowering the cup back down. A nod was all she received in return.
“W.. W-ant Shm, Sh-imm..a Haru-Har-Haruka. N-Nee..d.” The Shinobi croaked, before leaning back into the pillow. He felt the darkness rise once more as the comfortable pillows swallowed him up, and he could not resist. It also caused him to miss the worried look which had appeared on his caretaker’s face.
2.5 weeks ago
As he resurfaced into consciousness, Natsu found that a group stood aside his bed.
“Greetings, mr. Do. I am Medical Chief Hinamotori Kazuto. Just Kazu will do however. How are you feeling?” The voice was warm and kind. Natsu nodded minimally in response.
“O..kay. Tal..k hard. I-i-impro..ving.” “So I’ve heard, yes, mr Do. Truly remarkable! Especially after all these years.. This is an amazing recovery!” Natsu didn’t bother, didn’t care.
“Shi ma. Haruk-a. Bring.. her. I, I, Inform Raikage. I.. I need see– them!” Nervous glances were exchanged.
“We’ll do the necessary, mr. Do. Now, if you would, follow this little flashlight with your eyes please..”
“You see, due to a highly aggressive tumor development on your parathyroid glands, your parathyrin levels skyrocketed." The doctor clicked off the flashlight, noting down some results.
"I'm sure you of all people understand that a Kaguya does need a higher level of calcium for bone control and restructure, but for any normal Kaguya these levels were just far too high. Your thyroid went into an active state, parahyperthyroidism, eventually resulting in a thyroid storm and causing your coma. After several attempts, we’ve managed to remove the tumor. We believe it is gone completely but..” A careful pause.
“You still produce a ridiculous amount of calcium. It’s not a consistent production however. Every now and again, it’ll likely act up, forcing you to get rid of it somehow, or risk falling into a coma yet again.”
Present time
It has been more than two week now! And still no news! Not even a message! In the time it took to find and alert two people, Natsu had managed to walk independently once more and found his voice much more stable than compared to his first attempts. He had managed to walk, independently, for the first time again last night. Each time the Medical Chief had come to congratulate him on his progress, praising his treatment and machinery as often, if not more, than Natsu. And each time the Shinobi has inquired about any feedback, which always ended up deflected with a vague promise and a request for time. However, from what Natsu had heard, four years had already passed and many things had changed. Time was not a luxury resource he could make use of.
Later that night, he snuck out. Not an easy feat for a weakened Shinobi, dressed in the ridiculous patient’s garments offered by the hospital. None of his regular clothing had been retained at the hospital. Yet somehow he managed to reach his old apartment with no more than one or two odd looks from a civilian out for a nightly walk. Natsu had hesitated whether coming here was a good idea or not. Who was to say the building had not been sold to another? However, no one would take him seriously with the hospital garments. And given the time span he had been out for, he could not risk being sent back without learning at least something. His agents and spies may have come and gone during his absence, but the mentality had not disappeared after all that time.
Luckily, the apartment’s spare key was still hidden under the same brick as where he remembered, and as he carefully unlocked the door, a sigh of relief escaped his lips. Aside from sheets of plastic covering the furniture to protect it from dust, it was still the very same as his memories made him believe. A wave of nostalgia washed over him, recalling several more memories and details.
The donut store around the corner, his document-cluttered desk, the many books and reports he’d read sprawled out over the sofa.. A tear fought its way down his cheek, but the Jonin was far too content revisiting his memories to pay it any heed.
After several minutes of taking it all in, Natsu shook himself out of the reverie. Every moment he wasted was a moment the hospital staff could notice his escape. They no doubt would not appreciate a patient out and about, ruining the precious recovery he’d made. Especially given the nature of the patient. Thus, Natsu swiftly retrieved a suit from the closet. It did not cleanly fit the slimmed down frame, a result of close to four years being tube fed, but it’d have to do. It gave him some sense of his old self back, and with renewed confidence he set out towards the legation. Surely someone would recognize him there, after all his years of service, and provide him with some much needed information? Yet on his way out, his eye fell on a mysterious package containing a letter on the floor, just in front of the door.
His curiosity got the better of him, as he picked it up. In large, bold letters it informed the reader that it was strictly confidential. As well as Natsu could tell, the seal had not been undone yet. A single character had been marked at the bottom-right corner, indicating the provider. Signed with only an
‘H’ however, it was impossible to determine who exactly the mysterious sender was. The most obvious possibility was of course Haruka. Yet it did not seem to be her handwriting, if he could correctly recall. Opening the document, Natsu read through the contents. Immediately he wished he hadn’t. His hands shook uncontrollably, eyes staring in disbelief at the words on the document. A pained
“No..” was all he could manage.
Stumbling to his feet, the Jonin shook his head several more times. This could not be. This was not allowed to be true! He refused! Surely this was some cruel prank, and no truth to be simply believed! The blonde slowly moved towards the door, paper still clutched in hand, and opened the door. As a lightning bolt he took off, rushing through the streets of the Seki District. As he finally found a passerby, he grabbed the man by the shoulders.
“Shima Haruka! Where is she?!” At the mention of the name the man’s eyes went wide. His answer was a shrug of the shoulders.
“In prison rotting. Or dead, as some rumors have you believe. For a while now laddie.. How come you’re no-..” Natsu had taken off again before the man had finished. Each person he passed responded similarly enough. The report had been correct. The one woman, the one anchor he’d had left in his life after Masao’s departure.. Gone.
His determination and spirit from earlier had all but disappeared. His shoulders slumped, head hanging down. Tears started rolling freely, mixing in with the rain which had once more picked up. Sobbing uncontrollably, his feet took him away for the eyes staring at him, though Raiden could know where to. The emotional blow had a serious impact on Natsu. His breathing came very irregular, as well as his heart beat going erratic. The inner darkness called out to him again, as his vision began to cloud. Head spinning, felt the rush the Medical Chief had warned him about.
Force it down! Expend the calcium! Warned the words of the Medical Chief in his head. But the Kaguya couldn’t help wonder whether he should even bother..
He had lost his Sennin position; Most of his former intelligence contacts and friends he could presume had either died or moved on; Masao was dead; Shima Haruka now reportedly had died a traitor at the hands of Akira Saito; His body was failing him, presenting the risk of blasting out of control.
This is too much. Too godrotting much! Natsu thought desperately, as he frantically pumped out the overflowing calcium threatening to tackle him once more. Spires of calcium fell from his hands, digging into the paved ground with a crunching noise, as a thin layer of bone stretched out and covered his limbs. He slumped against the wall of an apartment building, though he hadn’t even realized he'd made it to the Residential Area. Perhaps he should just give into the darkness once more..
.. Yet a name pulled Natsu's attention, away from the temptation of false serenity. 'Takaki' adorned the mailbox of the apartment. A hundred different explanations could be given for why it'd be there in front of him, yet the blonde grasped one and clutched onto it as if his life depended on it. What if it was his old sempai, the man who'd called him a son before he'd disappeared. What if he had not died from the fall thanks to same miraculous trick and instead had returned to the village to settle once more. Natsu stumbled up the stairways, looking for the door matching the mailbox number. Finally finding the correct one, he banged on it once. Then again, and again, over and over. He'd continue until Masao opened the door, inviting him in and chiding him for being late to dinner.
[Word Count: 2.2375]
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