The Dragon Queen // (Under Revision)

Porkbelly

Tsuyoi awoke early the next morning, limbs still dully aching. She began with her regular routine, one she had hand-written and pinned to the wall with an old kunai. She bathed and dressed, rough-housed her long curls into a bun, and went to train with her Illan. As she went through her paces, her mind wandered to the shinobi, wondering how Naruto's wound was doing, if they were settled, and if Chizu had come to harass them yet. She went in to the dining hall for breakfast, and Tomoe was waiting for her.

"Good morning, Tsuyoi." Tomoe stood beside a chair with the food prepared on the table before it. Tsuyoi bowed her head as she approached, and sat down before the spread of rice and braised porkbelly meat, side dishes. Tsuyoi's eyes widened with glee---she loved porkbelly. It was her favorite after all. One of the few things she had never forgotten.

"I knew you'd like it," Tomoe beamed, stepping over to the opposite side of the table to face Tsuyoi. "I thought you could use something familiar, with all the commotion yesterday."

Tsuyoi was wary. Was the porkbelly meant to be a distraction? It was unsual for Tomoe to speak this much at once, Chizu was very tight on daily interaction. And somehow, without every being seen on the grounds of the monastery, she always knew when someone had done something wrong. "Thank you, Tomoe," Tsuyoi said, bowing her head again. She began to dig in, savoring the well-cooked meat, but after a few minutes, her suspicion was confirmed. Tomoe watched her eat, eyes and lips folded in soft smile. She never stayed after serving meals.

After a moment, she spoke. "Did you talk to them?"

Tsuyoi banged her closed fist on the table, rattling the bowls. She glared up at Tomoe. "Why am I not allowed to talk with anyone? Was that rule intended to drive the Queen crazy intentionally?"

Tomoe winced. "You know why, Tsuyoi."

Tsuyoi angrily stuffed the food in her mouth, face flushing. Had Tomoe only come to remind her of the foolish rules? Now, when her brain had been spinning all morning, eagerly imagining talking with them, learning about where they came from, the symbols on their headbands, the whisker-like marks on the boy Naruto's cheeks. She had been daydreaming of enjoying conversation. Her anger started to give way into sadness. What a pitiful reality. She was about to die in a month's time, and no one but the patrons would even remember the sound of her voice.

"I'm no Queen. I'm an empty shell." Tsuyoi looked down at the half-eaten breakfast, no longer hungry. "I'm certainly not a person, as I am so deprived of contact with other people. I'm not even regarded enough to be granted that. Just a vessel, right?"

Tsuyoi looked up into Tomoe's eyes, searching them for feeling, for sentiment. She found some, flitting in the corners of her fern green eyes, but she could spot the wall, the guarded nature of the patrons, the cool exterior she was raised by. So different from the crystal pools of Naruto's, the animation and symphony of the rest of the shinobis.

"What did I do to deserve living and dying like this?"

Tomoe gasped, the exterior crumpling a bit. Tsuyoi thought she saw a glimmer of tears pool in her eyes. "Tsuyoi," she said breathlessly. "Fukuo and I did not know fully we were getting into when we accepted these jobs. We were struggling, the war in our homeland took our brother and father away, and left us caring for our sick mother. When she passed, we could not bear to stay where everyone else had left us behind. And so we left." As she spoke, she twirled her hair among her fingers anxiously, eyes darting back and forth between Tsuyoi's. Tsuyoi had lost a parent to the war, and the other due to an injury sustained from it, so she turned down the glare and listened intently. She could not remember if Tomoe had told her this before. "When we arrived, we weren't prepared for the job, nor did we understand. We did not know the Queen dies at the end of her term, they kept that from us. We almost left, but we felt as if we could better serve making the lives of the next one as bright and cheery as possible. Everything changed with Hay-"

Tsyoi's eyes widened, and Tomoe's followed. A tense silence filled the air between them.

"Tsuyoi," Tomoe broke the silence, whispering urgently. "Something is happening here, it feels as if something is changing, something important. I don't know what it means, these shinobi arriving here, but it appears that you are going to play an important part in it. You must be ready."

Tsuyoi leaned back in her chair, food forgotten. She wrestled with what her patron was telling her, it shocked her deeply. What does Hayate have to do with this? What does she feel is changing so much? The thoughts dove deeper. What does this mean for me then? Is there hope?

Tomoe crossed the distance between them quickly, hands outstretched. She placed them on Tsuyoi's cheeks before she could even react. Her fingers were tough and warm, and her palms smooth, a former seamstress's hands. She gently titled Tsuyoi's head upward, guiding her by her cheeks. Tomoe bore her eyes into her's, brimming with emotion and softspoken passion. Hot tears sprang from Tsuyoi's eyes.

"I know you can't remember things sometimes. I know it makes you feel shattered inside, like a broken mirror, and I can't imagine how it feels to think that you're running out of time to put the pieces together. I'm sorry," Tomoe said gently, cradling Tsuyoi's face. "I'm sorry for the role I've played. I just wanted to stay beside you. I didn't want to leave you behind. Or Hayate." She gave a saccharine smile. "I know why you forget things, and that you'll probably forget this. That's okay."

Tsuyoi's lip started trembling, tears spilling over her cheeks, running through Tomoe's fingers. "Don't cry, lovely," Tomoe said softly. "We love you, and if you don't remember anything else I've said, try to remember this; I believe in you. I always have. That's why I stayed."

Tsuyoi buried her face in Tomoe's hands, holding in sobs. Tomoe gently touched her forehead to Tsuyoi's, then pulled away and stepped back. Tsuyoi rubbed her eyes profusely, trying to regain control of herself. Tomoe's little laugh tinkled like a clear bell. Tsuyoi looked up at her, brows furrowing.

"You always were a big baby, you know that?" Tomoe laughed.

"Please, Tomoe!" Tsuyoi whined, embarrassed. Her mind was spinning itself dizzy by these emotions flooding her now. As far as she knew, this conversation had never happened before, but she didn't trust her memories. For all she knew, this could have been the 200th time. How could I not remember this, feeling like this? Like she's saved all of her attention for me. It was absolutely shocking hear those words.

Before she could gather another thought, Tomoe spun away. Moving towards the door, she turned to flash a grin over her shoulder. "And Chizu will be very busy preparing for what's coming, and she's expects you to break the rule anyway, but we can stand guard in case she gets too close."

"Thank you Tomoe," Tsuyoi cried after her. "But what if I---"

"Forget away, my dear," Tomoe waved a hand over her shoulder, not breaking stride. "Someone of us wish we could have that ability. You'll face it one of these days. We all do."

Tomoe vanished into the hallway, leaving Tsuyoi to think on what she'd said. Tsuyoi took another bite of her porkbelly, thinking deeply.