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The graves of significance.
It was a usual day for Itachi to roam free in the village, visiting the places with the remnants of the past. None of the children of his age would as be interested and tactful such as him.
The autumn season was never bleak. The breath of the sun harmonized with the surrounding, hugging the plains and trees fairly. The sky was high, reaching all the way to his path of discovery.
Itachi never stopped training or learning ever since the day his father brought him in the aftermath of the battlefield. On that day, he promised himself that he had to be strong. And one way of getting strong was to know the roots where the fruits came from.
It was unconventional for a kid to carry the burden of this war. Each night, he would revisit the faces of the corpses twisted in agony. It was like he was touching his own wounds. He wanted to forget, but the palms of his hands would bleed if he pulled the blades out.
He was lost in the maze of his own mind and dedicated to finding the solution on how he would learn to stop himself from being responsible.
He had been wandering around until his feet stumbled upon a graveyard filled with the red blooms. These red blooms were the spider lilies. They scattered enormously within the graveyard's premises. It was a land of the dead, yet the crimson buds provided a gentle fragrance. Its wispy, curled petals added an eye-catching texture and exotic appeal to a landscape.
And who would have thought that a graveyard existed here, only about a mile away from the center of the Konohagakure?
He walked further, the flowers were blossoming as it surrounded every tombstone possible. It was a very dubious image, yet for a young man's mind, it was a relevance.
And with his wondering, he never expected that he ran into someone.
It wasn't a person new to him.
In this place that had a deep, melancholic atmosphere, there was a young woman alone in this cemetery.
She was seated under the shade of a tree, the red flowers were so attracted to her. The sun must be delighted with her existence, as well, and decided to shower her with a radiating vibrance. As the rays blushed her skin, it matched her burning red hair, making her look as if her whole form was on fire.
And the delicate, sad, and vague rustling of each red bulbs, it thrilled him—filled him with a calmness he always longed to feel.
His soul mustered confidence, hesitating then no longer. Quietly and stealthily, he moved his feet one way to another.
For a rare and lucid little miss whom the sun goddess named Akane Namikaze.
