The Dragon Queen // (Under Revision)

Broken Vessel

The night seemed to last forever. It was like ages were passing in the few hours left of the evening. For the longest time, Tsuyoi just sat and stared at her reflection. She took in her hair and eyes. She wondered if she was pretty. She made her pointy canines sharpen into fangs, and then put them back to normal, and wondered if she was weird.

Life is like a long, darkened tunnel.

It had been a long time since she'd cried. And now she had, in front of a complete stranger. But a complete stranger that wasn't really one at the same time. She cried more times since the outsiders arrived then she had in her entire life.

Of course, she wouldn't remember if she had or not.

But she recalled the way tears felt when they streamed down her face, strangely good and somewhat comforting, and wondered if she was weak.

She felt like she had resolved herself earlier, thought she'd pushed past this. Now the pain was creeping back in.

She buried her hands in her hair, bending over on her knees. "Father...I'm sorry. I've failed you in every way. I'm weak. I let your legacy down." She stared down at the swords in her lap, at her reflection in it, and wondered if she had made the wrong decision. If she was better off dead. "But I have to be strong. That's why you named me the way you did, right?"

She tried desperately not to wail, but her voice rose in spite of her determination. "Father...Mother...why can't I just get to see you?! Why can't I remember your faces?!"

Then she stared at the sword for a moment longer, and something clicked.

One of these swords was your mother's. The other is mine. They were my father's wedding gift to us.

Daddy has a daddy? A little voice piped up. Daddy's too old to have a daddy! Her voice.

He is your grandpa, Tsuisogiru.

His voice. Her father's voice.

When your mother died, I brought both of these home, instead of putting it in her grave. Neither of us knew how to fight effectively with two swords, but I want you to learn.

That way, whenever you fight, your mother and I will both be with you.

His voice faded. Tsuyoi desperately thrust her hand out, grabbing for a kite string, but her fist closed around empty air.

She let her hand drop.

She couldn't control herself.

Come back! Come back, Daddy!

She stared quaking with sobs, but these were gentle and silent, unlike her choking wails from before. These sobs came from the inside, from a broken vessel.

Her heart was broken, as it had been ever since the day her father came home from the war without her mother. She had tried fixing it on her own, by picking up a tekkan and learning to fight with Takumi. Then her father died and left her to the Mothers. There, at the Home with the other orphans, she'd met Hiromu and all her friends, and her heart had begun to heal itself. Until Hayate descended upon Liodito and Chose her to join a legacy she wasn't sure she'd believed in, delivering her into the hands of the demon that was Chizu. Now here she was, clinging to a stranger that was just like her, who understood her sorrow. Who had gone through fire and come out stronger than iron.

"I want to be like Naruto, Father," she said aloud, through her tears. "Is that wrong? I trust him because he's just like me. He's strong, he's compassionate, he's fearless. Actually," she croaked, her voice breaking. "If I remember you correctly...He's just like you."

When the sobs subsided, golden light had begun to drift through the windows at last. She stood from the bed, gazing at herself in the mirror again. Her canines were sharp, and her green dairokkan markings stood out against her brown skin. Her spiky green hair cascaded down her back. Her eyes shone. But...

Who is this person? What is her name?

"I'm Tsuyoi Arakawa, the girl who will slay the Dragon King," she said meekly. She pressed her hand against the mirror, concealing half of her face. "Right?"

*********

"Tsuyoi? Your breakfast is ready," Tomoe's voice came through the door a few hours later. "Why haven't you come downstairs?"

"I'm coming," Tsuyoi called back. She tightened the strap on her katanas' sheath across her back and stood. Her wild hair was pulled back in a ponytail and it swung against her shoulder as she strode quickly towards the door and slid it open. Tomoe stood on the other side, looking nervous.

"Tsuyoi...?" Tomoe took in her attire--a simple black bodysuit, lightweight and durable, that went up to her neck and down to her ankles, leaving her shoulders bare. Bandages were wrapped around her arms, down to her wrists, to cover her tattoos. She wore light shoes. Tomoe took one look at her clothes and the weapons strapped to her back, and her eyes went wide. "What are you planning on doing today, Tsuyoi?"

Tsuyoi crossed her arms, sneering playfully. "Training. Not slacking off and kicking it back with some shinobi." Then she froze. She was looking down at her patron. When did I get taller than her? "Anyway, I-I'm not going to eat today. And could you tell them to meet me in the southern training field at noon?"

Tsuyoi brushed past Tomoe and headed briskly down the hall as she spoke.

"Tsuyoi."

Something about her tone made Tsuyoi pause. "Yes?"

"Chizu is up and about again."

Tsuyoi's shoulders went rigid. There was a pregnant pause.

"Thanks for telling me."