|The Memory Keeper
Author: Madara-Baka PM
Kimiko Kioku, memory keeper. Never forgets, always notices, from how the wind blew her hair to the lullaby her mother would sing to her when she was not even a year old. She remembers the blood, the glassy, clouded over eyes her brother had as he died. She remembers the first person she killed and how it all feels like it's falling apart. Minor KakaxOC, see inside for more info.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Adventure - Kakashi H. & Team Seven - Chapters: 28 - Words: 60,555 - Reviews: 86 - Favs: 48 - Follows: 61 - Updated: 01-03-13 - Published: 02-22-12 - Status: Complete - id: 7862104
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hey, Hi, Hello.
Welcome to the twenty-first chapter of 'The Memory Keeper'. I've begun to develop writer's block, so I apologize for any late updates that may occur. Plus, I start school in two weeks and I'll be extremely stressed because of that): Personally, I think this chapter sucks but I guess you guys will be the judge of that. This hasn't been edited. The song is 'The Last Something That Meant Anything' by Mayday Parade, though it doesn't have much to do with this chapter. Please enjoy:D
DISCLAIMER: Really now. Do you believe, after all these chapters, that I now own Naruto? No. Sorry.
WARNINGS: Eh, some angst. What else?
Anything in bold is important or with emphasis.
This is what memories look like.
This is what Kimi's thoughts look like.
'This is what song lyrics look like.'
'I'll be okay-
Is that what
you want me
I feel eyes on me as I exit Kimi's hospital room. I needed to go home and get to sleep so I could help Sasuke train tomorrow. Kimi had been out for two days straight after the exams, so I had spent all the time I could at her bedside. I knew Sasuke was getting antsy about training, so I needed to go ahead and start with him. I also needed to figure out what to do with Kimi. Who would train her? I had a few ideas, but they weren't very solid. I wanted to train her myself, but I was ordered to focus upon Sasuke and send my other genin to a different sensei. So I was.
"Excuse me, sir, but visiting-" I whirl around to face the person speaking, and my heart aches in my chest when I see who it is. "Oh," she says.
"Don't worry, I'm leaving. Really," I promise, barely maintaining my already shaky composure. She looks so much more grown up. Her brown hair brushes mere inches past her shoulders. She's taller, her figure more womanly. She wore more normal clothing, though she still clearly worked at the hospital. She had clothes on similar to the ones she used to wear, back before we stopped working together.
"K-Kakashi?" she asks, seeming bewildered. Her brown eyes are wide with surprise.
I nod, affirming her fears. "Hai," I murmur, glancing down to my feet. There's a moment of silence, and I feel my shoulders slacken with disappointment at each second that passes. It was too much to expect her to forgive me, I know, but it still hurt. Without another word, I turn around, heading back towards the hospital exit. I really needed to go.
Three days later, after the broken bones were healed and my wounds closed, I was released from the hospital. Kakashi-sensei had been there the same day, which is when he told me that he wouldn't be able to train me or anything. He told me he was making arrangements to find someone else to train me, but I wasn't sure if I believed him or not.
A few days after my discharge, with no word from Kakashi-sensei, I decide to head to the clan grounds and look around like my brother suggested. I had already trained for the first half of the day, and the dull ache of my wounds was steadily increasing and becoming much more acute. So I went back to my apartment to shower, change into a fresh set of clothes (seeing as my current pair was covered in mud, sweat and a bit of blood that leaked through a wound that re-opened) and eat lunch.
By the time I was finished with all of that, it was nearing two o'clock. I slip out of my apartment after sliding my sandals on, wearing casual clothes. My casual clothes consisted of a form fitting black tank top, a looser, shoulder length fishnet top over that, my standard pair of gloves, a pair of black shorts and my normal shinobi sandals.
I travel on the rooftops towards my clan grounds. I didn't know what sort of state it would be in. There wouldn't be any of the bodies, I knew that, but would the blood stained carpet still be there? Would the doors have been removed and/or replaced, or would the bloodied doors from before remain? I didn't know, but I would find out soon.
I land on the ground gracefully, right before the wooden gates leading into the clan grounds. The clan grounds were pretty simple, because the clan was never big, not like the Uchihas had been. No, they were much smaller. I walk past each building slowly, soaking in the changes. There were two family run shops in the very front. Beyond them was the courtyard composed of a fountain and the garden. The small but beautiful fountain sat in the middle, surrounded by the garden. The garden was perfectly maintained by my mother and my aunts, up until the massacre. It was colorful, gorgeous, the flowers only interrupted by the polished stone path that lead to the center, the fountain. On the left of the clan grounds were three of the housing buildings for the clan, where a portion of the branch members lived. On the right, another three buildings sat. Two of them were reserved for the branch members, too, and the third served as the clan's meeting place.
And, directly ahead, sat the main house. It was three stories tall, compared to the two floors in the branch houses. The top floor housed the room of my parents, a bathroom, my father's office, and a small, personal library meant only for the use of my mother and father. The second floor was mainly bedrooms, though it had a bathroom, too. Each of us kids got our own rooms, so there was four bedrooms and a single bathroom. The main floor was made up of the kitchen, the living room, the main library (available to any of the clan members who wanted to use it) and the dining room.
In my clan, there was no prejudice between the branches. Everyone was treated the same, no matter where they were from. When I was younger, I remember playing with my cousin from the branch family, Chihiro. She had the prettiest eyes I had ever seen, with the exception of my mother's. She was a few years older than me, nine when I was only seven. She died in the massacre.
The main family's house was my destination first, and if I had any more time I would explore the branch houses too. The main house was my priority for now, though.
The first room I go to is Kazuo's. I don't find much in there, because he took most of his things with him. His sheets are still on his bed, having developed a thin layer of dust. The only thing besides his bed and desk that are in there is a few kunai and a cardboard box. I use the cardboard box to assist me in extracting things out of my home. After a second of thought I toss the kunai in the box and move on to the next room.
Masao's room has much more stuff. His things have the same layer of dust over them. The first things my eyes fall upon is his bed. His sheets are in perfect place, like always. A half finished mission scroll sits open on his desk. And his flak jacket, the one he always wore, was laying upon his bed. I put the box I was carrying down and kneel in front of his bed, smoothing my hands over the familiar fabric. I press my nose to it. It smells just like him- cinnamon. I pull away from it when I feel tears begin to prick at the corners of my eyes.
Without another glance at it I place it in the box, standing to move on and continue the search. Searching through his closet, I find a box full of weapons. Kunai, shuriken, senbon, summoning scrolls and others fill the box. I sort carefully through it all, and make the command decision to just take that box too, taking the kunai I got from Kazuo's room and toss them in the weapons box. Then I drag both out of the room and leave them in the hallway. I already knew what I wanted to get from my own room.
A brief trip to my room, resulting in the gathering of several pairs of clothes, my extra weapons, supplies and other little things, and then I'm heading up the stairs to the rooms of my parents. I didn't exactly want anything particularly, just a memento or something to remind me of them. When I step inside, the tears spring back up into my eyes. On my mother's bed laid a pair of her clothes. She was probably about to go shopping or something. I step forward to examine them. Her skirt, her jonin vest, her mesh shirt and black undershirt. And one key item, the thing I knew would give me a constant reminder. I pick it up from the bed, ignoring the dust clinging to it.
Her red sash. It was silk, the color of blood. She wore it all the time, knotted around her waist and brushing across her legs with the sway of her walk. My father gave it to her for one of their anniversaries, back in the very beginning of their marriage. She loved it, and wore it all the time. Even with its age, the color hadn't faded. Yes, I was definitely taking it with me.
A sweep of the room reveals even more weapons, clothes, personal mementos of my parents. Another item stands out, a picture sitting on my father's bedside table. It's a family picture, one of the entire family. Every single year, on the same exact day, we had a photo taken of the entire clan. March 20th, a week after my birthday. Two weeks from now. I can't take much more in searching; too many memories were building up. I could already feel the tears ready to fall. I promise myself- just one more room. The library of my parents.
The library wields several scrolls, some containing jutsus and some summoning different things. Upon seeing the sacred clan scroll, containing some of our best jutsus, I go to that immediately and unravel it. It wouldn't have the ones I needed most- those regarding memories- but it likely had some ninjutsu that would be useful. I put it into the steadily filling box and grab a few other random scrolls, rushing through it and not even looking at what they contained.
I stack the box of random items on top of the weapons box and take to the roof tops, making my way back to my apartment. I land carefully on the concrete railing of the walkway in front of my door. I set the boxes on the ground and jump down, landing carefully on my feet and ignoring the little jolt I felt from my landing. I unlock my apartment and nudge the door open with my foot, pulling in the two boxes behind me. I lock the door and place the key on my dresser.
I collapse onto my bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was 4:30 in the afternoon, and I could already feel the fatigue settling over me. I had trained a lot, practicing first my aim with kunai, shuriken and senbon and then moving on to practicing my taijutsu on one of the training dummies. And then I tried my hand at the jutsu Kakashi-sensei tried to teach me. My hand crackled and glowed with lightning, almost half of the power of Kakashi-sensei's Raikiri, but then the effects dissipated. Much to my disappointment, I was too drained of chakra to do any more of it.
I would keep trying and trying until I got it down. I didn't care how long it took, I would push myself until I could form a full, complete, powerful Raikiri and had enough chakra to do at least two. My only hope was that I would be able to do it soon.
Sorry about the horrible ending and how long it took me to get this chapter up. Like I said at the top, I have been experiencing writer's block. Sorry again): Please review, kiddies!
Chester-Grey: Yeah, it was kinda weird for me to write it like that. I'm glad you liked it:D lol, I'm not surprised that no one has really figured out who the last memory was from. Thanks for reviewing!
bored411: It was supposed to be confusing, lol:P thanks for reviewing consistently! And Yellowcard is my favorite band ever~ (I'm sure I mentioned that somewhere in an author's note). I pretty much idolize them.
E: Will do(: thanks for reviewing!