A Glass Of Crimson Souls

12

A Glass of Crimson Souls: Part II

I don't think there's anything more terrible than being alone in the world. When you're alone, you lose everything—you may have your own life, and people may tell you that it's possible to start over—but it's not. It's not possible. You sit there, looking at your reflection in the mirror, and you don't see anything. You are a husk, a faded imprint in someone's imagination. In your own imagination.

When you're alone, you've lost all purpose, all reason worth living…because what it means to be truly, truly alone is to have no attachment to anyone, to anything, no love, no hate, no passion. Passion is what drives life—no matter if it is an ardent love or a hateful ambition; as long as it consumes you, as long as it drives you…then you live.

I sit here, now, alone. In my hands are a pen and this old, old journal, this journal that has been marked and torn, this journal that has been wept and bled over. I sit here, feeling more alone than I have ever felt in my entire life, and sadly, this journal seems less alone than I am. It lives in a way that I do not.

Just because I breathe doesn't mean I live. I have never felt the desire to die so badly. I read this journal over and over again, trying to pry from it some meaning, some reason, some will and some life, but all I get is our mixed souls in this vessel, and all it is is retrospect, our deepest thoughts and deepest desires and in the end, he could live for none of them, he could not live for himself, and he could not live for me.

And I know I will never forgive him for it.

Chapter 12: What Pinwheels Weave

"It's her, Kakashi."

Kakashi frowned, dragging his gaze from the woman who was currently being held in the interrogation room. Ibiki looked at him with conviction.

"How can you be so sure?" said Kakashi dubiously.

Ibiki shook his head. "Inoichi just scanned through her memories—you saw them too. You were in them—can't you say that those are right?"

"But in the event that she's an imposter," said Kakashi coldly, "those memories could've been replicated—"

"Kakashi, I know that it's natural to be distrustful—I am not saying that we trust her. I do not know her motives, and there are areas of her memory that are hazy and suspicious. I am merely stating the facts: this is, without a doubt, the real Chiaki Miho."

Kakashi did not say anything, instead studying the woman who could not see him through the tinted glass panes.

"She looks…doesn't look the same," he said doubtfully.

"It's been five years, Kakashi. Only you don't age."

Kakashi chuckled wryly. "What does the Hokage say?"

"He seems interested in this woman's resurfacing—he even scanned her memories with Inoichi. I believe that he wants you to address her next…try and find a motive."

"I see…I'll go ahead."

Kakashi entered the interrogation room and sat down across from the woman who claimed to be his protégé. He made no movement to speak; instead, he watched her intently as she likewise did not respond; her slate gray eyes were definitely like the ones he remembered, but if this was truly Miho, then Asuma had not done her justice by calling her "average" so long ago. Five years had lengthened her face and changed her looks; she had grown.

But the expression of intense dislike that she wore was a familiar one; she was scowling naturally, and her fingers tapped the table's surface impatiently.