Book One- Chiisai is a simple librarian who spends her days trying to move on from her fickle past and its haunting side effects. Her life, however, quickly spirals after she's attacked in an alley. She's saved by the elite ninja known as Hatake Kak...
Chiisai stared down at the restraints on her wrists.
She had been strapped to a hospital bed, in an unfamiliar room, and the lights were way too bright.
Pain split in the back of her head, and she winced. A nurse had stopped in an hour ago with breakfast and had left it by her bedside. Chiisai had feigned being asleep. What she needed was answers, but she was too afraid to ask them.
All she knew was that if the Hokage wasn't here, and if she wasn't under watch, then they didn't know about her abilities. There must have been some sort of injury done to her head, but what had happened?
There had been a book on the side table, "Dreaming of Love," and memories had come back of rain, and darkness, and the smell of books and bile and mud. Someone had been with her at a bookstore, she had thought, but it hurt to remember.
The doorknob turned, and Chiisai's eyes shot up at the familiar faces. How the hell had her coworkers found out?
"You really need to stop taking those alley shortcuts," Koshuu said as he walked in. His eyebrows were furrowed, his posture stiff- clearly, he wasn't happy about the news. Or perhaps it was the fact that he was soaked through. He had obviously given his umbrella to Mizuki, who was dry as a bone.
Dreams of fighting ninja, of teeth falling out, of women's breasts- they battered against her senses as she looked at her coworker. She couldn't tell what was worse- the ninjas' nightmares from the third war, or teenage dreams.
The fun part about seeing dreams- she never knew which ones she'd see when making eye contact. The more someone had had a specific dream, or nightmare, the more likely it was to turn up.
Which made it all the more difficult when it came to socializing. The dreams could range from romance, to horror, to random, non-sensical images. It made it difficult to maintain any sort of conversation.
In Koshuu's hands were balloons and a plastic tub dripping water. Mizuki followed behind, holding a gift.
Maybe...could this be a dream?
Koshuu paused as he took in the sight of her bandaged face. He wore his favorite grey pullover today. His dark spiky bangs stuck to his forehead and covered part of his eyes. He wasn't bad looking, that was for sure, and she had worked with him for the past three years. But the man was too much sunshine for her, and he constantly badgered her about being a hermit.
"Oh, dear, you look horrible!" Mizuki said. She sat the gift on the nightstand and bent down towards Chiisai. "How are you feeling?"
"Can you sit up?" Koshuu asked.
"Um," she said, pulling at her wrists. Her eyes darted to the party stuff, and she frowned. "How did you all know I was here? What day is it?"
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Her throat was dry, and her breath smelled of death, and gods, what she wouldn't give to be in her own bed right now with Tori curled at her feet.
Koshuu gestured to Mizuki to sit in the chair. He set the tub down, brushed his hair back, and droplets of water fell as he crossed his arms. "It's Sunday. And Kakashi told me, which sounds strange saying that out loud. I never thought I'd have a conversation with such a- wait." He glanced down at her restraints. "Why are you tied to the bed?"
