Shiori woke up and stared blankly at the dull, white ceiling above her. She blinked before the memories of the event came to her, her green eyes brimmed with unshed tears and mouth snapped shut before a scream could escape. The young girl sat up slowly and clenched her fist, droplets of tears began staining the pearly white sheet that covered her body. "Nanashi..."
When Katawara saw the course of the exam, he wanted nothing but to snatch her away and back to a safe haven. He eyed the genins that stood on the ground, facing each other, the two unknown ones were eying Shiori as if she was a meal while Nanashi had his head down.
Then the battle begin, a part of him was proud of his student, not only did she utilize many things, she did him proud with how she managed to improvise on the basic explosive seals.
And then it was the final battle, friend against friend.
Katawara had grimaced, his student was only 10 and she had to face the situation where her enemy was a close friend. It didn't help that Nanashi was Shiori's only close friend of her age.
Then the Kirigakure no Jutsu was used and Katawara panicked. He immediately broadened his senses, trying to feel. Then he heard a shout, without a second thought, he made his way down and moved through the mist.
The sight that greeted him broke his heart.
Shiori was sobbing her heart out, sprawled all over her friends stabbed chest, hands glowing green on and off. Katawara felt as if he wanted to die, let him take her pain, let her be pain free— But, alas, that was impossible. The life of a Shinobi just wouldn't allow that luxury.
He enveloped her thrashing form in his arms, "Its okay, come—" she probably didn't hear him, or was aware er hands kept reaching out to the corpse that laid before them. Katawara shushined the both of them away from the tragic scene and not for the first time, Katawara Kazuya cursed the life of Shinobi.
After all, Geniuses are not born soldiers, like all others, they are still human.
"Shiori! Stop!" Shiori felt warm, strong arms wrapping themselves around her, her sobs slowing down into choked sobs and eyes dry. Her shaky hands reached around to grasp the rough fabric, her eyes squeezed shut and aware of tears that still manage to leak out.
A part of her knew, logically speaking, her understood the significance of death. She understood that in a biological way of speaking, Nanashi have already achieved cessation of all biological functions that sustain his characteristics of a living organism. But it didn't make it hurt less, it didn't make it any less of her fault. He was supposed to fight, win the Mizukage chair, protect his village— but he gave it away to save someone like her.
Shiori never met someone so stupid, noble— so self sacrificing in her life.
"Sensei," Shiori whispered, voice hoarse from the sobs and lack of use previously. "Does it ever get better?"
"Never," her teacher says, "Being a Shinobi is more than killing or protection, it's to carry out the will of those who have fallen and honor them by achieving what they fight for."
Her teacher pulled back a little, "Shiori?"
She remained quiet, she didn't feel like talking. Shiori felt her teacher shift before her face was tilted upwards to face his comforting ones. He traced his thumb on her eye lids, "Eat something, alright, Shiori?"
Shiori felt silent once more before muttering, "I hate myself, sensei."
"Why?"
"I'm such a horrible person, what kind of genius am I if I allow my only friend to die for me, what kind of genius exhausts themselves in a fight to death, what kind of genius am I even I need someone protecting me!?" Shiori cried out, her face settled into an expression of utter helplessness.
Katawara narrowed his eyes, "Being a Genius doesn't men's you're God, it doesn't mean you're perfect, it means your more precocious than others of your age, it mean your mindset is different, it doesn't mean you have to always lead, it doesn't mean you're not human!"
By the end of his rant, his words were being yelled and the tears on his student dried up, her green eyes wide, staring at him in awe and shock.
"I'm sorry if we made you think that way," Katawara lowered his voice, "No one expects you to be perfect, Shiori, you don't have to be perfect. Look at the Naras, they're all geniuses but very unmotivated. What do you think happened to those civilian Naras if they don't make use of their intelligence? They become like any other person. We're all human, we bleed the same colour of blood, we breathe the same air and we live in the same world."
Shiori glomped her teacher and buried her nose into his shirt.
Shiori fiddled the head band she had on her, well, forehead. Her long pink hair swept against the familiar wind and her steps were light. She felt a rough, callused hand on top of her head and tilted her head up to see the grinning feature of the man who basically raised her— Katawara Kazuya.
Shiori slipped an easy smile onto her face before facing the gates before her. She glanced at her teacher again, seeing his nod, she immediately shushined away from her position to the doorstep of a house she knew all too well those years ago.
Shiori knocked on the door and twisted the knob open. A familiar soft voice called out from within, "Ah, Sakura, you forgot your keys agai.....n.... S-shiori-chan?"
The plate from the owner's hand fell and before the plate hit the ground, Shiori . With the plate stretched out, she greeted with a smile.
"Tadaima, okaa-san."
Preview
"Domo, Shiori Haruno. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"Eh? She's related to Sakura-chan?"
"She's my aneki, you baka! Of course she's related to me."
A/N: So..... Next chapter, canon starts. Before I continue, please take note not everything would follow canon, people who die might live and those who lived might die, hey, who knows?
