Desert Flower

Kami-sama....

[Sayuri's theme: The Red by Chevelle]

  A newborn child cries out in the night, swaddled in a blanket as it laid in a woven basket. Angry tears were streaming hotly down the infant's cheeks as it screamed without rest into the warm summer air. Gnarled trees with visible, twisted roots hung over the baby while the leaves rustled from the gentle wind.

  "Oh, hush now." A calm voice said as a cloaked figure knelt down and cradled the infant in their arms. "The pain will cease soon enough, child, so hush." The figure gently pulls the blanket down far enough to see the tiny hands balled into fists under the baby's chin.

  The infant ignored the monotone words and continued to cry and scream to the Heavens with fury rather than pain. Its face had already turned completely red, contrasting with the faint freckles spotting the child's cheeks, and the cloaked person sighed while tapping the baby's chin.

  "Come now, quiet your insistent crying. How am I to sneak in if you're screaming? You will alert the shinobi- Do you really want that?" But it seemed no words would console the tiny babe in their arms. "How about this," They sighed once more while looking around, checking the surrounding woods to see if it was still safe. "I'll show you the pretty red you like so much. Will that quiet you?" The infant continued to cry. "Aka." The cloaked figure whispered to the baby. "Pretty aka...."

  And the baby slowly ceased its screaming as the person cooed the word.

  "You truly are a devil's child." They said while laying the baby back into the basket. It had only been a week and a half since the child had been born, but it had come under the cloaked figure's care only an hour after birth. Since then, they had learned many things about the baby and how the mark on its lower back played a role in the infant's odd behavior.

  Picking up the basket with the now silent baby that was calmly breathing, the cloaked figure glanced at the growing moon. A flash of silver on their forehead revealed them to be a shinobi of the Hidden Leaf, but they had traveled far away for the child they carried. The infant itself was of the Leaf as well, but the thing inside of it was from the Land of Snow.

  As the Leaf ninja silently walked with the basket in their arms, their eyes darted through the shadows, seeking out a way to appease the child with the 'pretty aka'. Nearing Konoha, there should be a path that would converge with another shinobi on the way in.

  Luckily, near the village, the cloaked figure managed to find a lone shinobi resting in a tree. It looked to be a young chunin, but with the war going on not too far away, no one would notice when this ninja had perished. Placing the basket and child onto the ground, the infant opened its bleary eyes which were a shocking gold. The figure, still not used to the feral eyes watching with anticipation from the babe, shuddered slightly. Being a shinobi for numerous years, they had seen many things, but looking into the fierce, golden eyes of this child was like looking into the eyes of Death itself.

  "Pretty red." The cloaked shinobi whispered low before holding their finger to their lips to keep the child quiet. Turning away, they eyed the young chunin before attacking. It didn't take much to subdue the lower-ranked ninja, but after the small scuffle had ended, the cloaked figure had the chunin on their knees in front of the basket. Their arms hung limply at their sides- paralyzed or broken, there wasn't a way to be sure in that moment- and the cloaked shinobi held them upright by holding a tight fist against their scalp. Dark brown hair was tangled in the superior's fingers as a kunai knife was produced in their other hand.

  "A baby?" The weaker ninja had managed to say with confusion after coughing. The cloaked shinobi didn't reply as they leaned the chunin towards the basket. The infant babbled while looking into the eyes of the boy on his knees. When the kunai was placed upon the chunin's throat, his eyes widened as he tried to scream, but it was cut short as he gargled and was drowning in his own blood as it spewed forth and gushed down his throat in thick streams. The blood soaked his clothes and skin in a deep red.